My Little Diva

This morning I sent Iris off to school in a purple floral tank top with green floral leggings and crystal encrusted sandals. She had pulled the top half of her hair into a silver bowed, slicked down pony tail that hung next to her face and the back was in a loose low pony at the nape of her neck. She topped it off with bug-eyed sunglasses.

I feared that if I took a picture she would think it was because I thought her choices quite excellent and she might repeat the experiment.

I took the above photo yesterday so she could see how ridiculous her new fascination with "bangs" looked. As you can see, the bright eyes and smile make the bangs almost unnoticeable.  In fact, she looks dang cute. I decided maybe I was overreacting and let her wear them. Sadly, that led to today's half head bang/bowed-pony.

Sigh.

I did try to talk her into matching her clothes. I did offer to help with her hair. She wanted none of it. And, because I have to say no to ever so many things, I sent her out into the world, clashing clothes and all, biting my tongue so that I wouldn't tell her she needs a mother, looks like an orphan, or looks ridiculous.

I looked at her, so proudly strutting her stuff and was overwhelmed with her independence.

What were we thinking, sending an independent child of seven, with the street smarts of a 35 year old, into first grade? She's too old for all of them. Sometimes I think she's too old for me.

I figure today could go one of two ways: The kids will see her lack of fashion sense and mock her into conformity OR (and I suspect this may be the case) she will announce her presence with confidence and next thing you know, all the little first grade girls will be begging their mothers for pony tails that hang in their faces and insisting that Iris doesn't match her clothes and they should also be able to wear purple stripes with red plaid with a rockin' orange floral hair bow.

You are welcome.