Still struggling with SS's snack and lunch.

When I learned that K kids get twenty minutes for lunch I knew things were going to be difficult. Twenty minutes is just enough time for SS to sit down and open her lunch bag. Our daughter is painfully slow. For the past two weeks I have tried so many things, and SS manages to take a bite, two if we are lucky, of her food.  Right now her coming home hungry is not a problem. I can have her finish her lunch at home, or make her something else. But once she attends after school care (hopefully in mid January), SS won't have either of us to keep tabs on her food consumption.  The first week and a half SS was drinking most of her milk, then finishing at home. For three days now her thermos has returned full.  It is a pain in the rear end to feed our child.

All I can do for now is make sure that she has a good breakfast. It does no have to be breakfast food, dinner leftovers are as good. We just d not want her to be at school with an empty stomach. Initially P wanted to buy the school hot lunches, but we were asked to pack a lunch for the first two weeks.  I think I'm going to keep packing her lunches, because at least I know how much she eats.

The next thing we need to work on with SS is opening containers. I pack all her food in snack size Z*ploc bags, because SS can't open a food storage container, let a lone a thermos. Those tiny hands and fingers are not strong enough. 

Last night we had Chinese for dinner, a sure thing with SS, and she did make up for not eating lunch. And eating out with Grandpa means coming home with next day lunch. Grandpa has done well at the Casino tables.  Tonight will be our last visit with him, he departs tomorrow morning.

Crispy shrimp.

Beef satay.

White and fried rice are always a hit.

Tid Bits

SS, K and E make a cute trio. K's mother is half Asian, half Caucasian, and his father is Mexican. When his mother told us his middle name we were glad she stuck to her decision of using K as his first name. K's middle name is his paternal great-grandfather's name, the man's first and last name.  E is Hispanic, and being raised by her grandparents. She has a lot of the same issues regarding abandonment as SS, and is asking a lot of questions. E is also very self conscious about her family being different, although there's plenty of resemblance. Makes it even more interesting that SS is eerily comfortable with our mixed family.  Although SS is the only Asian child in her class )and so far all of K), we feel really good about the diversity present in just that cute trio of misfits.

SS received her first birthday party invitation yesterday, to K's sister's first birthday celebration. E was also invited, and the majority of kids there will be K's or C's  age (his sister who is 3). We feel comfortable with SS around both age groups. And the birthday girl, S, is simply adorable. So adorable, that P, who thinks 99.9% of children he encounters are plain ugly, declared her "cute."

Yesterday I was asked "the question," and it came from an unexpected source.  After letting the kids go for the day, Mrs. V-P called me over and asked about SS's name, because she goes by her nickname at school, rather than her first name. I explained that on the registration form we were asked preferred name, and legal name. Since they are practicing writing their names, I told Mrs. V-P that she could use either one.

Mrs. V-P asked if SS was born "here," and I responded that she was born in China. I am not usually very forthcoming with information until I can gauge the intention behind the inquiry. Plus, I enjoy making people spell out what it is they want to know.  Pause, then... "how did she get here?" I was oh so tempted to say via Northwest Airlines, but realized that she did not seem to be just nosy. I stated the obvious, via adoption. The teacher asked about the process, then surprised me by revealing that she and her husband have been trying to conceive for twelve years. OK, STOP, TMI! They are considering adoption, but do not feel comfortable with a domestic adoption. Better for them, they are not interested in adopting an infant. We talked about the special needs program, I gave her some resources in terms of research, and went to find my husband and child.

When I relayed the conversation to P, he said "that was my fault." How the heck could someone asking about SS's origin be his fault? Although P has been to school on his days off, I am the one who gets the teacher's attention for SS to be released. Yesterday was the first time that the teacher got a good look at P, and according to him, that is what spurred the question. 

SS and P spent time with Grandpa today after school, and we had dinner at home. SS arrived with some pretty cool loot. Grandpa solved a dilemma we had for a few weeks. SS is overall Lego crazy, but right now she is Ninjago crazy. She's been asking for a set from Costco. We are doing very well about not buying her things just because. The nearest special occasion is Christmas, and who knows what she will absolutely die without by then. Grandpa absolved us of all guilt by indulging SS, and he also spotted a Coast Guard helicopter, and just had to buy it. What he did not know is that SS has developed an interest in helicopters over the past two months. No idea where that came from, it just sneaked up on me. Right now SS is mad at me, because she will have to wait until the weekend to play with her Legos.

