Cuteish

This week, M was voted "Best Dressed in the Neighborhood" by the good folks over at the bus stop.

There's no denying the girl loves clothes. My mom often recalls how at a very young age, when most kids are only interested in the toy aisle at a store, M always ran to the girls' department first.

Every morning she wants to wear a dress. If she doesn't have a wearable dress available, she frowns upon wearing a skirt, but its stock quickly surges when she realizes the only option left is pants.

D likes to tell her she looks fresh. An expression he uses on anybody/anything that appeals to him. She doesn't want to look fresh, she tell him. She likes to look "Cuteish in my clothes."

Lucky for her, she could don a potato sack and still look like a princess.





One day while browsing through Marshalls, I ran across a sign that said,



"Know who you are and accessorize accordingly."




M takes the mantra to heart.




She doesn't like her hair up in any type of contraption no matter how cute it may be. She likes lip gloss, hair detangler, and her princess brush.



She likes shoes. All shoes. She's an equal-opportunity shoe connoisseur.



She'll wear her Lunar Glide 3s with a skirt and tights, her ballet flats with shorts, and her rain boots with a princess dress. If she's wearing it, she's rockin' it. There's no doubt about that.





She likes purses and phones.



She likes hummus, yogurt, cheese, crackers, and Cuties. For lunch. Everyday!



She likes IQey (Calliou) and Olivia. And she pretends to like Ninjago and the Avengers in an effort to be cool in the eyes of J.



She likes school, gymnastics, and ballet even though she's never tried ballet.

She wants to take swimming lessons, play soccO, and go to Hansen so she could ride the bus with her brother.















She doesn't like me to take pictures of her, yet she won't pass up an opportunity to strike a pose!

If the girl wants to be Cuteish, who am I to say otherwise?