I can't believe my baby's four. And I know I say that exact phrase every year. And I also know that every year it's going to be even more unbelievable to me how big she is. It seems like James and I should be celebrating the birth of our first child, not celebrating the birthday of our now FOUR year old.
Along with her four years of life have come some fun new questions, like.....
"When was I in your tummy?" "Was I always in your tummy?" "How did I get in your tummy?"
Which led to even more questions....
"How do babies get in their mommy's tummy?" Imagine me nonchalantly giving some general answer like "Well God put them there." And then imagine London's frustration at me for not giving her a better answer, like she knows I'm withholding information from her. "I know mommy, but how?" I won't bore you with the details of that explanation, except that I felt like satisfactorily gave her legitimate answers without going down that road quite yet. I'm not ready for that road anytime soon.
But anyway, back to my baby. And by baby I mean London. Because she will always, and I mean ALWAYS be my baby.
Noble LOVES to be outside. I'm pretty sure he'd live there if he could. Actually I know he would. It is a small battle when it's time to go inside and wash the dirt off of his hands/toes/head/hair/wherever else dirt can inhabit.
He's preparing to be the next star of Survivor, or maybe man vs. wild.
I preparation for London's second year of preschool, we (or maybe just I) had to indulge in some back to school shopping. London was so jazzed about her new 'school clothes' (which consisted of three items, which is apparently just as exciting as an entire new wardrobe when you're 3 1/2). She couldn't wait to try them on and 'model' them for me. Of course, I couldn't bring myself to tell her that she wouldn't be sportin' her jeans and long sleeved tee for another two months.