Piggysnoot

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.

Dear Nora,

Today you are two years old.

You’re a child now. No longer a baby.

What a difference a year makes:

1 year

2 years

I love you big girl!

Love,

Mommy

My Dearest Nora,

You love ketchup. Like ridiculously love it. If you could drink it with a straw I think you would. Some of the less conventional items I have seen you put ketchup on, are:

grilled cheese

pancakes

macaroni and cheese

mandarin oranges

apple slices

See what I mean? You really love ketchup. I don’t mind though. ‘Cause if you’re eating mandarin oranges with ketchup it means that you are at least eating a fruit that day. You don’t have cookies or candy everyday, but you do have ketchup everyday. For now it works. I may have to draw the line one day at ketchup covered ice cream.

Love,

Mommy