Small Style, Christmas Crabby Style
I had grand ambitions for a Small Style post featuring a Stella fashion show in the marble-clad lobby of a five star hotel. We had a Christmas party to attend today. She had a pretty dress to wear. With just the right bow. And we were going to do matching mother-daughter patent leather mary janes. But poor wee S spiked a fever yesterday. At daycare, which is great, because I don't have the linguistic dexterity explain that apart from a runny nose, she really HAD been fine the whole day.
I thought we'd make the most of it today, maybe enjoy some forbidden screen time and a Christmas movie. But I tell you, my wacko kid gets totally crazysauce when she's sick. Like, aren't kids supposed to snuggle and lie quietly under a blanket on the couch?
Not Stella. Real Talk: when she's sick, she's all: Over here! What's that! I touch this! Give me! Want! Pick me up! Put me down! Laughing hysterically! Give me! Give me! Touch that! Waahahahahahahah! Crying for no reason! AHahahahahahah. You're the funniest! Running! Running! Wahhhahaha. Crying! Okay. I'm fine now. Excuse me, I must dink the cat water. And then put my hands in the toilet. Twice. And now I'll just cry a bit. And then throw cat kibble all over the living room.
Keep in mind that I live in a 95 square meter apartment and am always about a meter away from my kid. And still she got up to so much trouble today. When she's sick she gets supercrazy super powers. Bonkers. I'm telling you.
Its a roller coaster, I tell you. I'm I the only one with such a crazy kiddo?
Needless to say, we didn't get any pretty Small Style pictures. So, instead, BEHOLD! A crappy and poorly executed knockoff Pinterest Christmas pictures and further proof that I use the holiday season as an excuse to torture my poor child.
Pyjamas: Joe Fresh. From Last Year. Chosen for her by her Papa.
Forwny Face: Totally my fault.