The sweet sound of “no”

It’s 2:47am. My daughter is wide awake and walking around her room. I know this because of the thuds reverberating through the floor as she rummages through her bookshelf throwing books onto the floor.

I walk into her room and sigh, You’re supposed to be sleeping. 

I put her books away, straighten up her bed, pick her up, and hold her for a minute in her rocking chair. She rests her head against my shoulder, snuggling and molding herself to my body. She’s tired. 

Are you ready to go back to sleep?

She pushes herself away from me, looks me in the eye, and says No. 

A smile spreads across my face as I wrap her in a huge hug, and whisper, Good job! You said no!

This was her first time saying the word “no.” Before this, she would scrunch up her nose and shake her head from side to side. But tonight she voiced it to the world definitively and matter-of-factly: No. 

As a recovering people-pleaser, I’m thrilled. But more than that, this tiny word is a giant leap for her. My daughter’s speech is delayed so with every small step we cheer her on with the enthusiasm of someone finishing a marathon. 

It’s now 7:00am and I tell my husband that she said no in the middle of the night. He immediately needed to hear it himself so we started asking her any and every question we could think of to get her to say that sweet word again. 

Do you want to stay home? No.

Do you want cereal for breakfast? No. 

Want to wear your cute, pink overalls today? No.

I look over at my husband. He’s beaming. That’s the cutest thing I’ve ever heard.

Unable to contain my own smile, I add, I think we’re the only parents in the world who want to hear our kid say no. He agreed.