fashionista

I love how big Rosey-Pose is getting. And at the same time it's sad too, the changing of her sweet babiness to this sturdy galumphing toddler. Such independence!

Take this morning. After a sweet baby interlude when she woke up in the middle of the night and we had a cuddle-fest, rocking in the big chair downstairs and breathing in her little girl scent, this morning she was all Little Big Kid. I had her clothes laid out downstairs, but when she came down, she was dragging a sweatshirt and a pair of jeans.

I tried in vain to get her to wear what I’d picked out. Huge head shakes. Quivering lower lip.

I tried again. This time, a full-out wail – and she shucked her diaper and put on a dry one – all the while watching me to make sure I didn’t snatch the chosen clothing away. She hurriedly yanked on her sweatshirt and went to her father for help putting on the jeans.

Never mind the sweatshirt was her brothers and the pants were too big. This is what she wanted to wear, darnit.

I did win on the socks, though. Although since they were pink, it could be she was planning on wearing them anyway. I think the pink and satin days are gone.

My girl – mostly sunshine, with a few storms thrown in to make it interesting.

But I doubt she'll let me make her a faerie again for Hallow'een.