Indianapolis Woman, May 2012 issue, featured an article by Adrian Kendrick entitled “The Mom Diaries,” in which an excerpt of my original essay “Rainbows In Her Head” appeared. You can read the abbreviated version below. Click on this Huffington Post link for the full essay.
By the time my daughter was in kindergarten she had figured out how to draw correct prismatic progressions of color. They showed up on almost every drawing she produced. “Mommy,” Hannah once told me, “I see rainbows in my head.”
My daughter is also a self-dresser. If you’ve seen the Pippi-esque ragamuffin at a playground or the mall, or a slightly disheveled fairy princess at a restaurant, you have not seen an ill-kept child; you have spotted a self-dresser. Other moms have looked at me, puzzled: Why, I just lay their outfits out on the bed and my girls put them on, they have said. Me? I get to fold and refold all the castoffs that didn’t make it to the carefully constructed, “mitch-matched” (as Hannah called it) heap designated as tomorrow’s outfit.
Mitch-matched and Hannah vetted means a different sock on each foot. It means purple-flowered arm-warmers that in a previous life served as knee socks. It means skirts of every color worn over pants of every color; stripes and polkadots with plaids, hoodies over T-shirts over pajama tops. It means fashion equations coordinated per the beautiful logic of a little girl who has not yet been burdened with the filter of fitting in.
Move over, all you It Girls. There lives on the distant outer banks of your prêt-à-porter anchor cities one Lil Miss Hannah who, having mastered refractive bands of light, actually wears them.