She’s just under three feet tall and weighs 30-odd pounds, but our youngest, Layla, has learned to flip her small stature into a huge asset when it comes to getting through life as Lil’ Sis. We don’t coddle or over-indulge her, but thanks to being the last grandchild on both sides, she’s officially THE Baby Girl of the family and rocks the title like a crown of diamonds.
Layla’s siblings also relished their moments as little ones: Darius’ birth snagged him the Number One Son and First Grandchild spot, while Nia’s arrival made her our Firstborn Daughter. But the indulgence that Layla enjoys as the Baby-Baby Girl are next level, thanks to her intellect, affability and the doe-eyed, chubby-cheeked doll face that enchants anyone who encounters her (“Omigosh, she is PRECIOUS!”).  So, since she’s catered to by the sibs, carted around by cousins and adored by the rest of us, Layla is now a Pro Level Cutie-Pie who’s become adept at using those charms to occasionally dodge discipline and get her own way.
I’m sure that Layla planned to continue that hustle when she arrived at pre-school last fall, but the excitement of finally attending “Big Girl School” turned into a raw reality check, one that signaled the retirement of her Lone Toddler position by placing her with Mrs. Delinda and Mrs. Rebecca, a pair of savvy teachers who used recognized the Cutie-Pie Con for what it was and still insisted that Baby Girl fully participate in class. Since Nia had once breezed through the same curriculum, Layla probably would too, right?

Not exactly.
We braced for the shyness she displayed when mixing it up with new peers and authority figures, but right after the Thanksgiving holidays, Mrs. Rebecca and Mrs. Delinda started reporting that Baby Girl, while respectful and friendly with other kids, had a tendency to freeze if she was faced with an unpleasant task, as if she hoped being adorable would distract folks long enough to make them forget whatever she’d been assigned to do (messy arts and crafts, fix her pants before and after potty breaks, etc.). “We know Layla can do the work,” Mrs. Rebecca said, “but it’s like she wants us to instead.”
So I would drop to knee-level and explain, in words she could comprehend, that we expected her to try her best and obey the teachers’ instructions. Or. Else. A quick nod or “Okay Mom” signaled she understood, and Layla would temporarily improve, only to resume her Doll Face Dictatorship Methods soon after.
By the time March blew in, patience flickered out, and a new Battle of Wills soon started. Apparently, the Spring Break holiday awakened new resolve in Mrs. Delinda, who decided to hold fast with a matching-colors-with-patterns exercise to finally break the stubborn streak. That morning, as Layla’s classmates finished their projects and ran outside for recess, Mrs. Delinda kept her indoors, forsaking even her own break as she forcefully directed that each piece would be matched correctly by color and shape or both would sit there until she did.
Checkmate.

“That bottom lip poked out and her eyes got teary,” she told me at pick-up time, “but I don’t want her taking that act to kindergarten and become labeled a ‘problem child,’ ‘learning-disabled’ or worse. I’ve got two, so I know.”
I was impressed because those lessons—-initiative, self-reliance and getting the job done—were important ones for Layla to master. Sure, she could still revel in her lofty Baby Girl status…. as long as she knew that it would be just as rewarding to start growing up.