She Is My Sunshine

Lara and I had fun today playing outside.  I decided it was time for me to stop feeling cloistered in my house; over the winter I hardly ever even opened the curtains, and there were days when I didn't step outside.  Now that the weather is gorgeous, I'm going to make a greater effort to spend time outside every day.  This morning I took Christian's forlorn beach towel onto our back patio so we could sit without getting dirty.  We blew bubbles and talked about all the ants crawling around us and sang "The Itsy Bitsy Spider."  We listened to airplanes and geese {which I think were actually crows} and collected sticks to poke in the bubbles.  Lara also ran in circles around me.  She thought it was hilarious, enough to not mind my taking her picture:

But Then...

I know I post about my adorable niece almost too often, to the point that this is almost turning into a mommy blog.  I always figured I wouldn't have a mommy blog until I actually was a mommy, and then it would be forgivable, because everyone {I'm sure} would want to know all about my kids all the time.  It seems like having a mommy blog when you're not a mommy is supremely obnoxious, and I apologize.  I'll try to post more about me-and-Christian things, and less about... less about... I can't do it.  I don't want to have a mommy blog, but I feel like I can't help it when there's this:

Don't you just want to eat her up?  With the little buns on the top of her head, and her princess t-shirt?  She's brushing her teeth with her Dora the Explorer toothbrush.  It's too cute.  The other day I was laying her down to change her diaper, and I kissed her feet, and she said, "Why you kiss my feet, Mimi?"  And I said, "Because I love your little feet."  And she said, "Yes, I love your big feet, too, Mimi."  And it melted my heart, because my feet are big adult feet, not tiny pudgy baby feet.

So whatevs, people who are tired of hearing about Baby Lara.  I love being her nother mother, and I love sharing adorable pictures of her.  The End.

Pink Toe*

Lara and I took some time today and painted her toes a lovely shade of pink {her choice}:

 

When I tried to take a picture, however, she would not hold still, and since I refuse to use our camera's flash, every picture came out blurry.  "You have to hold perfectly still," I said, about fifteen times.  I would even demonstrate for her, holding my hands on my knees, my fingers extended and motionless.  "You have to hold still.  You can't move at all.  The pictures are blurry right now."  "I want to see blurly," she said.  But showing her the unfocused pictures I'd already taken had no impact.

I think maybe she couldn't comprehend holding perfectly still.  I think she felt the attention on her and squirmed to relieve the sense of pressure, because her toes, especially, were in constant motion.  I tried holding them down, even, while snapping the picture, but anything less than painful force {I'm guessing} was insufficient to keep her still.  Finally, I found a position that worked for us:

*The title of this post refers to an inside joke that Laura {my little Lara's mother} and I shared when we were both little.  We had these phrases that we could say, at any moment, and for any length of time, and it would make the other laugh hysterically.  Phrases like "pink toe," "Telly," and "elbow" {pronounced "el-a-bow"}.  It's a phenomenon that remains, to this day, completely inexplicable.  My three-year-old self would give you the same answer as my 23-year-old self, which is that we just thought they sounded funny.