For 12 wonderful years the only babies we ever had were boys. The house was full of Tonka trucks, Lincoln Logs, guns, swords, knives, bows and arrows, footballs, baseballs and lots of dirt. At Christmastime army men guard the tree , and in the summer frogs, toads and snakes abound.
The two girls did their best to keep at least some parts of the house feminized, but with a 2-5 ratio they were well out numbered. Mysteriously, their baby dolls lost arms and legs; and their jewelry was found in the bottom of the pirate's chest.
The two girls did their best to keep at least some parts of the house feminized, but with a 2-5 ratio they were well out numbered. Mysteriously, their baby dolls lost arms and legs; and their jewelry was found in the bottom of the pirate's chest.
Let it not be thought, however, that the girls never won a battle. There are still pictures to be found of at least half of the boys dressed in frilly pink dresses and dubbed, "Little Nora," Or "Baby Nellie."
In 2005 that all changed though, with the arrival of Aliza Rose. Our lives have never been the same.
Please, never underestimate the power of one little girl.
Now, there cannot seem to be enough dolls, stuffed animals, dresses, ribbons and princess's attire. Already, at 3, Aliza knows each of the Disney princess's by name, and the "prince song" that goes with them. (She's not quite in tune or on key, but we give her kudos for trying).
She is a Drama Queen with style, and capable of making every incident into a huge ordeal.
In the frosty morning, just as the sun was starting to wake up, Aliza sat at the kitchen table, eating her breakfast. She heard a cry from behind her and turned to see one of our kittens, eager for attention, crying at the back door. The October morning was a typical for Ohio, with light frost on the grass and windows and the sun just starting to gleam through the fog. Perhaps it looked worse than it was for a little 3-year-old. Aliza jumped off her chair and cried, in a big, swelling voice, "O, Fitzwilliam!" She then opened the back door (which is twice her size) and gathered the kitten (who is now almost full grown) in her arms. "O, Fitzwilliam. O, Fitzy. You poor thing!" She turned to Mom, who was watching with a smile, and said so seriously, "O, Mom. Poor Fitzy was left out all night long!" She would have none of the sense that Mom offered, of how strong a kitty Fitzwilliam was, or how safe he would have been under the porch. "O, Poor Fitzwilliam!" She continued on.
Her accomplishments do not stop with her excellent dramatic skills. As bright as can be, she repeats everything better than a parrot. Including memorable lines from her favorite movies. "Killjoy," has become her expression of frustration (from Cinderella). The Sound of Music rings through the rooms on occasion. Her best yet though was last night at dinner. We were enjoying homemade french fries (Dad's favorite) and in the bustle of everything that happens when 11 hungry people get together, no one was listening to the little darling at the bottom of the table. Soon we would.
She stood up on her chair, and in a deep, booming voice (or as best as she could imitate) said, "Pass the ketchup in the name of the king!"
Well, uh, "Yes, your highness."
Angela looked at Mom and sighed, "Too many princess movies."
... maybe. But, maybe not. :-)
