I know a teeny bit of her is me because she's a dancing machine but otherwise, I am perplexed daily as to where this prissy child came from. Today she wanted to play outside with the dog and I said, "Fine-but you can't go out in your pajamas." We went into her room to pick out clothes. It took 3 shirt offerings before she accepted the one I really had hoped she wouldn't want to wear. I left her with her outfit and came back into the living room. Minutes later I realize she's not out of her room yet. Did she fall asleep? I call her name. She comes rushing into the living room adorned in fancy rings, dressy shoes, a few necklaces and waaaay too much lip gloss. Lip gloss. You're going to go outside and play with a puppy and you want to wear lip gloss?
Where did we get this child? When I was her age I was rolling around in mud puddles and jumping off decks pretending to be Wonder Woman. This child wants hair glitter, lip gloss, baby dolls, a microphone (a REAL one, Mommy!), and to get a suntan in flipflops on a 50* day. I have to laugh because I've had to learn to embrace her prissyness.
Embrace prissyness. Never thought I'd do that.