My sister and her twee,smooshy little baby girl are here for a pre-move, scope-out-the-land visit. Her baby (whom I have no idea what to nickname, so I'll use her real name. LIVING ON THE EDGE HERE!) Shiloh is three months old. Ariel (and now how badly do I want to grace you all with HER real name, which is way better than Ariel. But I won't.)was six months old yesterday. I swear to God, though, she was never THAT teeny tiny and floppy. The minute Shiloh showed up, I'm pretty sure that Ariel grew several feet taller and gained about fifty vocabulary words. You know what I mean. Its the same as how McLovin stopped looking like a puppy the minute we brought Ariel home. It's all relative.
Playing with our two babies together has made me feel oddly deja vu-y. I couldn't figure out why, and then it struck me. We are once again eleven and seven years old, playing together with our prized American Girl Dolls.
(I had Samantha, because she was the fanciest, and oh how I wanted to be fancy! I adored the SOUND of the descriptions in the catalog...velveteen hat with dove and rose and gold ribbons. Taffeta frock with sateen sash...although that sash was always flipping up at the ends and driving me crazy, and I think I scorched it, trying to iron it down flat...)
But anyway, yeah, we're having fun with those babies and all their accessories. Even though Ariel thinks there is no fun like kicking Shiloh and pulling her pacifier out of her mouth. Which is also strangely reminiscent of those childhood memories!
Pretty soon I'll put up some delishush pictures of the two of them together, but not now, because I haven't taken any yet. Because I am freakin TIRED and feel ICKY and also crabby, and there has been an insane amount of people traipsing around my house lately. Fantasy football drafts and birthday parties and game nights, and it has all been fun! Except for the parts where I ignore our company and sneak off to take a nap. No, that part was fun too, I won't lie.
Mmmm. Sleeping. Now that you mention it, I think I'll go to bed.
Haha, now that I typed that, my baby started crying. I think it was mine. Between Ariel, Shiloh, and the dog, I have decided that there are entirely too many people in this house who communicate in a high-pitched, wordless manner. Of which, Joey says, I am one.