Dance, Girl, Dance.

Let is go on record that I didn't want to sign Riley up for dance. I thought she would be too overstimulated from school and we shouldn't do dance until she was four. I didn't want to push her into something that she didn't want to do.

Let is also go on record that I was wrong. Dead wrong.

Miss Riley Belle loved dancing.

On a morning ride to school, her best buddy pointed out her dance studio. Riley pipes up, "I want to go to dance." I knew she was serious because she kept talking about it.

We went out yesterday and purchased her shoes and dance outfit. She was ecstatic. Danced in the store. This was course after she freaked out in the Target dressing room because she was afraid the attendant would come in on her naked. She also kept repeating, "I don't like that lady." The lady look unamused when we exited the room.

After school and her snack, Riley dressed in her dance ensemble and waited for her ride to class. She kept her shoes, socks, and water bottle in the bag I dug up from my stash, insisting to sling it across her chest like I wear my diaper bag.

Because of the plague currently attacking Reese's eye, nose, throat, and ears, we stayed home and Riley rode with our friends. She shot the in-studio pictures of our ballerina and tap dancer in action. She can't wait to go back next week.

Back to School - Proud Moments

Last week brought three big changes to our house. Mommy works part time as a professor, Riley is in the 3 year old class at preschool and Reese is being looked after by a close family friend while Mommy and Riley at school. Everyone had a great first week and we are excited about the upcoming school year.

Morning of the first day of school for Mommy and Riley.

Riley and one of her teachers, Ms. Tami. We were lucky enough to get her for the second year in a row.


What makes it even better is that Riley and her best friend are in class together!
In contrast to last year, I left that little preschool classroom proud. Proud of my first-born as she looked confident and helped her friend adjust to the new surroundings - familiar to her this time around. I was so proud that I actually high-fived my friend as we left the room. I was proud that I let Riley wear her worn out, hand-me-down-from-her-cousin red dress and her non-matching pink, sparkly, light up shoes. I let go. It made her happy so I was too. Last year I was holding an almost newborn but this year, I confidently handed her off and strode off in my high-heels and working mom wear. I was proud that I was excited, not sad. I was excited not only about Riley's newest adventure but mine too. And you know what? I couldn't wait to see my kids when school let out and we picked up Reese. I loved on them a little more, used kinder words, and even made dinner. Now that's something to be proud of.

The mall

We had to get out of the house. Desperately. It had been raining for two days and we hadn't left the house let alone change out of our pajamas.

I decided to load the girls up in the van. First up, we did the carousel ride. In line, some girls were looking at Riley. This obviously makes her nervous so what does she do? Pull Reese's hair. While on the ride, I position myself between the two horses the girls are riding, "Cinderella" was Riley's and Reese was riding "Jessica." We had to talk about names for a long time: Why would Cinderella be a horse and who is Jessica?

Then, Riley is the kid who you can't get off the ride. I pry her little hands off and promise her pretzel sticks. Nutritious lunch, right?

After I slather them down with sanitizing wipes, we head to the little tables at the food court. I spot a girl I used to work with - pre-mom days. I notice how lovingly she peers in her kids eyes, enthralled in their words and little faces. I drag my kids over and we exchange our hellos.

Of course, the first words out of my mouth are, "You have two kids!"
Her: You do too!

This is when it happens. It's like I have been released from solitary confinement. It is all unleashed.

I teach college kids now. How old are your kids? When are their birthdays? Where does he go to school? What are you doing? Oh, this is your family? Hi, I'm Jamie. We used to work together. These are my girls.

(Cue Riley suffocating Reese with a pretzel stick.)

All of this happens before she even responds. It's like she's in shock by my rate of speech and the content in which I am providing at record speed.

We never get farther than the food court. That was enough activity for one day.

Boobs.

So if you are thinking, is Jamie writing about boobs again? The answer is: Hells Yeah.

Reese was up last night with teething pain. In fact, she interrupted our hubby/wife movie watching and sneaky cookie eating time. We were watching Bad Teacher. Cameron Diaz wants big boobs to attract rich men. She is also a bad teacher. Spoiler alert: This is basically the entire plot of the movie.

Reese is sitting on the couch with us, drinking some milk from her sippy cup and moaning her little self back to sleep when all of a sudden, some gigantic boobs pop onto the screen. (Cameron was in the plastic surgeon's office and was getting an eyeful of another woman's larger pair).

My former breastfed baby bounds off the couch, grunting, running, and pointing at the television screen. She is pointing at the lady's rack. She gets as close as she can to those puppies and sort of dances at the sight of her long lost friends.

And that folks, was the highlight of my day.