Last night, therefore, we had to find Pajamas Appropriate for Daywear. E loves to wear long pants with shorts over them for sleeping, and I didn't want her to wear those to school because
For L, the hat was easy. She's been sporting an obsession with her sister's winter hat: purple fleece with a pompom on top. But her PJs were more complicated. Most of her jammies are the footie kind. Those don't go well with sandals and jungle-gym-climbing. Then I began thinking, also, about how snug her pajamas are. That's how pajamas are sold, nice and tight, but it looks a little funny in the middle of the day. I entertained myself by becoming increasingly concerned about VDL: Visible Diaper Line. No woman likes to show her lines, right? I was inspired to pull pajamas out of the next bag of handmedowns. She's wearing 12-18 months right now, and I thought to achieve that comfy, baggy look, I'd pull something out of the 18-24 bag. And then I realized: how perfect. Because exactly today my baby is 18 months old.
So you know that friend you have? We all have one? The one who starts a conversation with you, but you can't ever figure out what it's about? Because the way she talks you feel like you entered at the midpoint even though you've been there from the first word? (Thinking about it, I have three of those friends.) Time is like that friend. I've been here since before L was here-- I mean, we made her, I grew her, and I'm the one who pushed her out into this big Pajamas as Daywear crazy world. But I have no idea how it's possible that she's 18 months old. Yes, I know, 18 months she is. She points and instructs, Mommy! Do! She does somersaults and wants to eat her banana in the peel and yells Poopoop! when she poops and knows if you skip a page in Brown Bear, Brown Bear, What Do You See? And even though I've been here, it's hard to fathom that we got here already.
So you worry about these babies, and you do everything you can to let them be the best they can be, and you anticipate their happinesses and frustrations and with E, today's preparations were a success. She happily departed the car and met a friend who also had a sombrero, and the two of them walked hand-in-hand into school. And L, I am a lover of tushie waddles, and I was ready to admire her tushie, sans-VDL, of course, as she, too, wiggled into school. But the thing is, when she yells Poopoop! in the car, it's not a joke.
Do you know the book Animals Should Definitely Not Wear Clothing? It's another of our favorites. L would know if you skipped a page in this book, too. For example, the chicken page:
which is what she looked like as she and her poopoop wiggled into school today.
She had no VDL, but you wouldn't have noticed it anyway for the package she was carrying.
So, my Ladybug L, you're outspoken, clever, and a little bit gross. Which: is about everything you want in a perfect 18-month old. Good job so far, Kicky. Keep up the good work.