Love and Marriage

Last night while putting Georgia to bed, I mentioned to her that we might give the baby a name other than "Lollipop" when it's born.  She looked a little disappointed and asked, "Why?"  Oh, I don't know, I said, we just might want to call it something else like Georgia, or June, except different.  Seeing the tinge of sadness in her eyes, I quickly added, "but you can still call the baby Lollipop if you want."  That seemed to pacify.



She talks about the Eiffel Tower and how we'll all go to Paris when she's twelve, "You, and me, and Daddy, and June, and Lollipop."  I tell her yes, definitely.  She'll never let Joe forget that offhand promise he once made while reading Madeline or Iggy Peck, I can't recall which, but I hope he's saving his pennies for airfare in 2019. 

She's quite enamored of The Paper Bag Princess these days, but I wasn't sure that the message of the book, which pleasantly goes against the grain of the princess stereotype, was direct enough to sink in to her three year old mind, so I spelled it out a bit.  "See, she's clever!  She's tricking the dragon.  The prince is mean, because he's judging her for her looks.  She is smart not to marry him.  You should never marry someone who isn't nice to you and doesn't treat you well.  Daddy and I got married because we love each other."  You could see the little wheels spinning in her head. 


{a.m. snuggles, while Mommy's in the shower.}

I love it that her take-away from this conversation appears to have been:  Only marry nice people.  Later that day, "I can marry you, mommy, because we love each other and you are nice to me."  Two days later, walking down the street to the park, we pass a woman pushing a stroller who says hello as we go by.  "She had a beautiful dress, mommy.  And I can marry her, because she was nice to us." 


{a.m. snuggles part II, while Daddy's in the shower.}

What a valuable life lesson.  And who am I to inform her of the societal impropriety of marrying one's own mother, or entering a union with a stranger of an approximately 37 year age difference?  She'll eventually figure that out on her own, so for now I just relish the innocence. 

(And look forward to Paris with Lollipop and the gang.)