Here she is with the finished product; can you tell she's proud...
It is so thick with material (I made it similar to a tree skirt pattern) that it's almost difficult for her to twirl. She doesn't seem to mind though. It has princesses on it, it's long enough and it TWIRLS!
She put it on today, gently rubbed her hands over the sateen fabric down her thighs, sighed and said, "I look like a mommy." I'm so taking that as a compliment. She wore it, her plastic princess shoes and carried her magic wand into Subway tonight. I told you we were going to do it again.
So back to yesterday, here they are making daddy's cupcakes...
Someone licking the bowl again...
And little man enjoying his first bite of a cupcake...
Daddy wanted to go out to eat for his birthday and on the way there he was trying to ask little lady what she did that day. After a couple of unsuccessful attempts she said to him, "Daddy, please be quiet, I need to concentrate." Yes she has heard that a time or two. I am not gifted in the ability to tune out undesirable noises.
She's also figured out that if she wants to get our attention while riding in the car, all she has to do is declare, "I gotta go pee-pee REALLY bad." We've caught on to it, but there's always that little nagging voice that will chant, "She told you so, she told you so" if there ever was an accident. Although, most of the time, it's nowhere near as urgent as she makes it sound to be. We know this after many trips speeding home through residential neighborhoods, squealing into the driveway on two tires, screeching to a halt leaving tire marks, opening the car door before it stops while the other one is frantically trying to open the door to the house, to find out that she seems to be more interested in a worm that has dried up and died on the pavement. So when she made the announcement on the way home from the restaurant, we did not panic, we just calmly assured her that we were almost home and she could hold it. Her rebuttal: "Well then, I just wanna go pee-pee in somebody's yard." Daddy asked who's yard and she said, "Anybody we know."
So today, as I was cleaning up the kitchen from breakfast, I found myself seriously jamming out to Diego's rescue pack song. (Diego is Dora the Explorer's cousin; Nickelodeon cartoons). And to clarify what my "jamming out" means; it involves shaking my rear, bobbing my head and adding in an air guitar or air drum to finish off singing into the spoon I'm pretending is a microphone. Just in case you haven't heard it, check out the first 40 seconds of this grainy, bad video on youtube.
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=UdTvizTOGCs
It's kind of catchy, but seriously, is this what I've been transformed into? I'll admit that I'm not "cool" anymore (see, kids don't even use the word "cool" do they?) but this is really putting a damper on any semi-successful attempts I might have in the future to maintain my "coolness."
Oh well, it was bound to happen I guess.
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