Four going on fourteen.

She loves clothes (she prefers dresses) and shoes (she prefers flip-flops and sandals and don't even think about trying to get tights on her without a fight!)

She hates, hates, hates to have her hair brushed. She refuses to wear clips, pony tails, or bows. She will wear a headband to school but the moment she is home she jerks it out of her hair.

She is opinionated. She knows how she wants to look and that's all there is to it.

I decided long ago that I wasn't going to fight her on her clothes or her hair. It just wasn't worth starting out the day with a big fight.

This morning as she was trying to find something to wear she studied her closest and huffed in disgust, "I don't like any of these clothes. They all look so ratty."

Ratty? What four-year-old says that?

But as I looked at her clothes, I had to agree. All of her fall and winter clothes did look ratty. Many of them were consignment sale finds to begin with. Compound that with the fact that warm spring like weather has only taunted us with a nice day here and there and cold weather seems determined to pop back in just when you thought it was safe to show your little girl some new summery clothes you bought her and everything she should be wearing on a cold day does look worn out and well, ratty.

So after much "discussion", I relent and let her wear a new non-ratty short-sleeved dress.

Next up on the "discussion" docket - shoes. "Do you want to wear you Hello Kitty shoes?" I asked hopefully.

"No."

"What about your pink glittery shoes?"

"No."

"What about your red shoes?"

"No. I don't think so."

I knew which shoes she wanted to wear. And I knew she was going to look like a spring chicken if she wore them but it wasn't even 8:00 am and we had already had more "discussions" than I like to start the day with so I said, "Do you want to wear your new sandals?"

And before she even answered me with a giant smile that stretched from ear to ear, I knew the answer was yes.

Because when I showed her these flip-flops after I bought them last week, she said, "I" and then she paused momentarily for effect before she finished with, "LOVE them."

And as she was chattering on about how she had seen a pair similar on someone else and had wanted a pair and how they sparkled in the sun and how they would look so lovely with all of her clothes because they had so many beautiful colors in them, I couldn't help but think to myself she's four going on fourteen.

And it made me just a little sad.