Ooh La La!

The other day, Marley declared that girls, by nature, must pamper themselves. She learned this from Fancy Nancy, her new heroine of preference. Santa brought Marley a Fancy Nancy doll for Christmas, complete with a pair of oversized pink plastic heels, and I gave Marley several Fancy Nancy books. I embrace this new obsession, and here are the two major reasons why:

1. Fancy Nancy is a little girl who likes to dress up and be elegant and ridiculous. She is not Barbie, a impossibly-proportioned woman who wears silver platform heels with her nurse's scrubs. I hate to judge a lady by her footwear, and Lord knows I'm in no position to judge in the first place, but maybe her inappropriate choice of shoe reveals something, for starters, about her dedication to the job?

2. Fancy Nancy provides vocabulary lessons in disguise! She's forever going on about words that are fancier versions of others, like dilemma for problem and excluded for left out. The English teacher in me is all over this. The other day, I was doing a crossword and read a clue for a five-letter word: "feather." I know I would've gotten plume without too much trouble, but because I had read about Fancy Nancy's plume on the end of her pen earlier that day, it came to me right away.

A few weeks ago, inspired by a Fancy Nancy book about a homemade spa day, Bean invited her cousins over for a day of pampering. She had earned a spa kit after completing a five-item checklist of things like "Share with Rudy without being asked," and it included recipes and containers for lip balm, bath fizz, and a sugary hand scrub.

Riley, Owen, and Emma brought jammers with them to be more comfortable, I found a spa-sort-of radio station online, and these kids six and under relaxed in their seats for a full three minutes before running off to play and scream in the other room while I made ineffective shushing noises and reminded them that Rudy was upstairs napping. In between the screaming and foot-soaking, we concocted spa treats for everyone to take home.

The party ended shortly after the avocado mask, complete with cucumber slices over the eyes. I made the mistake of smearing a clump of avocado up Beanie's nose while spreading the mask on her tiny face, but she rallied quickly and settled into her spa experience with intensity and a determination to relax and be pampered. I, as usual, admire her unapologetic femininity. And her fanciness.