I sat down the other day to do some browsing on my laptop. I slipped into our formal living room, a place that is rarely (read ever) used. I figured that the room was so obscure and unknown to our children that they would never find me in there. I sat down for two seconds and was startled by the sound of heavy breathing. Now, I know this will seem silly to you, but remember I am in a room that is never used, and from every vantage point is completely empty save for myself. And yet, there is distinctively heavy breathing. I thought it was a rat. Haha, you say. No, seriously, my mind is so warped that it tricked me into believing there was a mongo sized rat in my house, breathing so loudly that I could actually hear him! My heart leaped into my throat, and then my brain took over. The smart side of my brain. It was Esther. Curled up between the couch and end table, smushed between the two in what had to have been the most uncomfortable sleeping position ever. He little face was crammed against the wooden sofa leg, and she was sound asleep.
She is my smile. Every day. Even when she wakes up and refuses my help getting dressed. Even when she decides to look like a ragamuffin and make me look like the worst parent on earth. Sometimes I want to put a sign around her neck that says, "She dressed herself". But, I have to admit- I kind of like her style. OKay, I REALLY like her style. It is fun and fantastic and I wish I were as brave as she is, facing the world in a chaos of stripes and flowers, and hot pink holey tights. At the same time- I am hardly even brave enough to go out with her in public.
Would someone like to make some guesses what this style will translate into when she is 15???
I sat down the other day to do some browsing on my laptop. I slipped into our formal living room, a place that is rarely (read ever) used. I figured that the room was so obscure and unknown to our children that they would never find me in there. I sat down for two seconds and was startled by the sound of heavy breathing. Now, I know this will seem silly to you, but remember I am in a room that is never used, and from every vantage point is completely empty save for myself. And yet, there is distinctively heavy breathing. I thought it was a rat. Haha, you say. No, seriously, my mind is so warped that it tricked me into believing there was a mongo sized rat in my house, breathing so loudly that I could actually hear him! My heart leaped into my throat, and then my brain took over. The smart side of my brain. It was Esther. Curled up between the couch and end table, smushed between the two in what had to have been the most uncomfortable sleeping position ever. He little face was crammed against the wooden sofa leg, and she was sound asleep.
She is my smile. Every day. Even when she wakes up and refuses my help getting dressed. Even when she decides to look like a ragamuffin and make me look like the worst parent on earth. Sometimes I want to put a sign around her neck that says, "She dressed herself". But, I have to admit- I kind of like her style. OKay, I REALLY like her style. It is fun and fantastic and I wish I were as brave as she is, facing the world in a chaos of stripes and flowers, and hot pink holey tights. At the same time- I am hardly even brave enough to go out with her in public.
Would someone like to make some guesses what this style will translate into when she is 15???
7 comments:
oh I think you have a future Cyndi Lauper on your hands. Lol. My kids go out in the craziest things. One Sunday Miles wore his Jack Sparrow bandanna to church - complete with faux dreadlocks. But I as long as they are clean and their nakedness covered I am just going to enjoy their free spirits!
Mom has several stories of the kids falling alseep in random places. One time we were looking everywhere even outside for Ryan and he was asleep under the cutains! Has your mom talked to you about a visit?
She is nothing short of precious!!
Hey Becka, if you get a chance could you email either me or my mom your address, then I can mapquest it :)
If I remember right this little girl's mother tried to make a fashion statement when she was growing up.No shoelaces before it was popular. Hated wearing slips. Before Madonna.
Match Maker, Match Maker you can sing a song. You did real good this time.
Hey- where have you been? We miss you.
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