Hayleigh loves to dress up. I love to oblige her. So, I spotted just the cutest.outfit.ever. at Crazy 8 and since I had a coupon (Did you hear that honey? I had a couponn!) I went for it. It was a cute little yellow sweater, a little denim skirt, the world's cutest tights with yellow suns on it, black patent leathers and a matching bow.
Hayleigh couldn't wait to show off her new duds at "school" aka daycare.
(I'll pause to wait for all of the gasps to subside at the mention of the "d" word)
She walked into daycare and all of her little girlfriends ran up to her saying "Hayleigh I love your clothes", "Hayleigh you look so cute." "Hayleigh your shirt is so cute". I can see that Hayleigh is getting upset. So upset in fact, that she had moved her hand to her hip and was stomping her foot. One little girl ran up to give her a hug and said "Hayleigh you are so cute". For reasons I could not understand at the time, Hayleigh pulled away, stomped her foot and yelled "I am not cute!" Then she ran over to me and buried my head in to my leg.
I wasn't sure what was happening so I bent down and asked her, "Hayleigh what's wrong?"
"I'm not cute, mommy, I beautial!"
For a split second all I could think was how sad her life is going to be if she gets upset about compliments that aren't quite up to her standards. Or, how tough life is going to be if she goes around demanding that girls call her beautiful. But, I figure, three is a little young for me to sit her down and explain in great depth the intracies of girl politics. Plenty of time for those sorts of talks.
So, instead I looked her square in the eye, smoothes her hair, and said, "Yep, Baby, you're beautial". To which came the quick reply:
"Yes. But I not a baby!"