Lora at Fever has a post about girl children that got me thinking about my girl.
My daughter is, in fact, the daughter my father always wanted.
See, I was a tomboy. I was probably one of the few teenagers in America who had a father reminding them to put makeup on. Specifically lipstick. My dad was fanatical about lipstick. Always with the lipstick.
I may also be one of the few american teens whose father picked out her prom dress. (at least of those who also had moms (and even then, the girl probably went WITH the dad to pick out said dress)).
To say that my father is fashion conscious is an understatement.
To say that I don’t really care about clothes – also an understatement.
To say that my daughter is a fashionista – HUGE understatement.
She loves to wear makeup (I don’t wear makeup. At. all.).
She will not wear pants. (unless it’s her Karate outfit)
She will only wear dresses and she does not like all dresses. Just those that swirl when you spin.
She would be happiest in an outfit like the one shown above all day every day.
She doesn’t care that it’s uncomfortable, cold or otherwise un something. (like unsuitable)
She just cares if it swirls.
And did I mention she likes makeup?
Now here’s the thing.
She is actually my daughter.
She never left my side at the hospital and she looks a good bit like me so I am comfortable in that statement.
But she is not me.
She is this little girl who is willing to go to war with her mom almost every day* to ensure that she can wear her blue dress with brown argyle socks and a pink shirt.
She is this little girl who will shiver with cold and pretend she’s too warm to avoid having to wear a sweater over her outfit.
She is also this little girl who wears pants under her dress when we go to the park (because they slide better). And the little girl who compliments me when my shoes have even the slightest bit of heel or if I am wearing lip gloss.
She is this little girl.
And while I do not know or understand how she got to be the way she is – I try my best to embrace it.
I bought her a cosmetics kit for her birthday.
Because I know that if I DONT let her do something it is even more appealing. But she is not allowed to wear makeup out of the house. (and she has to share with her brother).
And so I try my best to work with the person she is to ensure she will also be a person I will be proud off.
And so she goes to karate and she proud of her green belt (toddler size).
And when she practices at home – her skirt swirls when she reverse kicks.
*okay that part might be a bit like me