About three years ago we packed up the kids and drove North. One of my husband's cousins and his gorgeous bride had the most beautiful wedding in Napa. The ceremony was out in the vineyards, the bride and groom were swaddled in soft, warm light. It was a picturesque day and a day and a wedding where everything in the world seemed just right. Until . . . it . . . happened. My then, three-year-old daughter realized that some other cute little tart got the staring toddler role in this amazing production. This role, in her three-year-old mind, had somehow been stolen from her like a teddy bear ripped from her arms. She was pissed! It didn't matter that there were many toddler girls in the family that were vying for the Flower Girl role. It didn't matter that up until that day we hadn't even met the bride (or maybe just barely at the previous family wedding - not sure, I'd had a bit of wine). It didn't matter that there were several other little girls, all cut from the staring role themselves, who had gotten over it and were dancing the night away. What mattered right then was that some other little fancy-dressed, pearly-shoed, up-doed little chick was getting a lion's share of the attention, ooh's and ahhh's and she, my daughter, of three years, was not. Like I said . . . she was pissed.
The only way I could coax her back into a somewhat reasonable state was to tell her that there would be another wedding and surely she would be a Flower Girl at that one. Well, there was another wedding, and eeeek, somehow another starlet edged out my daughter. Then another wedding and another and each time my daughter, now six, wanted to know WHEN she would get the coveted FG role.
OK, so now that I'm doing more wedding photography and there are Flower Girl photos on my computer and issues of OC Bride and Ceremony magazine strewn about the house, we've come to a fork in the road. My daughter informed me that if she did not get the chance to play FG she was gonna walk. Alright, so she didn't put it exactly that way, but I knew I needed to act and act fast because there is nothing worse than the wounded ego of a six-year-old, princess-type, girl.
I consulted iCal and last weekend I booked a day for one of my most important pee-wee clients. We had already picked up the dress at Nordstrom and purchased matching big-girl shoes. We spent the morning at a real salon (Cool Cuts wouldn't do on a day like this). We got a mani and luckily I was able to convince her that a pedi was just not necessary in closed toed shoes (and it wasn't an easy sell). We skipped into the florist shop (with FG dress in plastic) so that we could match the colors of the roses petals perfectly. Then when all the preparations were complete, I packed my little diva and my camera bag in my car and off to the arboretum we went for a FG photo shoot. Needless to say when the part comes up again she'll have her head shots ready to go.
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