After SS was in bed I took a look at her Lego set, and the third pack caught my eye, a weapons pack. SS has a weapons pack, watch out world.

Grandpa is visiting.

Grandpa arrived in San Diego last night at around 11:00 p.m.  As much as we wanted to be at the airport, SS and I stayed home. It was way pass her bedtime, and we want to make sure that SS is well rested on school mornings. Life kind of sucks when you have to finally become a responsible parent.  It was the right decision, because P did not make it home until 2:00 a.m.  Grandpa is staying at a hotel that can meet his needs better than our two story house.

We had lunch with Grandpa after school, then walked around the casino.  We accidentally discovered that if SS is sitting on Grandpa's lap, she can enter the forbidden carpeted area, without security scrambling to get her off. We had visited the casino for Mother's Day brunch, made the mistake of stepping on forbidden territory, and were quickly shooed away. After being schlepped around in comfort, SS decided to pretend to push the wheelchair. The girl is quirky.

Next was pool time, on the third floor of the hotel, which made P assume that it was an indoor pool. The temperature was high, but the breeze was a bit of a killer. We still got in, and although we forgot (P removed them from the van) SS's wetsuit and PFD, a good time was had by all.  P being P and spreading sunshine as usual, wanted to know everything about Grandpa's prosthesis. We have talked to SS about the amputation, the prosthesis, and what to expect, but she is still five years old. Her empathy for her grandfather, coupled with her limited understanding, almost resulted in a crying fest. Grandpa removed his prosthesis, SS did not have advanced notice, and it really cooked her noodle. She wanted to know if Grandpa was in pain, and she began to sniffle, SS wanted Grandpa to get his leg fixed, as in another real one. Oh sweetie, if life were only that simple. I can't believe that my colostomy and open wound came in handy. We talked about how bad it looked, that it hurt initially, but eventually the pain was gone. That seemed to pacify SS, and when we arrived home we reassured her that Grandpa is not suffering. Had I not been so busy with SS, I would have smacked P, as hard as possible upside his head. Seriously, I have fully accepted his morbid curiosity with death and destruction, but five year olds are not equipped with the tools to handle reality at times. 

We had a blast, but had (me) to come home to feed SS dinner, and get her in bed on time. P returned to have dinner with Grandpa, and spend quality time. I think my sneaky husband is scheming to spend Christmas in Maui, who knows with him. SS was babbling during bath time about the cool hotel where Grandpa lives. We don't know why SS is so fascinated with hotels, but if she could, she would spend weekends hotel hopping.

We will make sure to get pictures of SS and Grandpa looking at the camera.

SS's bed is getting crowded, and sometimes she actually gets under all those blankets. I do remove a lot of her must have once she is sound asleep.

My breakfast tomorrow morning, two hours before my scan. We are praying for no surprises to be found, and hopefully in two weeks we will be scheduling my surgery. Kind of pathetic to be excited about surgery, but it's time for my intestines to hang out in their original location.

Soccer clinic videos.

We really have to be careful of what we do around SS. P watched the videos as soon as he arrived home Saturday. Since we came home I have sent him pictures and videos daily, even when we are home doing nothing. P is used to get his daily fix, but the reception at the park was lousy, and at times non existent. P was excited for SS and wanted to know how things were going, but had to wait. Funny how we become so accustomed to technology, and when we are deprived, we act as though we are undergoing extreme hardship. Anyway, SS was playing upstairs and it did not take long before P was laughing his butt off at SS's lack of coordination.  SS is also lazy, the girl would rather go hungry than spend unnecessary energy chewing. She was no different in the field, several steps behind. SS came downstairs to find us in tears from all the laughter, and it hurt her feelings.  She said she would not play again, and we feel awful.

The truth is that we are very proud of our uncoordinated bundle of joy. The fact that SS is alive today is a miracle, and we rejoice each and every day for that blessing. There are many things SS should not be doing, and we have a front row seat to her amazing resilience and tenacity. It is only because we are so proud of SS's defiance of the odds, that we feel comfortable having fun at her less than perfect moments. We just have to be mindful that she is a sensitive soul, and act accordingly. We talked to SS, reassured her, and in minutes she was babbling about playing next month.

Soccer clinic.

