Hey mom, loving this new toy. Loving these new blue jeans!
Psst. Psst. Those were both mine. Girl jeans. Girl toys.
Mom. Um. What?
Sigh.
Category Archives: Daily life
Vacation.
Vacation is….
Flying on a plane.
….then doing something called “relaxing,” which doesn’t seem all that different from my normal life.
Except that occasionally you wear a funny costume…
…and float around in a giant bathtub.
Hmm. Okay. Don’t totally get it.
Mom and dad sure do love the whole vacation thing.
As long as they are happy.
Picnic.
There is this thing called a picnic.
It can happen outside.
It can happen inside, too.
But basically, wherever it happens, it consists of laying flat on your back on a blanket watching your big sister eat food you aren’t allowed to eat.
At least inside picnics don’t have the problem of blinding sunshine.
Yeah, not sure I understand the appeal of the whole picnic thing.
Pink.
Real men wear pink they say.
Or maybe real men just have an older sister, frugal parents and pink hand me downs.
In other news, I went to the doctor this week and got painful owies in my legs. Mom teared up and big sister was horrified, but apparently it’s pretty important to endure getting these “shots.”
oh, and the doctor said I am taller than 97% of other two month olds, and heavier than 74% of them. Hm. What’s wrong with the rest of those babies? Don’t they like to eat?
Maybe they should wear more pink.
Special power.
I have a special power. I can melt any heart. All I have to do is make this face.
Watch out world.
Selfie.
I haven’t quite figured out how to take my own “selfies.” So mom has to help me.
Does that technically make it a “mommie”?
Pacifist.
I am a bit of a pacifist, starting from my earliest days.
Sometimes my pacifism gets dropped, but I am fortunate enough to have someone older and wiser guide me back to my pacifist ways.
I know she was once a pacifist, but she also probably just doesn’t like to hear me complain.
I won’t fight her help.
Sigh.
I fell asleep the other day and had the weirdest dream. Then I woke up and realized it wasn’t a dream.
Sigh. Someday I will be able to defend myself.
Merry Christmas
Christmas is about a baby. I’m a baby. So there’s that. That’s probably where the similarities end, but it sure is nice to know He was once small and helpless like I am right now.
Merry Christmas!!
Illusion.
You may think my life is all cuddles and fireplaces.
But here is the rest of the story:
A twizzle dog, a big sister, a movie played yet again, and toys dangerously shoved in my face.
I try to not let that all get in the way of my beauty sleep, though.