Thank Goodness for Little Girls

Thank goodness we didn't stop at two kids.  Reagan is my little kindred spirit.  It's the day after Thanksgiving, and I am itching to decorate for Christmas.  Quinn complained loudly that it's "only the day after Thanksgiving!  Why the rush?  It's too soon!'.  Colby just plain ran away.  Reagan, on the other hand, was jumping around, saying "I'm so essited!  I'm so essited!" 

I forced the boys under threat of grounding to help me bring up the Christmas decorations. They complained loudly the entire time and had to frequently be re-rounded up again to finish the job.   Reagan, though, was begging me to let her help.  "Now what, Mom?  Can I bring up more?  Now what?"

The boys disappeared somewhere out of eyeshot, while Reagan and I decorated the downstairs tree.    She oohed and aahed over every ornament, reminisced about when she made this one, tried to remember who had made that one.  And when it was time, I hoisted her up, and she put the angel on the very tip top.  Later that night, as the whole family watched "The Grinch Who Stole Christmas", Reagan pointed to the tree which was the only light in the room, and exclaimed  "Look Mom!  It's so beautiful!!"

Thank goodness there's a little girl who appreciates the beauty and magic of this season like her mother does!!

It's a two lollipop kind of day.

Forgive us,our dentist!

Me, too

"Mom, I had a dream I was swimming in laundry!"

Me, too, little girl.  Except mine is more of a nightmare.

The New Umbrella

Reagan had earned some moola from the Chassell Lion's Halloween Party for winning first prize in the costume contest.  It's been burning the proverbial hole in her pocket ever since.  She bought a book about a pony (big surprise), and then, after MUCH deliberation, decided to spend the remainder on a pink umbrella with Disney princesses on it.  She has slept with the thing and had it in her hot little hand since Sunday.  She wanted to take it to school yesterday, but mean mommy intervened.  It might not survive until the first rainstorm at this rate.  She is currently lying next to me in bed, with the umbrella open and protecting her head from the indoor weather.  She is about to take a shower, and... you guessed it... Reagan wants to take it in.

"It's meant for rain, Mom.  It can protect me from the water!"

The whole point of a shower is to get wet, child.  I don't want it to protect you from getting clean. 

Simple joys.

Overheard

Reagan, to Fergie, who was whimpering to go outside to pee.

Reagan: "NO!  You are not going outside.  They will KILL YOU! Do you hear me, Fergie?  They will KILL YOU!  You aren't going to get hurt.  I will chain you up."

Apparently, the lesson about outdoor safety during hunting season sunk in a little too well. 

Reagan was crying as she came in from outside.

Mom: What's wrong?
Reagan: The bird won't play with me!
Mom: A real bird?
Reagan: Yes!  It won't play with me!
Mom: You're not Snow White.
Reagan: What?
Mom: You're not Snow White.
Reagan:  WHAT?
Mom:  Birds don't play with little girls.
Reagan: But I'm not little!
Mom: Birds don't play with big girls either. 
Reagan:  No one wants to play with me.

BOO hoo.

Stats

For the record books, these are Reagan's official stats, as determined at her 5 year well-child visit:

Weight: 34 pounds (11th%)
Height: 42 inches (39th%)
BMI: 13.6 (5th%)

She's got 20/25 vision - but I don't think she was giving her best effort - and is otherwise healthy, wealthy and wise.   The nasal flu shot got a little ugly near the end of the visit, but nothing a mom really skilled at restraining children and a quick-handed nurse couldn't handle. 

Portrait of a Five Year Old Cowgirl Princess