so sister is three now. it happened last month. both her mother and myself are in denial.
like swimming in da river of de nial. not believing it.
she can swing now in a big girl swing with no help and as long as the constant hum of my voice in the "up down up down up down" to remind her how to pump her legs, she can almost swing independently.
she's mastered the art of living in nashville:
skinny jeans and cowboy boots. throw in a little gingham.
"hey girl, are you from nashvilleeee, tennessee???"
rinsing her hair? that is so 2012. she's mastered that too with the constant reminder of "my do it." i don't correct her, just because well, it reminds me of when she was two.
and she's finally contacted ashton for her own three year old punk'd. everytime i squat to take her picture
no. matter. what.
she is doing...she sees me go down and there she goes too.
i can't tell you how many more of this same shot we have in her third year. and it's only been two weeks.
jumping in puddles before ballet. whatever. we've go that too.
on her big day, she had a princess party and wore her tiara
just the other day we were in tj maxx and after non stop talking by said subject. i looked at her and said,
"lil bit? can you be quiet just for a little while or use your quiet voice?" she looked and me offended and said as it progressively got louder,
"why caca" doesn't everyone want to hear MY BIG GIRL VOICE?"
i just kept the cart rolling along with my eyes as i looked away and didn't say a word.
as big as she is and as big as she thinks she is...she is still little.
little enough to cry for no reason at all.
little enough to want to wear house shoes to school and think it's okay.
and little enough to look me dead in the eye several times a day and say, "caca, i love you."
and i am big enough to grab that three year old girl right were she is and say,
"you know what lil bit? i love you too."