Us Girls, Can do it too. We can dance, we can sing....
Stella is a big girl and she wants you to know it.
This kid does not stop talking.
“Big girls use the potty.” “Big girls wear underwear.” “Stella is big girl.” “Big girls put on coat.” “Big girls wear shoes.” “Big girls comb hair.” “Stella is big girl.” “Big girls take baths.” “Big girls draw picture”. “Stella is big girl.” “I punched James in school today”
One day, a few weeks ago she decided that big girls use the potty and just like that she was potty trained. She only wears a diaper at night now and she puts it on herself. On top of that Stella refuses to let anyone help her do anything.
She is stubborn, stubborn, and stubborn!
If you so much as help her pull down a t-shirt that is stuck around her big head she’ll take all her clothes off and start from scratch.
The only drawback to this “do it myself” attitude is her insistence on combing her own hair and cleaning her face after eating. She doesn’t do either very well so I’m the dad dropping off some feral child at nursery school with oatmeal on her face and hair teased out like some 80’s rock star with gonorrhea.
This would be fine for a woman’s shelter but for an upper, upper, upper, upper, upper middle class family like ours, it is truly an embarrassment. Sometimes I stand a good deal away from her flashing my rings and talking about “that poor homeless-shelter child that society failed” so people don’t think we’re related.
It usually works until Stella starts pointing at me saying, “That’s my dada.” I try to save face like an Asian person, glancing around, being all, “that kid doesn’t know who her daddy is.”
I give this about 15 more years until they hate each other.
This kid loves party dresses.
This kid loves ears.
Stella working out to Jillean Michaels.
This kid does not stop talking.
“Big girls use the potty.” “Big girls wear underwear.” “Stella is big girl.” “Big girls put on coat.” “Big girls wear shoes.” “Big girls comb hair.” “Stella is big girl.” “Big girls take baths.” “Big girls draw picture”. “Stella is big girl.” “I punched James in school today”
One day, a few weeks ago she decided that big girls use the potty and just like that she was potty trained. She only wears a diaper at night now and she puts it on herself. On top of that Stella refuses to let anyone help her do anything.
She is stubborn, stubborn, and stubborn!
If you so much as help her pull down a t-shirt that is stuck around her big head she’ll take all her clothes off and start from scratch.
The only drawback to this “do it myself” attitude is her insistence on combing her own hair and cleaning her face after eating. She doesn’t do either very well so I’m the dad dropping off some feral child at nursery school with oatmeal on her face and hair teased out like some 80’s rock star with gonorrhea.
This would be fine for a woman’s shelter but for an upper, upper, upper, upper, upper middle class family like ours, it is truly an embarrassment. Sometimes I stand a good deal away from her flashing my rings and talking about “that poor homeless-shelter child that society failed” so people don’t think we’re related.
It usually works until Stella starts pointing at me saying, “That’s my dada.” I try to save face like an Asian person, glancing around, being all, “that kid doesn’t know who her daddy is.”
I give this about 15 more years until they hate each other.
This kid loves party dresses.
This kid loves ears.Stella working out to Jillean Michaels.
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