SS's grandmothers mentioned that she did well kicking a soccer ball at their place. P and I had already discussed signing up SS for a short soccer season, through the Boys and Girls Club, starting in September.  We usually do not rely on grandparent praise, because they do have a perfect record of bias. As I type this the Abus are waiting for SS's growth spur, with the result being a Yao tall granddaughter.  So not going to happen. On Wednesday SS came home from school with a flier about a free soccer clinic. All we had to do was get her shin guards, which she would need next month anyway. We thought it would be a good opportunity to get a glimpse of SS's mad soccer skills. The downside, as with any Saturday activity was that P would miss the fun. Still, SS was beyond excited about getting to kick a ball around and off we went this morning.

We are confident that we are not raising a future Olympian, and there won't be any Mia Hamm or Hope Solo comparisons when SS enters a soccer field. Our daughter is hopelessly uncoordinated, although she looks good in the pictures below. I will be posting video tomorrow and it is a hoot. I took way too many pictures, and more video than needed, to allow P to see his baby shine.  The videos are going to take a while to load, that is why I won't be able to post until tomorrow.

The important part is that SS had a blast, and did her best to keep up with her peers.  She even managed to find a boy her size, and completely clueless, and managed to steal his ball. That was what they were practicing at the time. There were two practices scheduled, with a half hour lunch break in between. But half way through the first session, it was obvious that the kids were getting tired, and the second session was canceled.  They played from 9:30 to noon, and SS was running on fumes by the end. She wanted me to carry her to the car, but we refrain from carrying her around kids her age. We do not want them to see her as a baby and treat her accordingly.  SS was not pleased, but every child there walked to their cars on their own power.  She gave the morning two thumbs up, and can't wait to play next month. Practice is on Thursdays and games on Saturdays.  I will be taking lots of pictures and video for P.  

A very cranky SS showing her displeasure (and p*ssy attitude) at having to wait to start playing.

 

Much better, cuteness is always welcomed.

SS approached three boys who were playing at the goal, and made herself at home.  That kick looks like it was about to land on the boy's head, but he was safe.

During the fifteen minute break I took a very flushed SS to the van.  I cranked up the AC, and began to rehydrate my tiny soccer player.

DOG made it to the field after the break. SS was feeling Baba's absence, so I indulged her.

Another high kick.

Who knew kindergarten would have such a steep learning curve.

We are halfway through the second week, and still trying to get our bearings with school. SS has exceeded our expectations with her morning and evening routines. She gets annoyed when asked to change out of her school clothes as soon as we arrive home. Can't blame her because it is something new, she remained in whatever she wore to preschool before. What is turning out to be a pain in the neck is the lack of communication.

SS was not supposed to receive homework for the first two weeks of school. At least that is what was said during orientation. When SS arrived with work in her backpack it made us wonder. I sent Mrs. V-P a note asking if SS was not finishing her work in the classroom, since it is something we wanted to address immediately, or was it homework. The first day of school I told the teacher that SS uses three sided pencils due to her tiny hands and lack of dexterity, and that she had three in her backpack. Pencils were unused, so I added a request for her or the assistant to please remind SS. That afternoon the homework/classwork/extra credit/whatever was not in SS's backpack, but there was no note either.

On Monday SS came home with work and a note. It requested that we had SS finish the work, as she did not get to start, because she was pulled out of the classroom for testing. That was the end of the note. What kind of testing? Why weren't we informed? Would it have taken that much time to include why was SS being tested? I waited for P's opinion before venting my annoyance, perhaps I was being too judgmental. Turns out he seemed more annoyed than I.

The next day I talked to K's and E's moms, and E was pulled out for testing and her mom was also wondering why. Mrs. V-P usually has a lot of parents crowding her, and we had tried to respect her need to get the kids into the classroom ASAP. But I just had to ask, and it turns out that SS and E (along with the majority of their classmates) were tested for English proficiency. I thought that is what the assessment prior to enrollment in the program covered. This testing is state mandated when there is more than one language spoken in the home. Now, with a class of at least 95% Spanish speaking children, why not have a flier explaining this, make copies, and keep the parents informed.
Someone pointed out that teachers are accustomed to indifference from parents. That's not us, we do not appreciate being uninformed about our child.

