Ordinary Days: Sela and the art of choosing your path

My 5-year-old daughter Sela recently caught a lizard in our backyard and begged to bring it inside so it could be cozy. She regularly puts together outfits that include princess dresses, beaten-up rain boots and her favorite kitty-ears headband. She’s never been afraid of the dark and says if a bad guy comes, she’ll just “hi-yah” him. She’s been to the hospital several times, including twice for facial injuries because she truly dives headfirst into everything. 

I used to worry about her ability to keep up with other kids in school. When everyone else is sitting still, she’s often balancing on one arm and one big toe, or practicing “hi-yah-ing.” Teachers have told me stories over the years of her veering out of line to follow a butterfly’s path, or losing track of the rest of the class because she spotted a centipede or cicada shell. When I pick her up from school each day, the first thing she does is empty out her pockets and show me all the treasures she picked up during the day. 

It’s easy to see the focus of other kids (within reason — they’re only in kindergarten), the way they follow rules and wear outfits that match and think, “Wow, Sela truly is in another league.” But I’m slowly realizing that is likely one of the truest things I can say about this kid, and that it’s OK. Better than OK. It’s good, because it’s who she is. 

During the Olympics, I heard a clip about American snowboarder Julia Marino and her childhood. She was always trying new things, rarely stopping to see if it was within her ability or even safe. She made her own rules, as far as her parents would allow, and was always pushing the boundaries of what a child could do. Her mom told the interviewer that as a result of this upbringing, their daughter never worried about what the other kids were up to because she was so intent, and usually allowed, to do things her way. 

“When the crowd went this way, Julia went the other way.” 

As I listened to them speak, I thought of Sela and her childlike determination to do things herself, to figure out life at her own speed. My hope for her is that she can hang onto that determination and remain content being her own quirky, energetic self even when others go another way. Maybe not a snowboarder hurtling down the side of a mountain at top-speed, but I can imagine she will latch on to her own talents and skills and take them as far as she can.

It’s tempting to let the shoulds and shouldn’ts rule us as we parent our kids. I frequently have to ask myself if my “No” to Sela is because it’s a bad thing for her or if it’ll just embarrass me. 

As a result, I do let her wear her Moana costume to church, and I don’t worry too much if the temporary tattoos she plastered all over her arms and legs don’t come off for a few days. 

Every child moves through life at his or her own speed, and shame on us if we try to hurry them up, slow them down or change them into someone more socially acceptable. One day, they’ll probably all want to do life exactly as their friends are doing it, but maybe, just maybe, those determined streaks will hold fast and help them go down their own creative path.

You can reach me by email me at Lauren@LaurenKDenton.com, visit my website, LaurenKDenton.com, or find me on Instagram @LaurenKDentonBooks, Twitter @LaurenKDenton, or on Facebook. My debut novel,“The Hideaway,” is available wherever books are sold. “Hurricane Season” coming April 3.