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I bet it will only get worse and she’ll want to drive and vote, too.

In recent months**, a change has begun to come over Aura: The girl who very rarely cared what she was wearing on any given day has begun to care. A lot more. And much more vocally. Specifically, she has started to express fervent and frequent concern that there are not enough sequins in her wardrobe***, at least not as many sequins as worn by other girls in her class, and also she wants me to know she’s very interested in sequins. (P.S.: Sequins.)

Now, I am well aware that sequins aren’t exactly the gateway drug to selling your wares on a street corner, yet an eensy part of me wonders if they are a gateway to those wretched sweatpants with “PRINCESS” spelled out on the bum. And, yes, it probably is time to admit that jeggings can’t be the only fun thing in a seven-year-old’s wardrobe and that perkily delivered statements like “Just LOOK at how cute that 60s-inspired sundress from Gymboree/Crazy 8/the Hanna Anderson outlet is!” really aren’t doing a damn thing to keep her from getting any older. As it was, I issued strict ultimatums about how she was NOT to turn four, five, six, or seven, yet here we are PLUS she wants to start shopping at “stores like Justice” because apparently that’s what everyone else does because their mothers allow it and probably also allow, you know, skipping flossing before bed and, hell, going to bed altogether. And if those mothers do make their kids go to bed, they make sure they’re tucked in wearing sequined nightgowns.

Anyway, Aura swears up and down that she flipped through a Justice catalog at a friend’s house recently (mental note: egg that house) and there were “things in there that you would like, Mommy. There was even a dress with polka dots!”

So, for all of my fellow fuddy-duddies out there, let it be known: We may be anti-seqin all the way, but we are downright fools for polka dots.

(The more I think about it, the more it makes sense. Whenever the Hooker with a Probable Heart of Gold bites it in a crime/thriller movie, she’s never wearing polka dots.)

(You get one guess as to what she IS wearing, though. Right? RIGHT.)

(And to think that Adam was so judgey about all those “hours of my life” I was “wasting” watching Vin Diesel/Jason Statham movies. It’s not like I just know a lot about streetwalkers now, either. I can tell you bunches about Foolish Bank Robberies Gone Wrong, How to Look Emotional When Your Childhood Friend and Fellow Thief is Tragically Shot By Police and You Survive, and, most importantly, the nuances of Never Falling in Love with the Ravishing Detective Tasked to Track You Down. So there, Adam. TAKE THAT.)

But back to the subject at hand, which is not really a subject at all, but: Wheee! Blogging! Like riding a bike!

I have promised Aura that we will go to Justice within the next few weeks to peruse possibilities for her spring wardrobe. She is very pleased and promised to stay away from most of the leopard print, especially if it’s leopard print patterned with sequins. Because I’m pretty sure she knows I’ll either die on the spot from my geriatric fashion tendencies or lock in her room for the term of forever and ever times infinity. As a final nod to her wishes, however, I’ll make sure the padlock is covered with, well…you get it.

**Why, yes! We are indeed totally and utterly glossing right over the fact that many other things have happened in recent months. Of course, not many of you would know these things because I was busy becoming the World’s Worst Blogger. But, er, second-child-trouble-adjusting-New-England-winters-heck-New-England-summers-also-LOOK!-a-sleeve-of-Thin-Mints-very-busy.

***It’s not like there aren’t any sequins in her wardrobe. For the purpose of this post, I did a mental count and I can name two sweatshirts and two pairs of jeans that have sequins (ha!), as well as two shirts from her grandmother. BECAUSE IT’S ALWAYS GRAMMY WHO’S THE FUN ONE.

If you ignore the whole “pen” thing, it’s entirely humane.


When Aura was a baby and I’d complain about having to keep a constant eye on her, my mother would broach the Subject of Playpens. “When you were a baby, I just put you in your playpen. You were happy there!” she’d reminisce, as I rolled my eyes at the folly of former generations. “MOM….

How to Not Buy a Nursing Bra, or (and this is my preferred title) How Not to Kill the Twentysomethings

mixing oatmeal with formula

Despite the fact that I have been making dire threats for months now about how This Nursing Thing IS Coming to an End So Help Me God, I’m still breastfeeding. Honestly, the combination of already being at home with Jax and the fact that I nursed Aura for over a year makes the guilt so…strongish that…

Let’s hear it for oatmeal, yo. (Also: peas and sweet potatoes. Oh! And prunes. Let us not forget the prunes.)

first time in high chair

Hello, hello, Internets! Hope these past, erm, let’s-call-them “many’ months have found you well, and that 2013 is going splendidly for everybody. Wow. I’m going to have to congratulate myself this time, for though I have taken breaks from blogging here and there in the past, I’ve never treated myself to a whopping four-plus months…

We (I) interrupt our (my) regularly scheduled complaining to allow someone (me) to clamber pudgily onto a Jessica-Simpson-on-Weight-Watchers soapbox.

Know anyone who recently gained about 38ish pounds during her pregnancy? No? Oh. Uh, neither do I. Yes, so I am back on Weight Watchers (the nursing moms version), a regimen that has always worked for me in the past, mostly for five-to-ten pound losses/maintenance, except for when I started, a dark blip in my…

Man ALIVE this blog is dusty. Someone get on that. I nominate the newborn.

Before I begin: Thank you, everyone, for the wonderful congratulatory comments and e-mails. They provided many smiles those first weeks. Hello. My name is Kate and I am a blog ignorer. (Also, I apparently make up words. It’s funner that way.) Who knew that when you went and had a second baby you’d immediately become…

And then there were two. (Alternate title: WHY DID NO ONE PROPERLY WARN ME ABOUT BOYS AND DIAPER CHANGES)

Jax at hospital

Everyone, I’d like you to meet Jax. All 8 pounds, 15 ounces of him popped into the outside world at 10:27 p.m. on July 22, right on his due date. Adam and I feel blessed beyond belief. As for Jax, well, I think we can sum things up in this way: THINGS JAX LIKES 1….

I’m having nightmares about wall decals. (Alternate title: This will show that overexposed Paul McCartney.)

nursery in progress kind of

Hello! Howdy! Bonjour et salut et all that! For those of you wondering why I bother to have a blog at all if I’m going to just let it fester for over a month without updating it, I say to you: IT WAS ALL AN EXPERIMENT. AND YOU AND I TOTALLY FELL FOR IT. You’d…

Now I’m wondering whether the blow-up doll can somehow recycle into a baby toy.

blow-up doll for bachelorette parties

I’ve been kind of swamped with our perky little business lately (holla, fellow suffering small business owners!), but I have managed to fit in some Very Important Baby Preparation Tasks (holla, 28 weeks!) in the past four days. To be precise, I have: Gone to a bachelorette party. Nothing like a bachelorette party when you’re…

Just wait until I decide she should start college at age 13. The gossip will SURGE.

desire for nintendo ds 3d

You know, I am aware that in this blog I am often, shall we say, determinedly unsentimental when it comes to Moments in Parenting. To be honest, I’m a touch determinedly unsentimental in person, too. I’ve never been one of those “Look at my kid! Isn’t she so adorable!” mothers, even though I may think…