Cinderella Dress

On a daily basis, Maison does things that show me how much she is growing up. Brushing her own teeth, putting on her own shoes, being able to reach things that were once too high up for her... She has also grown quite particular about her wardrobe. She always wants to wear a "Cinnnerella Dess"... Mommy is not a dress person. Therefore, when Mommy purchased a lot of Maison's summer clothes, Mommy tended to gravitate toward capri pants and shorts with cute little tops. Some mornings, I have to lift her out of bed, change her pull-up and dress her while she is still in a state of semi-consciousness. These semi-conscious mornings are a cake walk. I put on her shorts or capris and her shirt and we are out the door before she even has a chance to realize I took her pj's off. Some mornings, she is out of the bed and under my feet while I am still drying my hair. Wide awake mornings, like this one, have become quite challenging.

As I was filling her sippy cup with milk, she appeared out of her room. I looked at her in her cute little penguin pj's with her crazy bed head of hair and admired how precious she was. Then I said, "OK let's go get you dressed!" "I want a pretty Cinnnerella Dess Mommy!" Ugh! I am already running late because I had to bake a tomato pie for a potluck at work today and now we have to go through picking out clothes. I sit her up on the changing table and go open her closet. Pull out dress #1 and hold it up for her inspection. "Not dat one, Mommy!" "How about this one? Mommy likes this one!" "No, no, not dat one Mommy!" Count to ten. Take 2 deep breaths. Pull out Dress #3. Hold it up and look at her pleadingly to agree. Huge smile spreads across her face. "Dat one Mommy. It so pretty!" I hurry and put it on her, comb the bed head, put in the bow, get her shoes on before we go through the same scenario for those and lift her off the changing table and onto the floor. As I start to go out of the room, that little voice stops me. I turn around and my angel is standing there holding the skirt of her dress out like she is going to curtsy, spins around, looks at me says "I beautibull, Mommy!" With misty eyes, I replied, "Yes, baby, more beautibull than Cinnnerella..." I squatted down and when those little arms wrapped around my neck and she looked at me with that smile that said thank you for dressing me in a beautibull Cinnerella dress, all I could think was "Who cares if I am 15 minutes late today? This is what being a Mommy is all about..."