This smile

My pretty baby, originally uploaded by MrsBinParis.

makes those two days of no naps and Clingy McClingsalot totally worth it.

Mom cliché: I cut off all my hair.

And I LUUUUURRRRVVVEE it.

Pink=Girl. DUH.

Day One:

Pink flowered summer one-piece outfit, with ruffles.
Pink socks.
Pink flowered shoes.
Pink pacifier with pink floral ribbon clip.
Denim bib. (I guess this is my mistake.)

"What's your brother's name?"

Day Two:

Black, white, TWO shades of pink and red flowered top with a bow.
Light and dark pink striped pants.
Two-toned pink socks.
Pink pacifier with pink floral ribbon clip.
Pink mary-jane shoes WITH pink flowers.

"This little fellow is really wide awake!"

ARGH.

If it happens again, I think I'm going to have to write, "I may not have hair*, but I have a vagina!" on her head. In Sharpie. PINK Sharpie. With glitter.





*Her sister also didn't have hair at this age. In fact, she didn't have hair until she was at least a year. She's now three, and it hasn't even hit her shoulders yet. I'm working with what I'm given, people. Give me a break!


Hilarious photo by gregoirevdb on flickr. Thank you!!!

My love, my love

My love, my love, originally uploaded by MrsBinParis.

Preschool!

First day of preschool at the JCC, originally uploaded by MrsBinParis.

Today was Rowan's first day. I went up to wake her up after another night in the igloo, and though she was groggy and confused, she hurried to get ready and ate her breakfast without dawdling. The first day of school was too exciting to wait. We brought her in, and she immediately began walking one of the school babies around the room in the shopping cart. We begged for a kiss and hug goodbye as we tucked her things in her cubby. She squeezed me around the neck, but her eyes were already searching for the next new toy to play with. She was ready for school.

I dropped her dad at work and headed to Target and Wegman's. Nursing Anya in the parking lot without a toddler climbing over the seats was peaceful. At Target, I was able to browse and no one raided my purse for snacks 8 times. At Wegman's, I actually got everything we needed and nobody sat on the bread. I thought I was golden, but somehow got in the lane of the slowest, most talkative (though quiet so you couldn't hear her anyway) and worst packing grocery checker in the history of the world. After reshuffling everything in the car, I zoomed back downtown to pick her up, only 4 minutes late.

She seemed glad to see me, but wouldn't have been upset had I not shown up until 3. She was in her element, eating crackers with her new buddy Sophie, a girl who's "nice and she has a pink dress like I like". On the way home, though, she decided to reassert herself, and announced that the fruit pops in the trunk that we were racing home to get in the freezer before they melted would be her dessert after lunch. "No, they're for snack after naps," I said. A tantrum ensued, and she cried for a good 45 minutes before finally accepting that Mom was not going to give up. She ate her lunch, played for a few minutes, and then threw a feeble protest before being hauled halfway up the stairs for naps. At that point, she agreed to walk herself, and climbed up and into her bed. We argued again about the curtains, and soon she was calling me back, begging for a hug. We had a talk, hugged and she climbed back up to nap for real this time.

During her nap, I went to load the photos from my camera of Rowan and her new teachers, and I found my punishment. She'd chewed the end of the cord that hooks the camera to the computer, beyond repair.

But this time, the talk must have worked. When confronted, she immediately apologized.

And then, she got her fruit pop.