Pool Party

How about that bow??

The Girl Stuff Begins

Ok... that's kind of not true... she sees me apply powder, lipstick, eyeshadow... watches me brush my hair, put on heels... and she's tried it all - already. I don't know why I thought it wouldn't happen till she was 12.

The shoe obsession is just hilarious. I think, though, rather than being about being a "girl," the challenge of walking in my heels is as worthy of her efforts as climbing stairs and rock walls and all the other physical feats this toddler tries to attempt, to test and try her brand-new limbs and newfound agility.

My Aunt Kiki Loves Me

We should all be so lucky to have an Aunt Kiki, like Josephine does.

I know I am lucky for having my best friend Katy, who is the sister I never had - genetically.

Katy/Kiki made this shirt for Josephine, who loves it. Katy is Josephine's godmother, and obviously, a darn good one.

I mean, we all need a shirt like this, don't we?

Maybe Katy will take orders...

Free Style

I can see both sides of the argument.

The one side says, Oh horrors, don't let the child paint her feet (and the world, let's face it) with markers!

The other side says, Let them be creative - use washable markers and all is well.

The problem with Side #1, at least for my life, is that I hate crayons. I know, it's weird, but the paper around a crayon gives me the heebie-jeebies. I hate it. I don't like the way crayons draw, either. They're feeble instruments. I much prefer markers. So if I'm going to spend time scribbling with my child, which I do, we're going to use markers.

You could still say, Fine, but watch her, keep her from marking anywhere but the paper. That's all well and good, except that I get kind of involved in my scribbling... I concentrate, and when I concentrate, I am not paying attention to the baby, and it only takes a moment of that and she's gone Pollack all over her legs... In other words, while I agree with Side #1, it just ain't happening.

The problem with Side #2?: They SAY they're washable - but they are not washable. I mean, I guess you can wash the walls, the tambourine, the doors, the bathtub all you like -- but the stuff isn't coming off. So far. So you might argue that you're encouraging artistic expression, when what you're really doing is setting your child up to be a tattooed vandal spraypainting freeway overpasses with the same unintelligible words they were using as toddlers.

Those of you appalled at my daughter bound for Hippiedom due to my lack of parental control need not fear. Josephine already has manners (Please and Thank you), and we are setting boundaries and sticking to them. They just don't happen to be this one. Yet.

I'm off to scrub the tambourine.

Normal Life

Fresh fruit in the basket... a flower in the jar, picked on our walk... happy child... lovely pesto and red pepper dinner cooked by my husband... Normal Life? Abnormal life? Whichever. It's peaceful, and lovely, and I feel blessed.

Toilet Training

Baby Yoga

I've told some of you about how she imitates my yoga moves... here's one of them!

Pool Time

She has a carrot in her mouth - can you tell? She's such a little squirrel!

No Pictures, Please...

No, I don't have a photograph - but you don't want one - but here's announcing that Josie used her potty for the first time* last night! Very exciting. Now we have to hurry up and read what we're supposed to do now...

She started her new preschool today - Mighty Hands, Mighty Minds. She'll be exposed to Spanish. This week they're learning the color yellow.

This morning woke up and asked her daddy if "Chawlie outside?" Meaning Sean's parents' dog, Charlie, whom she loves sooo much and who stayed with us Saturday night.

Sentences!

*She may have used it at daycare last week.