beautiful

Out of nowhere she has opinions about what she should wear. And mostly what she demands to wear is a purple dress.

“Time to get ready  for the day,” I say.

“Purple dress?”

It is not always available. Sometimes, after some fuss, she’ll settle for polka dots.

We visited the zoo with David's parents

This morning, I picked out red pants, and she said, “Nope.”

“Alice, I’m sorry. It’s really late. It has to be red pants.”

“No red pants.”

Back and forth.

I told her we needed to hurry.

She looked at me and said, “Ooh. Beautiful dress, Mommy.”

(When she says it it sounds like, “Ooh. Fuel-full dess, Mommy.” And when she says it, it sounds like a blessing. My daughter thinks I am beautiful.)

“Thank you, Alice. I love you, Alice.”

She picked up the pants. “Beautiful pants too?”

“Oh. The most beautiful.”

(Once I was putting on makeup, and Alice held her hand out for the brush. I gave it to her. She dusted her nose and said, “Nice?”

Oh, no, I thought. Re-program!

“You look very nice. You always look very nice. All the time. Without makeup you look nice.”

And also you’re so smart.

I’ll be honest with you, I haven’t decided what I think about all that.

I know think she is beautiful. I think she is smart. I think she is kind and funny. And I tell her and tell her and tell her and tell her.)

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One thought on “beautiful

  1. Oh my gosh! I read that article several months ago and it really resonated with me. I think about it every time I see a little girl with sparkly shoes and my first instinct is to tell her how much I adore them.

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