Saturday, October 8, 2011


Meet my two-year-old-niece, Miss Thang. So named by her medical team in the delivery room, because even at birth, her fabulosity was just, well, too much.

Wassup bitches! Here's me on my first vacation. Workin' it.  

She’s a smart, creative, fiercely independent tot with a style and attitude all her own. Or as Shakespeare so aptly puts it: Though she be but little, SHE. IS. FIERCE.

 Check out the new kicks. Pretty sweet, right?

But when she’s not setting fashion trends on the playground or strutting confidently down imaginary runways, this pint-sized diva, like any girl just wants to have fun.
She loves to eat….

This blue stuff tastes like rainbows, puppies and sunshine.

splash barefoot in rain puddles....

This is so liberating. I feel like I’m one again.

and host small, intimate gatherings with close friends.

How’s that popsicle? Yummy right?! It's made with 100% real mango juice.

Yet sometimes life’s demands prove too much. And Ms. Thang finds that she simply doesn’t feel like smiling. Or being cute. Or performing on cue, like a show pony.

You really need to give up this whole ballet fantasy. I’m dead serious.

Occasionally, a girl just has one of 'dem days where she wants a moment to herself, away from the craziness and the constant, unrelenting glare of the snap-happy “mommy cam”.

--Here she comes again. Unbelievable. Its like she stalks me.
--I feel you, girl. Its hard to be this cute. People don’t know.

Yoga and meditation can often help, allowing her to cultivate a quite place within.

I hope that nice teacher noticed how cute my outfit is today.
C’mon girl, FOCUS! Namasteeeee.

Any relief, however, is short-lived. Seems there’s no escaping the mommy’s insatiable need for candid pics. Or Ms. Thang’s ever-growing Facebook fans appetite for them.

But every gal has her breaking point.

  OH C’MON woman, seriously?! I’m picking my nose!

When this fashion-forward tyke has reached her limit. She kicks off her tiny pink crocks, drops down on the floor, curls up into herself and goes into what the mommy calls “shut down mode”.

I’m done. I can’t anymore. I just. CAN’T.

And that’s where she’ll stay. There, on her grandma's cold linoleum floor, tuning out the world until everyone eventually loses interest and LEAVES HER THE HELL ALONE.  Because sometimes, even small fabulous divas, need some damn space.  

MAD SHADY: Miss Thang. Hello? Hey! (to the mommy) Is she o.k.?

THE MOMMY: Oh, she does that every now and then. Just leave her. She'll be fine. Let’s go watch some t.v.  in the other room. It's almost time for Glee!


Thank. God. Oh, and just so you know. I hate crocks. I think they’re stupid.

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