Lately, Lucy has had her own ideas about what she wants to do.

This is not terribly shocking, since she is three, and comes from a long line of stubborn do-it-yourselfers. I used to dread group projects in school because, really, who wants to work with someone else? It's more effort to get everyone to do it your way.

However, when you are the one being managed this way, it is hard. Especially when the manager is three and wants to play pretend games for hours at a time. Each pretend game is announced with a double word. As in, "I want to play, "Doctor, Doctor," where you are the patient and I am the doctor." Or, "I want to play, "Family, Family," where you are the mommy and I am the daddy." Or, "I want to play, "Store, Store." or "Restaurant, Restaurant." or "Beach, Beach.""

Enough. Enough.

Of course, perhaps my annoyance partially stems from, ahem, liking to be the one in control myself.

However, yesterday, Lucy wanted to do a craft. Her craft. "Momma, I want to color on paper, and then paint it, and then cut it, and then use glue, and put glitter on it."

I nodded. This sounded very multi-media. I got out the supplies.

What was great (I know, all you unschoolers, you are rolling your eyes) was that she came up with the idea, and she discovered the effects it produced: the wax resist, the layering, the different ways paints soaked into different kinds of paper. I to to discover them with her.

As opposed to me managing the discovery, the process, the magic.

Ah, to be patient enough to allow her space to figure things out on her own.