Yesterday evening we received the second automated message (or robocall) reminding us that today was a minimum school day.  For the second week it stated that AM kindergarten would be out at 12:40. SS's class ends at 12:30, but on minimum days it runs 10 minutes longer?  We also received a reminder from Mrs. V-P to return the blue book sent home to collect our signatures. What blue book? Thankfully the other moms were as confused, so I bit the bullet and approached Mrs V-P again. I so do not want to become "that parent," but what the heck. She was surprised at the 12:40 time, said it was maybe a mistake, and we should check with the office.  Then curiosity got the best of her, and she decided to ask herself. She came out of the office with a rather funny expression, as in stunned, and on the verge of teed off. She had just been informed of the release time on minimum days, and it was indeed 12:40. We have worked in some pretty messed up places, but we have always been aware when we are expected to begin and end our workday.  The other immersion teacher was not pleased, and was not shy about letting everyone there now. OK, that part was amusing, but I probably would have been upset as well. Back to school night is August 27 or 28, depending on whether you believe the Power Point presentation during orientation, or what the teachers say now.  Not that it matters to us, because we do no get to attend, since we already attended orientation before school began. Initially P was disappointed because he would have liked to see SS's classroom, and touch base with the teacher.  Now he is upset about not getting to ask what the heck is going on.  We are seriously doubting that SS is in kindergarten, we are convinced SS joined a cult, perhaps she is now a Scientologist, Tom Cruise is the Grand Thetan, pulling the strings, and keeping us in the dark. 

Getting serious with K about her need for space.

SS did a great job helping make dinner, Rolled Pesto Lasagna.  Not a recipe that will ever be featured in any healthy eating or diet book. SS helped mix the spread the filling, ricotta, Monterey Jack, spices and garlic.

This was SS's first time doing this, and she did such an amazing job, given her small hands.  SS rolled more than half of the rolls.

She then carefully placed them in the baking dish.

Next step was adding whipping cream to the pesto we made earlier.

Blend

A good chef always tastes her food.

Pour over the rolls, then allow Mama to place in the oven.

Carb loading while waiting.

And thirty-five minutes later we were finally done. It took longer than usual, but SS was very proud of her role in making dinner.

Why do you have to be a heartbreaker?

When we picked up SS yesterday I noticed her friend K sitting down on the floor outside the classroom, arms crossed, and a very teed off look on his face. I thought he probably had a bad day, we all have those. When we arrived this morning, K opened his backpack and shyly gave SS a drawing of the two of them.  SS had the be prodded to say thank you, then to my surprise she handed me the drawing and said "Show it to Baba." Huh? Then off they went to their teacher for another whopping three hours of learning. K's mom (N) approached me and shyly asked if something happened between SS and K yesterday. Not to my knowledge, although SS was awfully quiet, a rarity.  N stated that K was in a foul mood yesterday afternoon and even cried. The reason? When he went to pick up SS's backpack (apparently a daily occurrence), SS said no, that she would do it herself. Apparently it broke his heart, and the boy was afraid some other boy would be helping SS. That explains the sour look on his face yesterday. Our tiny Jezebel made a boy cry on her second week of school. Another reason I'm thankful that I'll be in an assisted living facility when SS hits puberty. 

After school today we went to my surgeon's appointment, and an unexpected one hour and twenty minute wait. I have waited at appointments before, but that was ridiculous.  The good news is that my intestines will be returned to their original position as soon as the insurance approves the surgery, and after I have a CAT Scan.  Dr. M did a double take when he read that I had a colectomy. "How old are you!? Oh well, not like I had any control over my colon perforating. Dr. M said that it is very unusual to have an incisional hernia where mine is located, (again, freaking lucky me)' they usually appear on the lower torso. And because I am so darned gifted at screwing up, it looks like I have several ruptures. Go me! Although he is going to request approval for laparoscopy and regular surgery, he is confident that he will be able to to the laparoscopic route. That is if the scan does not reveal any surprises, and since I'm such a medical mess, who knows what will happen. Yesterday I picked up a sleep study and possible tonsilectomy, today hernia surgery. Next month is my left knee's turn to showcase how my body is completely falling apart.

SS began her homework ninety minutes ago, and she is still on page one. All she had to do was write the word uno three times, then color a picture of a freaking horse (color by numbers). Ninety minutes and she is barely halfway through. SS's homework is going to be the death of me. Aren't kids supposed to enjoy coloring? And there's one more page to be colored. UGH. We are going to have to start her on homework as soon as she gets home from school. Happy, happy, joy, joy.

Now that stupid song is stuck in my head.

So cute that K drew SS wearing a skirt and with pony tails.

