My daughter has the most amazing mop of curly, honey colored hair that I've ever seen. The other day, I pulled it into a top bun, and she looked at herself in the mirror and said, "I'm a beautiful ballerina!" Now, this is not the time and place to discuss imagery and marketing that promotes dismorphic body image in young girls. This is a celebration of the utter girly-ness that my three year old exudes.
When my first born was a baby, I lived around a lot of amazing friends that would give me bins and bags full of baby clothes. There was a glorious mix of colors, patterns, and sizes, and my daughter dressed in the coolest unisex clothes I've ever seen. I proudly threw her in a batman onesie and paraded her through Target, snickering at the old ladies that called her a boy. "Oh, anyone can wear superheros. Please don't gender my baby, Ma'am!"
Well, that was all good and fine until my daughter could pick her own clothes, and from that moment on it was the sparkliest, frilliest dresses she could get her hands on. She'd strut down the hall of daycare, back when I could send her to daycare, wearing sunglasses and a huge tulle dress, usually with some kind of animal ears or fancy hat atop her head. She loves to dress up.
As my daughter was now a ballerina, she requested one of her fanciest dresses. She spun around the living room pretending to be on stage, giggling and waving her arms. I found a YouTube video of ballerinas, and she stretched and flowed with utter excitement. Then she turned to me.
"Mom! You have to be a ballerina, too!"
The crusty, tired mom in me wanted to stay in my soiled t-shirt and jean shorts, but as I'm trying to embrace the magic of these little moments, I relented.
"Ok, want to get me a dress?"
Her eyes lit up, and she bolted to my closet. Seconds later, she had picked out a beautiful yellow dress with white flowers that my mother bought me last summer. --Side note: my mother still buys me clothes, and always buys me the best clothes. Thanks, Mom!-- I tied my hair up in a huge bun and slid on the dress, and I actually felt amazing.
I haven't worn any of my work clothes in over a month, but it felt so good to slip on something pretty. My daughter and I then proceeded to dance in the living room while her baby sister watched from her play yard. It was delightful and magical, and I was so thankful to my girl for reminding me that sometimes you just have to shake off your mood and dance.