I have decided to attempt to participate in NaBloPoMo... we'll see if I can do it. I'm already behind, as I didn't post on the 1st, but hey! Two in a row! Go, MEEEE! I woke this morning at 7am, which is remarkable, as my daughter's eyes generally function like those pop-up timers in turkeys-- at 6am, her eyelids pop open and she's ready to party. I, however, am markedly un-ready to party at 6am. As are most humans. So, I blearily turn on the TV (thanks, 24-hour NickJr!) and roll over to snooze to the sounds of 'Ni Hao, Kai Lan'. Which can make for some kooky dreams. Anyway. This morning, she decided to give her mama a break, and I awoke when I became aware that the sun was up, and Nan wasn't. Then, I did a little happy dance in my head and went back to sleep. I love the days where we don't have to be anywhere at any particular time, and I am becoming aware that these days are numbered. Next year, she'll be at preschool four days a week, and then-- kindergarten! Where she has to be up, fed, dressed, and ready to roll EVERY DAY of the week, which means I have to be up, dressed, and relatively ready EVERY DAY of the week. Yikes. I know I've got some time before this is the new normal-- like, almost two years-- but! But! It's something I haven't had to consider since she was an infant, and I was working outside of the house. The panicky feeling it instills is interesting, and unpleasant. Apparently my own brand of control-freakiness extends to being master of when I leave the house. Time to deal with that later.
Nan is going through the most delightful dress-up phase. I've had each meal with a different creature lately-- the last two days, it's been a unicorn. Later today, it could be a princess. Or a cowgirl. Or a police officer. Is it bad that I'm considering making another visit to Target to see what's left of the clearance costumes? My sister and I loved to pretend, and dress up, and if we'd had the costume trunk Nan has? Oh, my. Our tiny minds would've exploded.
Nan is pretending to be Mommy now-- Mommy dressed as a unicorn, but Mommy all the same-- and she keeps calling me "Hons", which, in my mind, sounds like "Huns", as in Atilla the, so I have a little giggle every time she addresses me. And now it's time for Nanny Mom and her Hons (or Huns) to go grocery shopping.