Magic

Elise slept for 12 solid hours last night. 
Therefore, I must recreate the events leading up to this miracle of magnanimous proportions in order for it to happen again.

Dinner will commence promptly at 5:52 and end at 6:19. She will consume a large hunk of salmon, the tips of 12 asparagus (asparagi?), and 8 sweet potato fries. 

Bathtime will begin at 6:45 and shall be inclusive of hair washing. Shampoo will be followed by 3 big and 2 small dumps from the big yellow hair-rinsing bucket. 

She will wear the top to her ladybug pajamas and the bottoms to her giraffe pajamas. 

We will read Biscuit and the Lost Teddy Bear, The Bear Snores On, and Goodnight Moon. I will sing Jesus Loves Me and place her in the crib at 7:11pm. After 3 kisses, reciprocal Night-nights, and a nosey-nosey through the crib bars, I will depart the room. 

And if I do everything just exactly right, surely the magic will happen again. 

Berry picking outfit

This is so my daughter. Last Saturday morning I told the girls we were going strawberry picking. Elle immediately exclaimed, "I know exactly what I'm going to wear!" and rushed off to her room to get dressed. She emerged wearing this.

May 20, 2013

"This is my strawberry-picking outfit", she proclaimed. "Remember the last time we went and I wore this?"

Well, I can't say that I remembered as well as she did. But I dug out this picture from 2 years ago, almost to the date. She was right. Sometimes her little brain just freaks me out. 

May 21, 2011

But she's awfully cute. And my, how she's grown.

Pomp and circumstance

The day started off innocently enough. Well, except for the unprecedented twist of Elle allowing me to suggest an outfit for her that was both seasonally and size appropriate. And (gasp) she let me brush her hair. Ok, ok, there was no disguising it. It was a big day.

And big days demand family pictures before leaving the house.

And sibling love.

And a little Macarena. Or Romberg test if your mommy is a geeky doctor.

Turns out she's not ataxic, just practicing a move for the evening's performance.

Why all the pomp and circumstance?

Because this happened.

My baby graduated from preschool.

It was probably fortuitous that I was highly distracted during the ceremony by Wiggle McWigglyPants who initially agreed to remain still in the presence of cheerios then cackled at my naivete and proceeded to fling the entire bowl 17 rows in front of us. 

I managed not to bawl. I do not promise the same for the first day of kindergarten.

Before the program, there was a slide show with all the kids' pictures and each of them saying what they want to be when they grow up. Fireman, astronaut, singer, police officer, teacher, etc. Not my kid, who apparently wants to be a "princess artist ballerina superhero curtain opener ice-cream-store owner". Noble goals, my little graduate.

After the adorable singing, diploma receiving, and cap-and-gowned processing, there was a huge end-of-year party including food, pony rides, face painting, bounce houses, a petting zoo, and a train ride. 

Elise seemed perfectly happy with the snow-cone-substitute I packed for her. 

Preschool will continue through the summer, and Elle will do after school care at Oak Ridge Weekday School as well. But officially, my baby is a graduate. And whether I'm ready or not (most decidedly not), Kindergarten fast approaches.

I hate to tell you though Elle, but every graduation won't be accompanied by pony rides...

Happy preschool graduation, E! I am so very proud of you.