I have this little girl who is as prissy as they come. She insists on wearing dresses and silver high heels everyday.
We fight over her hair, already. She wins.
She’ll only wear dresses that have a sash on it.
She compliments my make-up (when I wear it) and comments on other girls’ clothes and shoes.
It’s a little bit crazy. I don’t remember being like this when I was a little girl, and I’m certainly not like this now. Have I told you I’m letting my hair go gray? Yeah, I am. I do remember a small spell I went through about the age of 7 where I wanted to wear the same skirt every day of my life. It was taffeta. Black, white, and red checked. I loved the feel of it and the sound of it. It twirled, like really good. My mom hid it from me eventually and claimed she didn’t know what happened to it. I understand her desperation now. Other than that, there was a lot of bracelets I wore to school around the age of six. My dad said they sent me to school looking like a gypsy. But that was really about the extent of my girliness. The rest of my time, I was just average in the prissy department.
So I’m kinda treading on unchartered territory with this over-the-top fancy stage. And to think she’s only two years old. My only hope is that this stage of princess poo-poo is a phase and preferably a short lived one, or lordy mercy, we are in for it people.
As much as I love to share her cute dress up pictures, I really love it when I can share pictures like the ones below.
We went camping and I accidentally on purpose forgot to pack her heels. That left her no choice but to wear t-shirts and shorts. She got a little bit crazy with the dirt. It kind of made me cringe at first, thinking maybe she would get worms or something, but then I just rolled with it. I don’t even know how one contracts worms, but somewhere in my brain I have it filed in the same drawer as playing in the dirt.
She just doesn’t like wearing pants. There’s just something about them I guess. So she traipsed around in her undies, barefooted and had a fine time. Then when she discovered the dirt, she was like backyard chickens taking a dirt bath.
It did my heart some good to see her get down and dirty. There is hope that she might turn out okay.
When she was done, I took a rag and some water and sponge bathed her, so the funny thing is, she was probably the cleanest of us all.
But you can bet after we made it home, she asked to put on her dress right away, even before her real bath.