When I woke up this morning, the first thing that I wanted to do after getting dressed was the have my Daddy fix my hair. My Daddy is the hair-fixer-upper in the family. Mama says that she is worried that she will hurt me while pulling it up, so she lets Daddy take over on that one. My Daddy is so, so gentle with his soft brush that I hardly feel it, and he sings and talks me through while he is getting my hair all pretty. My Daddy, he can be magical sometimes, especially when he sings to me.
There he is working that magic. It may not stay completely put together all day (because really, I play rough, and when I am busy being a toddler hurricane, my hair is the least of my worries), but it still stays away from my face, and my Mama says I still look like a beautiful princess even when it gets a little messy. After all, isn’t that what life is? Getting everything all put together just so you can work to mess it up again?
There I am, already working to undo the beautiful work that Daddy did. Play hard, but always look absolutely gorgeous when you do. 🙂
My Mama and Daddy have gloves for their feet called “toe socks” that cover your little piggies by wrapping them all separately instead of having a foot mitten like normal socks. Daddy thought that I might like a pair too, so he ordered some from over on the other side of the world from a place called “China,” and he had them sent all the way to our little house. It took a long time for them to get here because it is so far away, but they were well worth waiting for.
They are so fashionable and pretty. Now my little piggies are real piggies, and when I wiggle my toes in my socks, I can see them all. I can do the “This Little Piggy” song now with my little socks with my little piggies all covered up all in a row. Oink, oink, little Dorian toes, oink, oink.
See me? That’s my “beautification” going on. That is my Mama’s fluffy makeup brush. Mama uses it in the morning when she is getting ready for her day along with other things that paint her face a little and make it smoother looking. My Mama says that it makes her look less tired from running after me and more “alive.” You are always alive, Mama, so I don’t get that, but I know why you want to be fancy. I always want to be fancy with necklaces and bracelets and pretty clothes with my favorite characters, and I can even dress up like Supergirl sometimes and be really, really fancy. (Poor Mama, she doesn’t have a Supergirl costume, so she has to settle for regular clothes and be fancy with jewelry and makeup. She says she is not a fancy girl, though, so I guess she doesn’t mind.)
When my Mama gets ready, I get ready too. I brush my teeth with her, sometimes trying to steal her toothbrush instead of using my little Yoda one, and I brush my hair with her and get a little “scrunchie” in my hair so that I won’t look “like a sheepdog” as Mama says. I say, “out of the eyes” to let her know that I am ready to get my hair pretty so that I can go and get busy messing it up again and again.
The last thing Mama does is put on makeup. She says “not too much” because she says that you just want to put on enough to look a bit brighter like the stars in the sky, but you don’t want to shine like the big moon that’s up there. I want to be the moon though, so when I get hold of Mama’s lipstick, and I have, I put it on at least 3 times in a row just to make sure that I have it exactly right. I am not good at aim yet, though, so Mama has to clean up my face art a bit after I am done.
The brush thing is for your whole face, and she calls what she puts on bronzer. She says it is “just that little glow to make you shine.” Well I like shining, and I shine all of the time just by being me, but I want to be sparkly, too. Mama puts a teeny bit on the brush, and then I put it on just like my Mama. I want to do everything just like her since I am learning, but I want to do it myself. I dab and swirl and make face art, and then Mama tells me that I am “beautiful.” I love the sound of that word. I am beautiful, and so is Mama even without the skin stuff that she puts on. I like her best at night when I wake up and I am sad. She doesn’t have makeup on then, but when she snuggles me to sleep, she is at her most beautiful I think. Makeup isn’t all that it’s cracked up to be… snuggling is beauty.
That said, I still like the sparkly face stuff, and I will keep putting it on just like Mama, and I will be a sparkly, beautiful, happy me.
I woke up like this, but isn’t it naturally beautiful? I love it because when I shake my head back and forth, my hair goes back and forth too, and I feel fancy.
My Mama says she and Daddy lived through this thing called the 1980s, and she said during that time lots of people wore bright colors, lots of jean everything, and spandex, lots of spandex. She said there was lots of lace and bangle jewelry. Earrings she said were huge, and actually… everything was huge then she said. I think that I would have like the 1980s and kind of wish that I had been there. I like bright colors, especially pink and green, and I like putting as much jewelry as I can on my arms. Maybe I would have fit right in. Mama says that people went kind of crazy with fashion in the 1980s, though, and that you could become something called an “80s fashion victim.” I don’t know if I like the sound of that, so maybe I’m better off here and now after all.
