Easter. One of us had our priorities straight.
The snow of satan:
Chocolate ice cream and the insecure spring.
We bounced on the bouncy castle:
Daddy making English toffee:
Indy eating toffee:
Finally, I like this picture Ayla snapped of me whilst I was unawares, because my hair looks brilliantly red:
Friday, April 10, 2009
Tonight I am headed to Palm Desert.
There are lots of old people there, and golf courses.
There are streets lined with country clubs, hidden behind twin rows of skinny towering palms, one after the other after the other.
Babe's is maybe the best place to eat in town and there's a pool in every yard.
It should be hot, but not too hot.(Not yet).
I am sad to be away from my girlie-kin goblin babes for Easter. Family, I know you will take good care of them, and take many pictures. I will try to call them on Easter.
I have a couple other blogs typed up but they will have to wait til after Easter.
Yesterday I was brushing Ayla's hair as she stared at herself in the mirror. She didn't want me to pin her bangs off her face. "Because I don't look like me," she moaned. She pulled her bangs down across her left eye and asked me to pin them there.
So I did. "Look at you," I said. "You're beautiful."
"No I'm not!" she said, tearily.
Oh no oh no oh no oh lord lord lord.
She is too young to be telling me that.
It made me pretty sad. I wrapped my arms around her from behind and rested my chin on her shoulder and told her how pretty she is. "Pretty" is a tricky concept for me. How do you assure your 4.5 year old that she's beautiful without placing too much emphasis on looks?
Disney doesn't help. Ayla wants bright red hair like Ariel. Long hair like Jasmine. Blonde hair like Cinderlla. She's too young to dislike her own looks. I watched Disney when I was young, and I don't ever remember feeling inadequate to those cartoon women-children.
But Ayla does. And it breaks my heart. I try to tell her princesses are brave and kind and rule their people justly and with love.
She doesn't buy it.