I asked Milly to take the Boy and the Girl today so that I can get caught up on some much needed work, like laundry, (I need to walk to the laundromat to get it done) and sorting through closets and getting rid of stuff we don't need, or don't have room for in this crowded little space.
I think I'm going to get rid of all of the Girl's pants and shirts. It's been two weeks since she's worn anything but a dress, except yesterday when she wore pants under a dress because it was too short to wear on it's own. The week she was born I got over my hatred of the color pink, which is a good thing because she naturally gravitates toward it with no encouragement from me. It's actually fascinating to watch her choose colors that she thinks are pretty and then realize that those are the best colors for her skin tone.
How did she become such a girly girl? I have no idea except that she was born that way. Just as the Boy was born loud and fast and aggressive. I say pooh to anyone who still asserts that there is no inherent gender difference and that we nurture them to be boys or girls.
Now I'm switching subjects, because I have nothing else to say about that. I'm thinking about making it so that you have to login to see a comment. Not because I get spam because I haven't yet, but so I can respond to some of your comments by e-mail. Over this past year I have been left some amazing, touching, heart breaking even comments in my inbox and can't do anything about it because it's from noreplycommentblogger. And since I have grown to love you guys so much, I thought I'd like to respond every so often. Yes I could do it here, but you may not come back to read them later, and well, I suck at that.
I've been trying to write this post all week and I keep losing momentum and forgetting what I wanted to say. It's been busy, I've been rearranging furniture and sorting through closets in order to make room for furniture and pictures from Uncle Gordon's estate. For a while it felt pretty crowded and tiny in here, more than usual. I've been feeling homesick for Canada all week. The top of San Jacinto, where we scattered his ashes, totally without permission of course, is alpine forest. It's amazing in the space of a 5-10 minute trolley ride to go from desert floor to cool sunny forest breezes. It felt like summer in the country of my childhood, and it felt so lovely. My SIL and BIL are traveling to Canada next week to spend the summer there working for a family friend in her super cool coffee shop and gift shop that serves that yachters in the Salt Spring Islands. You can only get there by boat. I wish I could go with them. I can't decide if this sudden fondness for Canada is because I can't go, and it's human nature to want what we can't have, or if I just miss it. Probably both. I don't like being the one to sit and watch everyone else go all the time.
My MIL called me this morning to tell me about her new bra. "It makes me look like a girl again." she gushed, you have to go and try one on. So of course I'm going to because nursing boobs are well, too large and pendulous for my preference, and because this bra is called "the minimizer".
Scene from a play date this week. The Boy and his friend are beating on each other with pillows and wrestling and punching and having an all round boisterous good time. The girl rushes out of the bedroom, where I've helped her change into a dry dress after she got the other one wet, and jumps on top of the pile of boys and pillows exclaiming, "THE PRINCESS IS HERE!"