As you know, BigBoy's first day of K was an emotional day for me and Sassy. So what better way to get our minds off the sadness in our hearts? Go Shopping! Go to Lunch! Shop some more!
Sassy and I hit the road and headed up to the City. Girl Time I told her. "Girl Time? No boys?? Yeah!! Ha ha ha ha ha (think neener neener voice.)" Alright, game on. Let's see what this only child situation is like again. I needed to get some things for BB that I either a) couldn't find over the weekend or b) totally spaced. Mainly tennis shoes. I forgot the boy needed some sneaks for PE. BB doesn't wear tennis shoes. ever. It's Crocs in the summer and Fuggs in the winter--if he's wearing shoes at all. We walked into the shoe store and I quickly realized my mistake of taking Sassy with me. She raced down the crowded kid's shoe isle.
"AAAAAWWWWW!!! Moooommy look! Pink! and 'parkley! and Piiiiiink! Ahhh!! and Princesses!!!! Oh Mommy. MY school shoes?? Deese for me???"
And then she gave me The Look. You know the sweet, you-really-truly-can't-say-no-to-me look. And usually I can, really, truly say no to her. Usually The Look only works on the Daddy/Grandparent types. But not today. Not on the day my first born, my baby boy, left me. She had me. I caved. I got her the most gaudy pink, sparkley, princessy shoes you could ever dream of. And she loves them.
She wanted to put them on the second she woke up from her nap. "Mommy, where my 'parkley shoes??" Shoes were on, a few taps on the floor for good measure and then came the second request. "I need music mommy.... Beyonce. I need Beyonce." Cue All the Single Ladies, please ....(excuse the table- just keepin' it real folks)
I don't get the "girlie" thing. I'm not girlie. I thought, no way my kids would be girlie... if I even had a girl. I was totally convinced I would be a mom of all boys. And since my first child was a boy, surely any girl that would follow would be a tomboy-- like I was. But no. She want PINK everything. You want sparkles on your toothbrush, really? This wasn't how it was supposed to be. My husband is a coach for Pete's sake. We were supposed to have gym rat kids. I never saw this coming. I don't get it. It's not part of my being. But I guess Karma came and bit me in the butt. My mom is about as girlie as you can get. The smaller, sparklier, cuter, the better. She's also a crafter. Me? Not so much. But my daughter? OH YEAH. Nana's genes totally skipped me and took all that extra time and energy and gave me a super-turbo, pink and crafty, girlie girl. They are kindered spirits. *sigh*
So we have pink in our house. Lots and lots... and lots of pink. And dresses. And sparkles. And princesses. And to be honest, it is kinda fun to have tea parties and dress dolls and dance to Beyonce. Maybe I'll cave again and get Sassy a Bedazzler for her upcoming birthday. She might get sparkles on her toothbrush after all.