This child is special. I know you're thinking, every child is special. No no no no. This child is the kind of special that makes you sure she is protected under some endangered species act... the kind where you will get fined $10,000 if you disturb her habitat. She does things that make you sure she's been here before and wrote the rules to her own game.
She stockpiles notes from her teacher. The little "caught being good notes" that they hand out in kindergarten are overflowing from one pocket of her backpack. Some are months old; but as soon as she gets in trouble at home, she whips one out like it's brand new. "See, mama, I did good in school today!"
Every day while we walk around to get Eva, I ask her if anything exciting happened that day. One day last week when I had come in to volunteer in the classroom, her answer was "You were the most exciting part of my day!" aaaaaawwwwwww Half a second later...before I had even finished forming the heartwarmed smile she inspired...as I was mentally reciting the words for my Mama of the Year acceptance speech... "Now who's your goodest child?". Little manipulator.
Maya goes to the nurses's office at school three to four times a day. She can't breathe. She tripped as she was walking and did a complete somersault and hit the top of her head. She can't find her class. etc. etc. etc. When I ask the nurse why she keeps letting Maya get away with this, her answer? "She's just so cute!" That's how she gets away with this stuff.
I ask each of the girls every afternoon what the best part of their day was. One day, Maya's answer was "All the boys chasing me." "Excuse me??!!" Her explanation was "Yes mama, because I was so fast they couldn't catch me."
On Tuesday, she walked out of school looked right at me and didn't recognize me. When she finally noticed me, she yelled in front of everyone: "Mama, you can't dress nice! I don't see you unless you're wearing messy clothes."
On Wednesday, she walked directly into her classroom and before I had even left the building began telling her teacher that I didn't feed her breakfast. She repeated this same story to at least two other adults before the office staff called me (presumably as a courtesy before they called CPS). "No, Maya had eggs, sausage, toast, fresh fruit, orange juice, and a cinnamon roll less than an hour ago." So, they put my little traitor on the phone. Why did she tell people this? She says she doesn't know, I say she thought someone would give her a pudding cup.
Yes, Miss Maya is special. She's exasperatingly special. She's knock your head on the wall special. She's a roller coaster ride of special.
And she's all mine, which makes me kind of special too.