Lately Nora has taken to wearing my shoes. My black and white polka dotted heels to be exact. Add that to the fact that she insists on having all of my bags from the “makeup store” (Sephora) and she’s shaping up to be quite the girly girl. Most unlike her mother.
My favorite thing about her wearing these shoes is that they are more than double the length of her feet! Yet she walks in them better than some women I’ve seen.
Carrying around her bounty (crayons, actually) from Sephora.
If nothing else she’s learning how to scowl like me. At least I’ve given her that. It will no doubt come in handy one day when she has a husband of her own.
It amazes the shit out of me that she’s turning into such a…person. She’s no longer a baby, and barely a toddler. She speaks English and Spanish. She brushes her teeth. She goes potty and wears big girl underwear. But sometimes she still snuggles while we read books and she’s suddenly quite dependent on her blankie. So there are a few reminders that she’s still my baby.
I’m glad she’s a happy kid.
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