Little Girls

Alice has been watching a lot of “Annie” these days, and there’s nothing more awesome than hearing her sing, “Little Girls.”
Because she IS ONE. And incidentally, everywhere I turn, I can see her.

Or evidence of little girls. Same diff.

Lacy isn’t so little anymore, and it’s bumming me out BIG TIME. She’s growing so fast, asking grown up questions and caring what others think of her. Such a stark difference from the little girl who wore whatever she wanted whenever she wanted and had ALL of her own answers, thankyouverymuch.
She’s now guiding her little sister patiently through early childhood and all the rites entailed therein:

Licking the bowl IN princess clothes.
Alice is a lucky girl to have such a great big sister. We are all lucky to have each other.

Danny calls Alice, “Alicia reincarate.”
Alice follows me everywhere. Every breath I take, every move I make. She’s my little barnacle, my buddy.
This means I haven’t slept well since 2011, before I became pregnant with her. She’s bursting with energy, curiosity and curious energy. I sometimes wonder why we even bought her a bed. She never uses it because I have a bed, and if I have a bed it is Alice’s by default.
That’s how PARENTING works, apparently.
After one particularly exhausting day in the which Lacy had a back rash and Alice had dumped half of my Sam’s Club cinnamon on the kitchen and living room floor, I got the older two to bed and collapsed on the couch.

Alice was still going strong, and the next thing I knew she was decked out in an apron, socks and binoculars…
“I da DOCTOR!”
And my feet were examined thoroughly.

I don’t want her to grow up.
It seems like just a few days ago Lacy was staying up past midnight and emptying all of the drawers. Now she stays up past midnight reading. This month, she passed her goal of getting over 200 AR reading points, and she was rewarded by the school with…
A BOOK LIGHT.
Bring on that midnight oil, folks.

And I’m over here like Napoleon in Uncle Rico’s time machine: