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I sat down with her and pulled out all her necklaces and bracelets, because when you're getting all dolled up with fake make-up, one must not neglect her accessories.
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Then she pulled out the fake hair straightener and proceeded to straighten her hair with it. And unless the ladies at daycare are doing this (and, if that's the case, what am I paying for?) then I have no idea where she got that move from. Until she announced that she was cutting her hair! She thought the straightener looked enough like scissors that they could do that. And she has had a certain fondness for scissors and knives lately, mainly due to the fact that she can't have them.
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Yes, every part of my being wanted to grab that lipstick, that nail polish, that straightener out of her hands and tell her, "You have so long to be a beautiful child, a little girl who doesn't want to wear make-up and thinks boys are gross and needs her mommy and daddy and won't make them drop her off at the mall 2 blocks away and still snuggles!" But the truth here? She's not doing that. She's not growing up too fast, or getting the wrong signals from the media, or becoming the result of an ever-changing society which places value on looks and not brains. She's playing. And I can fret and make a huge deal out of nothing, or I can play with her. And playing is what we did.
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