Cissy

I have yet to tell the story of our littlest most powerful member of our family...she is all of 4 years old.

It's my fault, I am not in any type of denial. She just LOVED shoes before she could reach her feet. Her clothes are of better fashion sense than mine ever have been. So I may have provoked a little of her inner diva. We call it self-expression.

Our day with this little lady goes a little something along these lines; She wakes up (in our bed, because Fireman just cant say no to the raspy voice asking, "Daddy? Can I sleep with you?" This is a very sensitive task. The way she wakes up will determine how our entire day will run, so we have been known to try multiple tactics to get her to at least not kick us while squealing whale noises as she climbs out of bed.

Once that has been accomplished, we make her usual for breakfast...waffles and milk. Any variation is unacceptable. So if Costco is out of waffles...I'm screwed. She also needs a little chill time in the morning. So on mornings she doesn't go to school, I sit with her and sip my coffee for as much GMA I can possibly get in. So sweet you may think...I also sit with about 13 of her newly "can't do without" toys, a blankie that inevitably always stinks, and Cissy is also trying to wrangle our defenseless, small yorkie-poo into sitting on our laps. So, if coffee isn't spilled, its a miracle.

Getting dressed is the worst time of our day. I always dreamed that once I had my daughter, my days would be filled with dress up and makeovers. I was wrong, oh so wrong. She loves to dress herself. So after about a year of fighting this every morning- I decided to go with the flow most mornings. After all, she changes her attire at least four times a day and usually ends up running around the house with only her princess underwear on. Her taste in clothing and mine are no where near close. For example, I would prefer not to have my darling little girl dress as a modern day punky brewster. I mean, two pairs of different colored tights with socks along with a bright pink polka dot tank top that is 2 sizes two small is a little weird, right? I mean some days she even manages to get her baby doll shirts over her head and we actually go to Costco like that, because she does this exactly 2 minutes before I am ready leave the house. Occasionally I get the, "oh how cute" looks, but more often than not I am getting the, "How could her mother let her out of the house that way?" or probably more like, "Where did that outfit come from?" looks.

She has this thing lately with her silver shoes- so those are worn everywhere, along with what she calls bracelets...these are really just over sized ponytail holders of all colors. She wears them on her ankles and her wrists. Just darling. I almost forgot the purse- she changes her purse everyday. So if she is wearing Ariel's dress-up costume for the day, it has to be a red purse filled with her 13 can't so without toys of the day. Under NO circumstance am I allowed to offer any suggestions with regards to her wardrobe.

So what, right? I guess at least she is clean and fed? It really is my issue... who cares what everyone at Costco sees or thinks. At least that is what I try to tell myself every God forsaken day of my life right now.

Until the day she actually cares that what she is wearing is well... different, I am choosing to relish in the absolute carefree attitude my daughter has. Her lesson to me is so much greater than having her clothes match head to toe. She is teaching me every day that it is OK to be caught up in doing what you want to do, not what other people expect. She is so much her own spirit, and I find myself envious of her naive ability to run around in princess panties. I want to twirl around with her little hands in mine singing princess tunes.

So for now, and as long as I can have it, I accept this little rambunctious precious energy as one of the most beautiful gifts I have ever received.