Friday, October 21, 2011

My Little Princess

She's such a delight, this Angel Baby of mine.  She picks everything sparkly and pink to wear. She adores getting her nails painted, and this is one of the few times she actually stops moving for more than 2 seconds.  She loves to have her hair pinned up or pulled back, even if she hates the brushing part.

Yes, she sure looks like a princess most of the time.

Hidden under this sparkling pink facade... is nothing near a princess. She is as much a boy as her brothers. As I type this she is playing with a little blue robot the boys left out.  She likes to get right into the mud. She loves to do everything that her brothers are doing.

She is the one I will have to watch as a teenager.

She is amazing, in fact, I believe that all three of my kids are amazing. I have been one to let fear and worry rule my world. As a kid, I was afraid of getting hurt. I was worried about what others thought of me. I was always trying too hard to be what I thought others wanted me to be. I didn't take risks. I didn't even like riding my bike too fast. I still don't take a lot of risks, but I'm learning to stop guessing what others think of me and start forming opinions of my own.

My kids are so strong and confident. Art is maybe too confident, thinking he's unbreakable sometimes when he really shouldn't. They do what they want, they follow their hearts.  There are no rules or stereotypes that interfere with their choices.  There is no 'boy toy' or 'girl toy' rules here. They play together and share with each other. I love this.

I am not sure how someone like me, who is so aware of everyone around me, so obsessed with other peoples needs and opinions could have raised such self sufficient kids. How can I teach them lessons that I can't follow myself?  I guess I can model why you shouldn't worry so much...

Angel Baby spends more time with the least likely of toy choices. Every day she carries something different to the school when it's time to pick the boys up.  Imagine a pretty little pink purse, filled with dirt, cars, you name it! 
Let me tell you, every day here is an adventure with this one.
Can you see?  Just under the vanity table, the doll has been moved to the floor. The bassinet for babies is filled with more important things at the moment.
Her husband of the future may want to be careful when asking what's for dinner. Well, he might be okay, she does sometimes like to cook with me.

Now, this last one?  He's developing a bit of a history with us.  Bought as a prank to get my boys, but adopted by my little princess.  Seriously, the rubber has almost a fleshy feel to it, the inside is not solid, but some sort of squishy beany something, kind of like a bean bag but ... not quite.  We have a black partner too.  Art kept getting revenge pranks from Grandma, she kept finding the mice all over the house and thinking he was planting them. Little did she know it was the Angel Baby, not planting them but carrying them all over all the time and dropping them or setting them down in random places.

She loves these things.  Crazy kid. A few days a go, I found it on my chair in the dining room when I sat down to dinner. I've found it tucked by the leg of my desk, hiding behind chairs and under stools.  Even in a cupboard or two. But the other day was the worst yet.  Angel Baby had a rash happening, so I had been giving her the regular dose of vaseline smear.  She apparently decided that this little mouse needed some too. No, honey, the pink of his ears and tail are not from a rash!  

You haven't lived until you have tried to clean grease of a squishy, stretchy, ugly little mouse!  What can I say?  At least she didn't put it in her hair this time.


  1. I can fly yay woo weedley weedley wee doodley doodley doo


  2. Oh, Macboy, if only my readers could hear you singing this!