Fashion Designers Have our Number

Brigid was her fussy self last night again at bedtime, but I'm thinking she's just tired. With me getting to work by 8 a.m. she's not getting her usual two hours of sleep in bed with me like she had been, and when she wakes at 7:15 or 7:30, there's no mah mah mah to help her doze back to sleep again. So she was very fussy last night but eventually settled into some boob time and was happy to sleepily snuggle with her blanket when I put her in the crib. Before bed, however, she wanted manana but didn't want to eat the manana. She just carried it around with her. When I realized she wanted something to drink, I asked if she wanted milk. She repeated, "Milk?" Yes, I said. Milk. "Milk? Milk? Milk?" So now she has milk in her vocabulary repertoire. On a whim, I put some in a bottle to see what she would do since we really never offered her a bottle very often. She thought it was neat, kind of a novelty. But she drank it down lying on the couch. And she kept saying, "Bah bah bah?" Apparently, the rule of threes applies to just about everything Brigid says.

This morning, she was sleeping when I got up at 7 but by 7:15, she was up so that meant Jack was up, too, because I had to get Margaret to school and then myself to work. We'll see what that means tonight at bedtime, which will be spent at the lake since we're going to be spending the weekend there. Before I left this morning, I asked her if she wanted her bah bah again. She was fascinated and began to cry for it. I gave her milk in the bottle again, and although she drank from it, it seemed again more of a novelty than anything else. That's OK; I don't want her to become dependent on a bottle that I will then have to take away from her, but it's kind of nice to have her just relax on the couch for a few minutes.

Margaret had photo day today at school and she looked very pretty with her hair down and her white eyelett top. I don't know when Patricia's photo day will be. But I'm sure whenever it is, Patricia will be ready for it long in advance, with an outfit picked out. She's more of a fashionista than Margaret ever was, but she's only as fashionista as I'll let her be. I think part of it is because she wasn't at St. Peter's in uniforms as long as Margaret and has had more outside influence than Margaret did at the same age. But the good thing is both girls know how stupid so much of the fashion is out there, and they know how expensive most of it is, too.

Brigid, however, is a slave to fashion. I enjoy the cute outfits I have for her and will continue to do so because it's the last chance to indulge. What's more, Brigid realizes when she looks cute in something. She'll sashay around waiting for us to say, "Oh, look at Brigid; look how cute she is. You're SO beautiful." I'm sure we're setting her up for a fall later in life, but there's nothing like a Baby Gap or Children's Place outfit on an 18-month-old baby girl.