Fashion Baby

I sometime get these exciting compliments about PLJ, and I get a super gush of flattery that someone has taken some time to read up on-seriously-the drivel, dribble of my life by exposing the details of our family. These posts can be dense, and it must be that when I get to typing away, I actually picture anyone stumbling across this here blog and just not officially knowing what is going on, it is essential to inflate the picture to show the details-including the sounds, sweat, and tears that flow freely from our abode. I apologize to the dear readers of PLJ, that my lengthy writing, whether it is good, bad or ugly, just starts pouring out, and I do find myself desperately trying to be quick, only to find that I have (yet again) gotten carried away. So as a new year unfolds, thank you to those who do find the time to click over here and read this Mama's thoughts.

Today, I must discuss my fashionable daughter. All of the grandmas, the two of them, keep both of the babes in high fashion. We are so blessed to get these sweet stacks of outfits for both I & F to keep them looking cute from the moment they get in their jammies at night, to the moment they get dressed...at some point during the day. Miss Fiona has taken a keen interest in picking out her clothing in the recent weeks, and "No! A fo-fo shirt. NO!! A PINK fo-fo shirt." Interpretation: I need to find a pink flower shirt. Pink flower shirts are all the rage these days, but this morning, when she asked for THE pink flower shirt, and I found THE pink flower shirt, she changed her mind to ask for a red dog shirt...oh brother.Everything needs to be pink. Except maybe not the shoes....some days she wants the brown shoes, and some days the pink shoes, BUT not the light pink shoes "A udder ones" would be the hot pink shoes. I try to cater to her whims, because if you don't like what you are wearing, your entire day just might go amuck. I mean, I could be interfering with Fiona's dream to walk into story time wearing the right pink coat, with the perfect brown shoes, and the amazing pink flower shirt. Who am I to judge what makes this girl feel like she stepped out of baby Vogue. I just know that we have a problem on our hands, and pretty soon, these doting grandmas will say, "Buy your kids clothes yourself!" and Fiona is just going to look at me and question why her personal shoppers have gone on strike. Even now, she knows was it Mana or Nani that bought her a certain outfit or accessory. I was having an argument with a 20 month old on the fact that I actually bought her a pair of pajamas, and she was insistent that "Mana got! NO Mana got!" Fine. Again. I do not exist.On Christmas Eve, I had the babes dressed up in cute little "matching" in that they both had on black clothes, and I thought it would be cute for them to stand in front of our Christmas tree for a photo. Fiona needed no pleading or prodding, and she gingerly backed herself right up to the Christmas tree to pose for her photo. It was difficult getting Iain settled down and smiling in a normal way, but Fiona just loves the camera. After that night, she has been asking to have her photo taken, and I have noticed that when she feels cute, then she wants to be captured on the digital forever.I have created a monster. I am sure that she will start bossing me around, telling me what I should and should not wear within the year. Pretty soon I will be out of the maternity doldrums and hauling out my nursing wardrobe for the spring and summer months. Oh joy. It will be fine. I have no fears that this little opinionated female will be very vocal about her wardrobe from here on out, so Husband, as we like to say, "You will just have to make more money" to keep your daughter in the lifestyle she has (obviously) grown accustomed to.