Well, I was very neglectful of our journal in July - only 1 entry! That is terrible! I do have an excuse, and yes, I know that making excuses is bad, but let me explain.
July = Summer.
There, that's it in a nutshell. I could go and try to explain all of the things we've done this month, and I might still do that, but for right now, I kind of want to move on. Thinking about it all just makes my head swim a little. Let's just sum it up with the word BUSY. We packed a whole lot of summer into a short time this year, starting at the end of June when we had Cub Scout day camp, Vacation Bible School, two baseball games, and a dance class all in the same week. I guess that should have been some kind of warning sign, because we didn't slow down after that until this week, when Andrew went back to school.
This year, Andrew is in the third grade. Wow, do I feel old. I think it was just yesterday I was wondering when this little screaming infant was going to ever learn how to walk and talk, and now, well, now I can't get him to stop running and yelling. This year, he only gets one recess and has Social Studies. I think next year he grows a beard.
And then there's Abby. Princess Abigail. Last Sunday Daddy and Andrew went to the Brickyard race and I thought it would be a great idea to have a Girls' Day Out. The original plan was for the Children's Museum, but that had to be scrapped when Mommy's lasagna-making took a little longer than planned. Abby was more than a little upset about the change in plans (she gets that from me - change is bad). I got a little desperate and then I came up with this ~great~ idea. So, we called up My Jody (formerly Fairy Godmother Jody) and My Alyssa and invited them to Libby Lu's with us. And oh. My. Goodness. WHAT have I done??
She looks about thirteen in this picture, don't you think? Well, okay, maybe not. Thirteen-year-olds don't smile. I remember when I was one. Abby had a BLAST at Libby Lu's. That's her personal sparkly lotion she's holding in the picture. On her back is her Libby Lu pack with all of her stuff - lip gloss, bracelets, the makeup they used on her, and the lip gloss that she got to make HERSELF. While she was getting hair and nails done (at the same time!), she had this look on her face that made me a little fearful for all retail clerks and beauticians in her future. It was a look of serious concentration and study. A look that said, 'I'm watching you, and your work had better live up to my extremely high standards, or there will. be. consequences.' And trust me, I've lived through those consequences. All I can say is that the sweet smile in the picture masks a fury I liken to a caged wild animal. And that might be understating it a bit.
It seems this week has been full of little moments when it is suddenly clear to me that my little girl will not be little for much longer. At daycare, they are talking about moving her to the Fours class, even though she won't technically be four until January. They say she can already do the things all the four-year-olds can do as far as counting and writing and colors and numbers and whatever else they are supposed to be able to do at four. So she's a little SuperStar-in-training. That's all fine. But she's not a Four! She's a cute little Three! She can just stay a Three for a little longer. She might be ready to be a Four, but I'm not ready for her to be.
And just to kick me when I'm down, this morning, she stopped wearing nundies. With no pretense, no warning, no discussion. I pulled out her cute flower nundies and when I told her it was time to put on her nundies, she refused. She stopped me and said, in a tone eerily like a teenager explaining that the cool kids don't say 'Bitchin' anymore, "No, Mom, that's my underwear." I tried to argue for nundies a little, but she wouldn't give in. Nundies are dead to her. It's underwear now. Where has my little girl gone? I blame the Barbies.
Hanging onto your childhood by my fingernails,