We bought strawberries yesterday and SS asked me every five minutes if I was going to make agua fresca. This morning was the same, so I surprised her with a big cup full of the good stuff. The corn dog didn't go over as well, she only took one bite.

My very secure husband rocking SS's fedora.

Manic Monday.

This morning went better then we expected, the tittle is merely a shout out to the song. We made it to school earlier than usual because P was home.  SS had a great sleep over, and although we went to bed early on Saturday evening, we caught a non SS appropriate movie on Sunday. Like dinner the night before, it was a surreal experience. No tiny but mighty person between us, making sure we did not touch each other.  We had dinner at the grandmothers' (sorry lazy, there are the Abus, and now grandmothers, no offense intended), awesome lasagna with a secret family recipe sauce that P had missed for the past 15 years.  SS enjoyed not only the grandmothers attentions, but also the attention of a good friend who was visiting. Sounds like attention hog heaven, SS's domain. SS had pool time (we were green with envy), and we are happy to report that they have not banned five year old girls, who were born in China, reside in Southern California with a Puerto Rican Mother, and Irish/Jewish father, from ever entering the community pool. It comes across as very DQ, but you never know what Hurricane SS will leave as an aftermath.  The three Ms (they share the same first name) praised SS's behavior, and P and I were wondering if they were being truly honest. Thank Goddess SS only shows her out of control behavior at home. This led us to reconsider posting, taking pictures of, and posting video of her true self. 

P surprised me by realizing that it was 6:50 p.m. and we had to get SS to bed.  This is not vile criticism of P, he just loses track of time. We thought we would be lucky to get SS down by 10:00 p.m.  Once home we went into speed the heck up mode and SS was in bed by 8:05. SS had an awesome time, collected many goodies, including skulls and bones pins.  SQUEAL!!!!!!!
We could tell she had a good time, and scored a soccer ball and leopard plush toy to take home. I initially said no, and hope did not hurt Nana's feelings, because I was not sure SS was being truthful.

We met with the pulmonologist this morning. His assistant asked me if I had seen him before (nope), then assured me that he was easy going, would take his time, and get to the root of my sleep difficulties. Yeah, whatever, right. It's been decades, and when I had my sleep study in 2005, the neurologist said I had less than 1% REM sleep,then blew me off.

I was glad P was with me, because once again he impressed the doctor by calmly detailing my insomnia psychotropic journey. I won't make excuses, that many meds in a year, and tell me if you can remember sh*t.

Dr. H thinks I have sleep apnea, although it was ruled out seven years ago.  The funny part was that when he described the symptoms of sleep apnea, P fit the bill, not me. P was very helpful about my restless legs. Seven years ago, no matter how much P mentioned it, my leg jerking was not taken into account. Even after my sleep study tech said she had never seen anyone so restless in her career.  We were impressed by Dr. H's  attention and understanding about nightmares versus night terrors. So many physicians are set on the mentality that night terrors are limited to childhood. 

Losing Papi at age 10 was perhaps the most significant event in my life. The first time that life was grossly unfair.  I could not understand it, let alone change it; and no one seemed to get that I had lost my father. Because as much as Hispanic families thrive with the concept of extended family, well, Mami was still standing, and so was Abuela.  Really, what the heck I had to complain about? This is NOT a slam on anyone, just how life works. Because although Papi was there for me, everyday, my positive, loving Papi,  ten years old is way too early to lose a father. It is why I treasure moments like the one depicted above. Baba is one awesome pillow, and has the best cuddle spot on his right side, either by his underarm, or by the crook of his neck.  I should know, those were my comfort spots until July 8, 2008. 

Sweet memories.

SS is now using P's old iPhone as an iPod. When P gave me the laptop I knew it was time to backup our files, and to make sure we did not lose precious memories. We also needed to sync our phones (were unable due to our old technology) and my iPad. On Thursday, P moved and converted our music files from our external hard drive, to the laptop. He then transferred them to our phones and to my pad.We have 4.7 days worth of music. I wanted to transfer them to SS's phone next, but P asked me to wait, because there were pictures and videos in it from a while back. How far back? I was surprised to find a video of SS at the mall with the double decker carousel we visited in Connecticut. That was in July 2009, when SS met her great-grandmother in New York. There were also videos from our visit to Puerto Rico. They are grainy, but they are so precious to us. Sweet memories when SS was a wee one, and we are so thankful for each one, no matter how grainy.

