Really? Am I really supposed to already suffer the angst of time. Of age. Of…change?
Other than the amazing camera on my iphone, I haven’t really taken any photos since my surgery. It’s too hard to manage my big old Canon with only one lame hand. I’ve managed to get some really good shots with Instagram, and yesterday I looked at a photo of Coco and about had a heart attack.
What is my BABY girl doing in a halter dress? What’s wrong with this picture?
You (judging reader): “Well, Dina Lohan, I mean, Hillary, you dressed her. You’re in charge…For now.”
Freaking Dina Lohan has been in my mind all day ever since I saw some blasted column in a stupid People’s magazine. (For the record, I do not subscribe to this magazine. It was in the doctor’s office.) And I know Lindsey Lohan and her shenanegans is (are? plural? why cant I remember this?) old news, but for a mama, this can never lose its bite.
I’m not really worried about this halter dress. Although we did have one moment where she managed to untie it. And pull it off. On the playground.
So maybe she wont wear it again.
The fact remains, two years ago, THIS is what she was.
Now I just have Chauceman. I don’t mean “just.” Its “just” that… I cant put him in a bonnet. Nor should I.
|the duck towel is bad enough.|
I’m so thankful I have a baby in my home. But I’m freaking out. Cause my BABY girl is growing up. Gosh dang it.
|Disclaimer: She doesn’t really know how to ride a bike. She just thinks she does. She posed for me and said she was “like Dada.” Such a big girl.|
Time to go buy a bonnet…anything that makes her look small again. This halter top is giving me nightmares of the teen years and beyond. Sniff sniff.