Marley's Redemption Song.

It's those princesses again.  My friend Meghan got Marley a belated birthday and early Easter gift a couple of weeks ago: a Disney Princesses tent, part of a deluxe camping set including a backpack, sleeping bag, canteen, and compass (which real princesses don't need, because they can always ask woodland friends for directions).  Marley was beside herself; we set it up immediately, and she was in and out of that thing along with a crowd of imaginary friends for the rest of the afternoon.  When we got home, I set it up in her room, where it's been ever since.  Tonight before I tucked Marley in, I did a clean sweep of it and pulled out: a substantial pile of books, her doctor kit, four dolls and one bed from her dollhouse, dirty pants and underwear, and a new pair of shorts.  Here's what I love about the tent: it's from Meghan, who knows from camping; the bottom appears to be water-resistant and therefore the thing might actually work outdoors; and most of all, the ludicrousness of several pale-pink-skinned princesses, all come-hither stares in their corseted ball gowns, adorning a deep-pink camping apparatus that pretty much symbolizes roughing it.  

Those girls.  Sheesh.  But Marley loves them, and I love her, and everything in moderation.  For now, at least, Marley's quit wearing nighties and pajamas at all hours.  After she spent several lacrosse practices with her candy heart nightgown trailing out from under the jumper she calls her "skippy" dress, Todd and I told her we'd rather she leave bedtime clothes at home.  I don't think that's too much to ask.  And yet, Marley still believes that princesses only wear dresses, so that's her ensemble of choice.  A few months ago, my sister Danielle, an early education expert, tried talking to her about all the different job titles a girl could have other than Princess. 

Danielle: "Marley, can a girl be a fire fighter?"

Marley (incredulous): "Nooooo!"

Me: (about to impale myself in my breaking heart) 

But just yesterday, my Beanie redeemed herself.  In between bouts of galloping around and screaming with her cousin Emma Loo-Hoo, Marley saw highlights of the Boston Marathon on television.  Danielle pointed out the lead female runners: "Look at those ladies running a race.  They're going so fast."  According to Danielle, Marley replied, fairly enthusiastically, "Yeah.  Girls do sports.  My mommy does lots of sports."

I can practically hear the clouds breaking apart to let the rich, deep chords of the heavens through.  Thank you!  And did you know, my Little Bean, that both field hockey and lacrosse uniforms have skirted bottoms?