I used to feel some criticism for being too positive on my blog. Like I must be trying to make my life seem perfect. It bothered me. I don't get that as much anymore, so maybe it's nice and clear now that it is far from perfect. But since perfect isn't really my goal there, I really am so so so happy. And while I love writing down my stress and frustration too... I'm certainly not going to downplay my happy moments. I NEED those moments tucked away and saved forever.
So, when Mila was past her first horrendous fit of the day after she couldn't steal the ONE strawberry shortcake picture Sophia was coloring and instead had to chose from the remaining seventeen-- and her sweet side surfaced-- I thought I'd capture it... and perhaps by documenting it, I'd will it to stick.
Or something like that. 
(Excuse me that I look like a hundred years old in this picture. There's no reality check like putting your morning face next to a bright-eyed three-year-old. Did I mention I turn 30 next month? Holy moly.)
(Excuse me that I look like a hundred years old in this picture. There's no reality check like putting your morning face next to a bright-eyed three-year-old. Did I mention I turn 30 next month? Holy moly.) Honestly... to look like that after rolling out of bed and crying for 20 minutes.
Ok so we may have done a booger-cleaning and a pony. Oh if that's all it took for me.
1 comment:
oh man am i ever glad to find out that my 3 year old isn't the only one sometimes.
except annie inherited my ugly cry, poor gal. she'll never rock the post-tantrum like mila.
I was admiring your long neck and chiseled chin, mrs.-i-think-i-look-100-years-old lady. you are a hottie.
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