When I left the house this morning for work S was three-years-old. When I returned home from work she had on lipstick, nail polish and glitter make-up all over her face. Heart palpitations ensued. Sure it was only play make-up she'd gotten at the store earlier in the day, but it was something I wasn't prepared to see. There needs to be some sort of warning phone call placed before I leave work when I'm to return home to a short little 25-year-old. It was made better, though, when she crawled up in my lap and snuggled up to me just like the little girl I'd last seen sleeping in her Dora nightgown before leaving in the morning. But then she got glitter on my shirt so I made her get up.
In other news: I gave GK her first bottle tonight after work. Apparently this is a milestone for mothers. I understand the importance of breastfeeding - the bonding, the nutrients, the antibodies, blah, blah, blah. What's the best part of breastfeeding, though, guys? The fact that I can't do it. Her leap into bottle feeding just heralds an era of something else for me to do. I'm still lobbying for breastfeeding in the middle of the night, though. She didn't even do that good of a job with the bottle, but she may have been distracted by all the glitter I was wiping off my shirt and onto hers.