1m2aSandbox

Cora’s hit that adorable stage where
she talks extremely well and grasps complex ideas like pronouns or
the passage of time, but she still doesn’t always get
everything exactly right.


Last night the girls were dressed up in costume (there’s
something new) and dancing around (ditto) to their iPod music.
Costumes had taken some serious consideration, and Cora had, after
careful deliberation, chosen the Ariel costume. Well, the Ariel
costume is size 4-6x, so you can imagine it was a little big for
her.

Remember how I griped yesterday about not
being appreciated, and resentful that what I do never seems good
enough for the kids? Listen to this:


Maddie and I were running errands, and she saw some fallen crape
myrtle flowers on the ground. “I want to pick up some of
these flowers for Daddy!” she said, and scooped up the fallen
little buds. I acquiesced, and she gathered several more and put
them in her cupholder.

Yesterday morning I had a meeting at the
school where I teach, and the girls needed to come along and hang
out. I packed vigorously for the two-hour meeting, determined they
wouldn’t get bored and start interrupting the grownups. I had
two (2!) types of snacks, dress-up clothes so they could put on
their costumes and dance in the big studio, their iPod so they
could dance to their favorite music, ballet shoes, activity boxes,
and markers.


I was prepared.

It’s no secret to my friends that I
absolutely adore a good book. I spent my childhood seeking out
extra opportunities to sneak in a chapter or two of my current
read, dragging my books backstage or even in the wings during
rehearsals. On one memorable occasion, I even sneaked a copy of
Charlotte’s Web into the bathroom late at night and
sat on the toilet seat, reading until dawn, so desperate was I to
find out what happened. I remember a bewildered and exhausted
father knocking on the bathroom door in the wee hours, saying,
“Are you ok in there?”


And of course I wasn’t, because I had an inkling how the book
was about to end.

Ok, so here’s the types of naked we
do in this household:

So far, so good with the pacifier-free
zone, but not without trials and tribulations.


As I mentioned, we’d spent all of Monday preparing Cora for
the imminent pacifier removal, and she’d nod solemnly.
Tuesday morning, I took the pacifier from her when she woke and
said, “Time to put the pacifier away for good! No more
pacifier for my big girl!” and she agreed and went downstairs
for breakfast.


My brave girl went the entire day without asking for her
pacifier.

Yesterday was Cora’s last official
day on the pacifier.


Cue doomsday music.