Just So you Know

Reese slept through the night last night. I know, I can’t believe it either. I woke up around 4:45 and thought she’d be waking me up any minute, but it never happened. I have no expectations that this will last, but I needed that.

I got my first truly judgey look from and old person today at Trader Joes. Up until now everything Kennedy did was baby-ish and cute, but I guess we’ve passed that point. Kennedy loves that place because of the tiny shopping carts and she knows exactly where they are so she started sprinting for them once we got inside and telling me she was going to get her shopping cart. She ran past this white-haired old lady, not into her, she didn’t cut her off, just past her, and this lady turned and looked at me like Kennedy just killed someone. I wanted to flick her in the nose and smack her in the back of the head.

Seriously. Seriously? If I thought she was doing something wrong I absolutely would have corrected her, but she wasn’t. She was just excited about her shopping cart and SHE’S TWO. If some cranky old lady can’t stand to see a happy child that’s her fault, not mine. Find joy lady, find joy.

How old is too old for bubble rompers and ruffle butts because I switched the girls clothes out last week to their fall/winter stuff and it makes me sad to think Kennedy may be too old for those next summer. Three is totally young enough still, right?

And I’m dying that I’m going to have a three-year old next year.

Birthdays that aren’t spring/summer birthdays are hard to plan. I have no clue what I’m doing for Reese yet.

My eye has been twitching all morning and I’m getting really irritated. I know that doesn’t matter at all to you, but this post is all about the unnecessary.

Happy Wednesday!


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I’m a twenty-something wannabe city girl living in Tallahassee, FL with my husband and high school sweetheart, David, and our girls, Kennedy and Reese. I'm a financial analyst, much better with numbers than words, but this is my attempt at recording this wonderful, crazy life of ours.

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