So, some have asked for photos from the wedding but sadly, FameThrowa is the second most private person on Earth, behind Mr. Chatty. Followed closely by Sir Monkeypants. So there will be no public photos of my gorgeous sister and her gorgeous new husband or my own gorgeous husband and three gorgeous children.
At least, not their faces. Here is a shot of Little Miss Sunshine wishing at the fountain at the pre-wedding photo shoot. I really like the colours in this picture.
And here is a similar shot a few seconds later of Gal Smiley and Captain Jelly Belly.
The dress that Little Miss Sunshine wore was so very, very her. She loves pink and flowers and big, puffy, twirly skirts and sparkly shoes (did you notice the sparkle shoes?). She wanted to wear a tiara too and we were willing but we forgot it. She’ll definitely have a huge cream puff of a dress at her own wedding.
Gal Smiley was more of a wardrobe challenge. She’s our little tomboy and that’s a tough one for us sometimes. Both Sir Monkeypants and I were hoping she would wear a dress but that’s really unlike her, and more importantly, it makes her feel uncomfortable to be wearing girly clothes like that. I’ve been to more than one wedding where photos were ruined by a cranky child and the last thing I wanted was for Gal Smiley to be upset and refuse to pose for pictures because she was wearing some pink frilly costume.
So despite the fact that we did have a pink frilly dress on hand – just in case of a girly miracle – I made her a little yellow vest as an alternative, and she loved it right away. She wore it with a long sleeved t-shirt with a collar, brown pants, and some sweet black mary janes we got from our neighbour. In the end I think she looked quite adorable, and also, just like Gal Smiley should.
It’s odd sometimes, having a tomboy. We so want her to just be herself, to figure out what it means to be Gal Smiley. But there’s so much pressure from all kinds of sources on her, from her friends asking her why she wears boys clothes all the time, to people giving her gifts of frilly pink and purple clothing, to girls on the playground telling her she can’t play with the boys unless one of them is her boyfriend, to her younger sister wondering why she wants a Ken doll instead of a Barbie. We’re trying to help her walk the fine line between fitting in and being who she wants to be. I hope we’re doing an okay job.
I can definitely say this: I love that little girl, for who she is, for whoever she wants to be. Rock on with your tomboy self, little one.