My daughter loves Beyoncé. She loves her music. She loves to watch her dance. She loves to sing her songs. Oh yeah, my
toddler loves her some Bey. As I
watched her sing and dance and whip her hair back and forth during one of her daily Beyoncé dance seshes, it dawned on me that’s she’s not
all that unlike the Queen Bey. Yes, my daughter, and really most toddlers, have a lot in common
with the fabulous Queen of Pop.
Beyoncé is always working, always moving, always building
her empire. Just like Bey, my daughter
is always moving, always running, always building her Frozen castle, her scary
monster tent, her Dora house and her Peppa dance stage. She can’t stop, won’t stop. Ever. She’s running all day with the energy of
10,000 horses. And every time I think
she’s expended enough energy to make bedtime easier, just as I think she’ll
surely collapse into a slumber, she gets her second Beyoné-like wind and “She
be (up) all night! Oh Oh Oh!”
2. She loves to, “Say My Name, Say My Name.”
Mommy. Mommy? Mommy!
Mama. She says my name, incessantly. Almost as much as she likes to ask, “Why?”
3. She loves fans.
Both her adoring admirers and the commercial type. She could
stand in front of the cool breeze of a strong oscillating fan, letting her long
curly hair blow back for at least five minutes. And that’s a long time for a toddler. As far as the other fans, i.e. her family and the elderly people she
charms on the street, she could stand (perform) in front of them all day long.
4. She runs our world.
In one of my daughter’s favorite songs, Beyoncé asks, “Who
runs the world?” to which she then answers with a fist punch to the air “GIRLS!”
If by “world” you mean our house, then yes, she runs the world. And also in line with the lyrics of that song, “Who
runs this mutha?” Yes, my daughter runs her mutha.
5. She wakes up like dis.
Toddlers are adorable by nature. And because of this, they always look cute
and camera-ready, even and especially when they've just woken up. Every time I see my daughter waking from slumber, with her crazy, snarled curls and bright eyes, I
6. She has an alter ego.
Beyoncé created an alter ego for herself named Sasha
Fierce to help her get over her shyness on the stage. My daughter also has an alter ego. But hers is not Sasha Fierce. It’s something more like Fiery Disaster whose
sole mission is to destroy her parents’ confidence in their ability to parent.
7. She’s kind of a diva.
Sometimes I think we’re just one step away from getting the finger snap, neck shift.
Life as a toddler is one where other people are always
attending to their needs. They get
wheeled around in strollers, someone cuts up their food, they have personal
umbrella holders and personal maids. Hell, they don’t even have to wipe their own butts. So an inner diva is bound to come out every
once in a while. One that needs to be
gently kept in check. No, she may not demand white roses in her bedroom or that
her baths be filled with only Evian water, but she will, from time to time, throw a tantrum about the seams on her
socks and demand that you take them off. And then 30 seconds later she will have another tantrum when she demands you to
put them back on. Sometimes I think
we’re just one step away from getting the finger snap, neck shift.
8. Everyone says yes to her.
Whether it’s the big, innocent, Puss N Boots eyes, or the
sweet way she says “peez???!” or any of her many other toddler manipulation
tactics, it is really freaking hard for people to say no to a cute little
toddler. And this is often the case when
it comes to my daughter. Even I cave more than once in a while.
9. She loves to perform.
My daughter loves an audience, whether its singing “Déjà Vu” or “Crazy in
Love,” reenacting every single scene from "Frozen," or putting on a puppet show. She loves when we can’t help but dance along with
her as we watch. She loves that we WHOOP
for her after her final bow or during an exceptionally aggressive dance
move. She loves the applause.
My parents don’t really call to talk to me anymore. No, they want to be directed to the main
stage: their granddaughter. The clerks at the store and the doorman at my
building don’t ask me about my day. Nope, they go straight to the 2-year-old star of the show. Sure, my
friends are happy to see me, but it’s not me that gets the standing O. And you can bet that when there is a family
dance party, my daughter will go last and bring it back with an encore.