Mother's Day Performance

Last week, Alice happily chirps that she will be performing a song with the Primary during Sacrament Meeting for Mother's Day next week. She's thrilled at the prospect of being "on stage" for the first time ever. She tells me she might be shy in front of everyone. She giggles and whispers that she might point to Daddy instead of me at the end of the song. She tells me that her hair must be "beauty."

Alice wakes up this morning and I remind her of her upcoming performance. Her jaw literally drops and she hops to it. Frustrated that the only puffy-sleeved dress is a costume (and therefore inappropriate for church attire), and that her only puffy-sleeved shirt was mysteriously dirtied the day before by a spontaneous frolic in the rain, she collapses in a despairing heap. How on earth can she be fancy enough for a performance without puffy sleeves?! I rummage through her shirt drawer and find a salmon-colored top that has gathered cap sleeves...close enough, she decides. I lay out the matching (and not-so-matching-but-still-passable) skirts and she declines them all. Even the frilly, fancy, sparkly ones! No, she knows today is a very special day and that requires something extra...more color! I chat with her briefly along the lines of "most people wear a shirt that matches a color in their skirt." She listens carefully and respectfully, considers her feelings, and decides that today she does not want to do what other people do. I can't decide if I am proud or disappointed.

No matter! She is dressed to the nines in her own way and we head to the bathroom for the beauty hairdo. She considers her options out loud as she sorts through the hairdo accessories, "Hmmmm. Braids! No, a gi-mungous poof. No, one braid on top and one in back. No, both!"

"Both?"

"Yes. A poof here and a braid in back and then I'll do the rest."

(I wonder what "the rest" entails and can't wait to see what she has in mind.)

Ta da! One gi-mungous poof in front and a braid in the back. Then Alice places the rest of the clips--every clip in the house--in her hair and declares it beautiful enough. I wish you could see all the clips, but they're in the back.

She tells me that she is now prettier than all the mothers at church. I tell her she certainly looks spectacular. She poses for a couple pictures, "Make sure you can see my braid in the picture. And my shoe sparkle." (that's a tiny stick-on gem she found in the car one day and stuck to her new sandal)

Oh yeah. Self-portrait.

Once at church, she keeps asking when exactly she will get to go up. Her time comes, she sings the song, points at me at the right time, and comes back down with a big smile. Her choice of clothes and hairdo attracts a lot of attention from adults and kids alike. I receive several comments on it throughout church :)  Maybe that's why she likes to be SO over-the-top. 

Anyway, she's a funny, funny little girl that's growing up quickly. I thought the whole experience would make me nostalgic for her fleeting childhood, but I didn't feel that way. I don't tend to miss the stages we've left. I'm surprisingly in love with the girl she is right now, all the time. She's on the edge of something these days, between preschooler and true little girl. It's a little awkward for me 'cuz sometimes I'm not exactly sure what she needs from me or how to play with her in that moment. I just need more time with this new little girl to figure her out all over again.