I knew that if I should ever be blessed with a girl, she would be a girly girl. One who likes clothes, dolls and wearing things in her hair. You know how I know? Because I am not girly. Yes, I love expensive shoes and purses, but that’s about as girly as I get. Not that there is anything wrong with being super girly. I admire it. I wish I could be more girly, but it’s just not me. I find myself comfortable in jeans, a Marmot parka and my hair in a ponytail.

While on Christmas break, Carson found my headband (yes, I own one). She put it on and loved it. She held her hand up to it, looked in the mirror and smiled. So, I bought her one of her own awhile back. When I went to change her out of her pj’s into her clothes. I put the headband on her to see how it looked. Then I tried to take it off from her to put her shirt on, she pushed my hands back and fussed at me. She can’t talk, but let me tell you, she was quite clear.

The funny part is, when she has it on. She slowly raises her hands to her head, quite often, to make sure it’s still on. She has a look on her face to sort of ask you, “Is it still on? Still look pretty?” I always reply, “Yes, Carson, it’s on. Still pretty girl.” She seems satisfied with that. I was happy that I captured that face.

I am happy that she’s turning out to be a girly girl. I hope that she can teach me a thing or two.

So, give me some advice on raising a girly girl. I’m all ears…..

:: Mo