My girls.

Yesterday, my two oldest kids requested powdered mini-donuts for breakfast on New Year's Day.

I thought, "That sounds easy. So, yes."

This morning, bright and early, Thing 1 came bounding in to our bedroom and declared "It's the great day!!!!!!" I can only hope that the same tone of "glory-be" applied to donuts for breakfast will be as evident on her own wedding day.

I got up as Thing 1 and Thing 2 danced around me in raptures and went to get the Munchkin out of her crib. She looked up at me, with her sweet eyes, and asked me if I "sleep good?" Scooping up my snuggly, bed-head baby girl, I asked her if she wanted a donut for breakfast.

She threw back her head and wailed "NOOOOOOOO! I WANT BANANA! I WANT GWAPE-FWUIT!"

And she wasn't even kidding.

This year, I wanna be more like my girls.

Vogue.

So this probably won't come as any surprise to you, my friends, but here's a confession: I am to fashion what thong unitards are to sunburn--not a pretty sight.

I'm being serious. My fashion sense is so out of whack that I'm holding on to my denim jumpers and overalls, just waiting for them to come back "in." Aaaaany minute now...

(Eeeek! Butterflies! C-ute!)

I blame this on the fact that I was fat in high school. Don't get me wrong--there are advantages to being fat in high school. Mostly the fact that if I were ever to go to a high school reunion (snort) people would be able to say "You haven't changed a bit!" even after 3 kids. Not many people can pull that off. But seriously, what do you expect when you go shopping for your Harvest Ball date in the PRETTY PLUS women's section at JC Penney? Your sense of what's "in" tends to get a little skewed.

Thankfully, I have my daughters to help me, and both of them have better fashion sense then I do. At 5 years and 18 months old, respectively.

I'm not the least bit kidding.

When I need to buy a pair of shoes, I go to Marshalls with Thing 1. Plunking myself down in the middle of the shoe department, I tell her to get me a size 9 and set her free. She brings me back boxes and boxes of shoes, which I try on. Then she tells me which ones to get. Then people proceed to tell me how cute my shoes are. If I stray from this procedure and try to choose my own shoes then I get comments that are more along the lines of "Oh wow! I haven't seen shoes like that since..."

What? Chunky shoes with square toes aren't in anymore???

And just this Sunday the Munchkin came toddling up to me carrying a dress and the matching pantaloons. "How cute!" I thought, and put them on her. Then I reached for the closest pair of her shoes to put them on her. She cocked one eyebrow at me and toddled back into her room, bringing back a shoe that actually matched her outfit. "Oh." I said, placing the shoe on her foot, and feeling a little foolish.

I went to find the other one and when I returned, she had wandered into the bathroom, climbed up on the toilet, and retrieved a matching butterfly hair clip and brush.

"Wow! I didn't even know we still had those!" I muttered.
I swear I saw her roll her eyes.

It's going to be a long twenty years at my house.
Maybe by then, my overalls will be back in style...

Modesty.

You know, something struck me as funny this morning.

I have bought my daughter two Barbies in her 5 years of life. Each time, I was obsessed with finding modest Barbies that had actual clothing. With sleeves. I'm trying hard to impress upon her the importance of dressing modestly, and that modesty is beautiful.

This morning as I watched her playing with them, I was wondering why I bothered. They always end up naked anyway.

Happy Sabbath.