Keeping the smalls out of Captain Science’s hair whilst he had his piano lesson.
Tank took this picture of me. It’s a good picture and also illustrates the increasing bagginess of my clothes as I continue with the 30 Day Shred
Lightsabers and NERF guns
Who shot first? Han? Greedo? Nah, it was Babypie.
We celebrate a pagany-secular sort of Easter — bunny, eggs, Rebirth of Spring!
Also, pitchforks.
*Unless we need to go somewhere, apparently. Bedtime? Hell no! Let’s stay up until midnight. Need to go to the grocery store? snooooooore.
They’re actually size 13 knitting needles, but whatevs. Chopsticks is chopsticks.
Now just tell me this isn’t the cutest thing:
Of course, Rhubarb was there, too:
What could be more adorable than four teensy girls (ranging from two today to three next month) waiting oh-so-patiently for those delicious cupcakes?
I had to wrestle her new plastic shovel (a gift from Patchfire and PC) out of her hand in order for this picture to be taken, but here’s the mama and her birthday girl.
a) This isn’t posed. That’s just her face.
b) I didn’t buy that shirt for her; it was in a bag of hand-me-downs.
c) It’s kinda true.
My mother-in-law shipped us this box of treasure for Babypie’s second birthday party:
Contents: Pink fairy dresses, rainbow fairy wings, dark pink sparkly star wands for four two-year-old fairies (well, technically, the rest of the wings are coming in a second box, with pink tulle and other fairy goodies).
This little nibblet is turning two in a week and a day:
I’m pretty sure that isn’t possible.
I’ll be back to talking about homeschool soon, I promise, but for now, I have to wax a little nostalgic (and a little sad) that my little 9lb 4oz stawberry baby is now a giant 25lb almost-two-year-old who is already too tall for most of her new 2T t-shirts! *sniffle*
The Feminist Breeder is doing a wonderful series of posts called Letter to My Daughter (incidentally, also the title of the Maya Angelou book I read this month for my FBAM), where mothers write letters to their daughters as adults. What would you like to say to your daughter? What would you like her to know about you or your feelings for her when she is an adult? If you have something to say to your own daughter that you would like to share, you can find out how to participate here. You might have to “like” The Feminist Breeder to read the note.
I think it’s a wonderful idea. I’m looking forward to reading all the posts from all different kinds of mothers to their all different kinds of daughters. I have a letter my mother wrote to me when I was a girl, maybe late elementary school or early middle school, that I treasure. I think it’s fantastic that The Feminist Breeder is encouraging other mothers to write letters like that for their daughters and to share them!
And yes, the very first post in the series is from yours truly.
Babypie and Rhubarb are a team of Veterinary Princesses (or Princess Veterinarians), healing Rhubarb’s new stuffed otter and the kitten and puppy at Babypie’s new Critter Clinic. Dresses were discarded upon discovery of difficulty of pottying in taffeta and crinolines. They are Practical Princesses, as well.
Dress-up 2.0 today:
Yes, I am the Dairy Queen.
