For Lack of a Witty Title...

There are moments when I look at Mira and have to catch my breath because of the little girl she is becoming right before my eyes. I am so caught between longing to relive those "baby" moments and anticipating what is to come. Each day, it seems, she honors me with flashes of both the baby and the big girl inside of her. She will wrap herself in my arms and asked to be rocked and then tell me to bend down so she can hug and kiss me "dye-dye" (her current "bye-bye") and say "lu-you".

My Baby

My Big Girl

(incidentally, telling me to put the camera away already)

Mira, like most kids, I'm sure, goes through phases with her books. When she finds one she likes, she wants to read it every day -- often several times a day. Eventually she moves on to a new love. It seems like forever ago now, but we used to read Goodnight Moon every night (the Language Arts teacher in me is highly bothered by my inability to underline that title). One recent evening, we were sitting down for bedtime stories, and Mira was picking out her usual mountain of books. She stumbled upon Goodnight Moon and excitedly waved it over her head, yelling, "Noon! Noon!" (her current version of "moon"). The reader in me was ecstatic that she recognized the book, and I decided to see if she knew what it was about. I said, "Mira, what is this book about?" She pursed her lips and literally shrugged her shoulders (a move I'd never seen from her before - or since). I said, "Is this book about . . . cows?" (thinking this was a random, incorrect answer). She got very excited and instantly said, "yeah, mama". When I said no, that Goodnight Moon was not about cows, she quickly pointed to the picture of the cow jumping over the moon, saying, "cow, mama!"

Yesterday we took Mira for her first haircut. With the awareness that I am raising one of the most dramatic children ever to have graced the Earth, I insisted that Ryan go with us. Alas, there was not a morsel of drama. Not a single whimper of fear. Not a lone tear. I have to admit that I feel a little silly for expecting such a fuss, but I also feel compelled to tell you that all of her pent up drama was unleashed as soon as we entered Target after her haircut. Anyway, she was sufficiently distracted from her hair cut by a sea of Dum-Dums, the movie playing directly in front of her face, and more bottles of bubbles than should be legal. The only flash of drama witnessed at the hair salon occurred when I tried to remove her from the "party room". Somehow I know we'll eventually return to this room. It had full length mirrors wrapped in feather boas, little wands topped with glittery stars, racks of dress-up clothes, and pictures of little girls all around. She was in heaven. Long story short, I'm not convinced they actually cut the girl's hair. Sure, I've got a morsel of hair in an envelope, and I have pictures of someone combing my child's hair, but I was awfully distracted by the handing out of Dum-Dums and bubbles and all. When we returned home, I wielded my own scissors and just lopped off the offending unevenness of Mira's tresses. It's horrible and potentially even more uneven now, but I'm hopefull that a bath will somehow rectify all of that. Just act like it worked when you see us.