The trouble with the kids is, the cuteness, which is extreme, comes between the obnoxiousness. The obnoxiousness is a force equal and opposite the cuteness. This weekend I kept trying to snap shots of the cuteness for the blog but it was morphing back into Awful too quickly. I might as well just take pictures of both; who am I trying to fool, anyway?
Sarah, who is on the brink of 2, is really a tiny little manic-depressive. She will go from giggly and sweet (stretching with mommy after a workout and looking so very pleased with herself) to emitting screams that would shame Halloween's Jamie Lee Curtis, for no discernable reason. Like this morning at 4:00. Mostly, she is sweet, snuggly and adorable and I miss her when I'm not around her. Then, when I am around her I wonder why on earth I missed her so much. Ah, Toddlerhood.
Meanwhile Kate is busy contradicting every word I say. "You've got your shoes on the wrong feet", I tell her, "No I don't!" she insists. "I'm sorry, Kate, we're out of __________" I sadly state, going for empathetic. "No we're not! We're not out of ______!"
We rented Enchanted for Kate this weekend and she watched it over and over again. Jeremiah and I were talking about the scene in which the dad tells the fairy tale chick that his wife just up and left him and his daughter. "I can imagine you leaving me" Jeremiah said (really?) "but not the girls!" I agreed, but that's because at the moment the girls were sound asleep and the house was quiet and I'd had dinner and a nice glass of wine. I reflected upon that conversation the next day as I held Screaming Sarah and thought Aruba sounded nice. Then Sarah stopped screaming, hugged me tightly and giggled. Suckered in again.