What two wild-haired princesses taught me about parenting

A few days ago on The Dsh With Tsh, I shared a few insights from a recent mother-daughter date when Tate and I saw the movie Brave. From the post:

“It’s silly, I know. The girl prefers giant t-shirts and hole-y jeans over quirky skirts and matching headbands. She has to be reminded constantly to brush her hair (which she’s adamant about keeping long, funnily enough), and her nightly summer bedtime ritual involves scrubbing her blackened feet in the bathtub. She’d spend her afternoons up in a tree over playing with makeup any day.

I’ve got a tomboy.

…I felt my cheeks grow hot in that cooled, darkened theater. That crazy-curly mass of red hair on Merida could have easily been Tate’s blonde mane of tangles. The princesses’ prized bow and arrows are Tate’s chalk drawings all over the sidewalk and the forts built in the living room. And while I watch the movie unfold and feel Tate’s hand squeeze mine during the scary parts, I look over at her with wet eyes. This is my girl. My precious girl, who delights in being herself and no one else.“

Head here to read the entire post and to share your comments. Do you have a tomboy, too?