The one thing that she said that her and all of her friends had was called a “poof,” and that this is what I was wearing this morning when I got up. Mama said that she had to use a hot thing called a curling iron though and that she used something called “hairspray” that made your hair like it was glued together and that it became like the rocks that I play with outside. I don’t need those things, though, Mama, because I slept on it so long that it will be this way even when you try to brush it down– all the way until you give me a nice warm bubble bath. If you give me that thing called “Aquanet” that you mentioned though, Mama, it can be like this forever and ever and ever.
“Quien es esa nina, who’s that girl?
Senorita, mas fina, who’s that girl?” — Madonna
I found your purse, Mama. Usually you just keep it up on the table where I can’t get all of the pens and your planner and your wallet out, but today you forgot and left it right in the corner beside your computer. I have an eagle eye, Mama, don’t forget, so I found it right there right away first thing.
It’s really, really heavy, and it is almost as big as me… and the long strap that goes on your shoulder needs to be way smaller to fit me. I am super strong though, Mama, and I can carry it all around the house squealing with my little running shoes and your purse on my shoulder. Don’t worry, I will take good care of it as I drag it all around the house as fast as I can. It’s a good thing that Daddy picked out a really sturdy one for you. He says it’s “practical,” and I agree.
See, Mama? I am just like you. It looks better on me honestly, so can I just keep it? I can put all of my little important things in there like my little stacking cups and my fake keys and I can take all of your old things out. Please? No? Well, I’m not giving up easily… catch me if you can.
My Mama says now that my hair is finally starting to grow that it sometimes needs to be “tamed” after sleep. I, though, prefer to keep it just as it is. Just like me, it is wild and free. See, Mama? It is quite stylish. I call this look “the thinker.” I am always thinking, Mama, and right now I am thinking of running away from you and your little brush.
Mama and Nana took me on a surprise journey yesterday to a magical place called a “shoe store.” I know what shoes are because I take Mama and Daddy’s all the time and carry them around the house. I even hide them far under the big bed and the crib, and I’m so good sometimes they can’t find them for a long time. I call this “the shoe game.” Mama sometimes looks like she may not like the shoe game, but I sure do.
I knew that there were little bitty shoes my size because I have sandals and tennis shoes and dress shoes for when we go out sometimes (although I prefer my toes to be bare and free), but I have never been on a journey to go and get my own shoes before that are just the size of my feet.
We went to a store called “Saxon’s,” which has been around for a long, long time in Richmond where we are. There were so, so many little shoes, and everything was bright and colorful and beautiful. A lady came over named Betty, and she asked about my walking and my age. Then she took this giant foot shaped metal thing with slides and put my foot on it to “measure” it. She talked to me softly and played with my feet, and I couldn’t help but do everything that she said (without words– it was her eyes that told me what to do)… she was like magic. She said that she had been fitting little people for shoes for 37 years, and Mama later told me that she could have even fitted her for shoes when she was small ages and ages and ages ago.
Then she came out of the back with a bright white pair of shoes with little teeny flowers on them. Mama sighed and said they were almost like her first walking shoes, and Nana said they were like hers as a baby, too. Some things, Mama said, stay the same for a long time because they are so good– and those are often the best things. Betty the magician then put my shoes on just right without me curling my toes. Mama can’t do that all the time, but all that she had to do was to look at me and tap my foot, and I straightened them right out. Once they were on, I stared and stared at them… until Betty gave me a bright orange balloon that said Saxon’s Shoes on it that floated in the air no matter how much I tried to hold it down.
Mama and Nana say that these shoes are going to help to support my little ankles when I walk and keep me from walking on tippy toes. Mama later told me that the way that I just got my first pair of shoes was exactly the way that she remembered getting shoes when she was little. She told me that there weren’t many places that still paid attention to making sure that you got everything to fit “just right” and that Saxon’s was special because they did things this way– making sure that little ones like me are taken care of and are happy. Most of the time now, including Mama, everyone just gets what they want on a computer or they go out and are on their own. Mama told me that people used to pump gas for you and check your tires, that clothes used to be fitted, and that shoes were always just the right fit because others helped to make sure that they were a long time ago, but even when she was little, that was starting to go away. I think that she may be right– that we need to hold on to moments when others truly take the time to help you out and to help, in small ways, to take care of you.
As for my shoes… I have already worked on scuffing them up and making art out of them. Mama says that will just make them even better to see when I am big, so I’m going to really get these ones worn down to make her proud. Wind me up and watch me go, Mama.