SS is having a sleep over with her grandmothers, and we are supposed to be getting ready to go to a comedy club. That was the plan, dinner, home, shower, change, then comedy club. Instead, we are home. yawning, and trying to make sure we at least make it to 9:00 p.m. Dinner was great, and totally out of character, as we were able to converse. No little girl making sure that the focus was on her all the time. On the drive home we could not stop yawning. As we neared home P said, "You know, all I wanted was time alone with you. We don't have to go to the comedy club, just as long as it is just us home." That was my cue to say that I really wanted to go out, paint the town red, let my hair down, listen to raunchy stand up comedy, live the dream. But right now I am on our sofa posting, watching America's Got Talent, and about to post cute videos of Baby S. God, we are soooooooooooooooooooooooo OLD.

Gracias a Dios es viernes.

The title means TGIF, and it's in Spanish as a shout out to SS's first five days in Spanish immersion hell. She has not complained once, although she is at a disadvantage. SS's class is at least 95% Hispanic, and for the majority, apparently fluent in Spanish. I dislike it when people make assumptions about where I was born (Japan, Cuba, Spain, and Samoa have been the most amusing), thus I won't make guesses. I thought that although SS was by no means fluent, having me spouting Spanish since we met, watching TV/movies in Spanish (to feel less guilty about her tube consumption), along with her awesome pronunciation, would help. I worried that she would feel self-conscious, since she has a history of shutting down when asked things she darn well knows.  P is his usual confident self, because contrary to performance, JJ and SS are the smartest creatures ever. That leaves me with the pragmatic role, and sometimes it sucks.  Such is life...

When we arrived this morning I noticed a young mom looking at SS, as her son was talking to her. She came up to me and asked SS's name. Her son had been talking about "my best friend, a cool girl, and we play pirates during recess." Yep, that would be our daughter. SS has been talking about a boy friend that she plays with, but could not recall his name.  K is her play buddy, and we introduced ourselves. K's mom, N, said that when he pointed out SS, she thought it could not be, she looked so tiny and feminine. I assured N that in "real life" SS is a skulls and bones, super hero, dark side, Darth Vader, evil loving girl. K & SS played, then B sort of joined them. He just stood between them. Interesting... K & SS left to play (a first this week), and N and I chatted for a while.  When K & SS spotted their teacher they came to us, said goodbye, then K took SS's hand in his and they walked to their teacher. O, one of the boys in SS's class (he has the coolest skulls and bones shirts and digs SS), was not amused by the hand holding and made it clear. Dude, had no idea there would be drama in kinder. I bid goodbye to N, texted P about the cuteness and went home.

When I returned to pick up SS, I saw N looking towards the classroom. She distractedly said hi, and kept her eye on the classroom. I saw the kids come out, then N said, what are you doing, that is not your backpack. She then turned to me and said, Oh, it's SS's. Huh? K left his backpack at school one day and since, his parents have made sure he remembers. K picked up SS's backpack, and held it for her to put on her back. Again, HUH? K then got his backpack and lined up.

AWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWW, how cute is that?

Have you ever had one of those moments when you find something cute, amusing, hilarious, foretelling, or all around wonderful and smile? Once in the van I texted P about the cute moment, all smiles about a five year old boy's gentlemanly nature. And as I pressed send, my brain began to function again. What the heck? SS is in freaking kindergarten, she is five. Why is some boy picking up her backpack and holding it for her? We are well aware that SS pushes people's "mommy buttons," but this is a boy. A five year old boy who should think of girls as yucky, really yucky, and full of cooties.  P and I are not looking forward to SS's teen years and dating. Maybe when she is 35...

Thursday's outfit with a dose of D-O-G loving. SS has been more lovey with her dog in the mornings this week. When I purchased the skirt, I initially passed on the blouse, just not my style. And it's white, and children and white do not mix. Then I reconsidered, added the blouse (thinking) for the grandmothers, and forgot about it. P forwarded me Nana's comment about the outfit, and I had a good chuckle. She liked the ribbons, the part I was unsure about (but I am a bad Hispanic when it comes to fashion). Her Nana and Abuela loved the ribbon. I texted P that his mother has a Hispanic gene. Nana and Abuela have very similar tastes in girls clothing. 

Our big girl this morning.

Getting the sillies out before school.

Don't know why, but SS really liked her hair clip and asked me to take a picture.

K is the taller boy with short hair, B (longer hair) just had to join in their fun, as in right in between them. K then whisked SS away to play elsewhere.