Princess Farmer Girl

I was applying lip gloss when E looked at me with a disturbed expression.  I usually use a tinted lip balm which is of course a lot more subtle than this shiny liquid that was screaming for attention, my son's attention that is. 

E: What is that?

Me: Lip gloss.

E: Eeew! It's disgusting!  I don't want to look at you!

C: Mummy, it's very nice.  I like it.  Can I wear it when I grow up?

When you have a boy and a girl, you do get plenty of interesting conversations with opposing perspectives.

Later, I asked E why he thought the lip gloss was disgusting.  He said it looked like blood! Okay, fair enough but hey the lip gloss was not even bright red in colour, it wasn't even red for that matter!  I'm learning to see the world through an eight year old boy's eyes and it sure is mind-boggling.

Now, let's steer clear of blood and gore and move on to something more pleasant.  The subject of today's post is actually C.  The princess in the house.  Or more accurately "the princess farmer girl", a new term she coined herself.  Simply defined as a princess who likes to take care of animals.  

 

Does the princess syndrome come inbuilt in every girl? By princess, I don't mean in a diva sort of way but in a "ooohh, I love all things girly and pink is my favourite colour" kind of way.

I'm finding it quite refreshing after raising a roll in the dirt type of boy, figuratively speaking.  Though, it can get somewhat frustrating especially when you are already late for an appointment and the princess has declared that she only wants to wear that particular dress which is in the wash.  She doesn't get her way of course and puts on whatever that was chosen for her, crying tears of despair as she looks longingly at that dirty piece of laundry which she has set her affections on. 

Her favourite dress.  If she gets to decide, she will choose to wear this every day.

Recently, she attended a wedding and ever since that day, she has been telling me on a regular basis that she wants to grow up quickly so that she can wear a wedding dress.  And she reminds me of the necessity of an outfit change.  One white and one red, she says in her best 3 year old serious voice. 

I'm quite sure she didn't get this girly girl thing from me.  I'm a low-maintenance kind of girl.  I don't brush my hair till it shines, erm I sometimes even forget to comb my hair.  I put on makeup only when I feel like it and that's usually when I think the occasion is worth the hassle of me preening in front of the mirror.  I love my well-worn tank tops which have holes in them.  Okay, lest you picture me in rags or worse gaping holes at inappropriate places, I shall clarify that the holes are really tiny.  And that's just my walking around in the neighbourhood attire.  I do dress much better elsewhere.  I'm low-maintenance, not a slob.

So, I don't think I contributed to her being this way.  Well, it's a fun phase and I'm enjoying her.  My princess. 

As the years pass, we will look back at this phase in her life and have plenty to laugh at and chat about over manicure and chi-chi high teas.  Just us girls.  The princess and the queen.

P.S. To the boys in the family, you are of course welcomed to join us.  It would be nice to receive some gentlemanly help with the shopping bags.