Sunday, April 29, 2012


This coming week should be fairly busy and that will be the norm for a couple of months.  Jorja has piano lessons on Monday, Ginny starts soccer on Tuesday and Jorja has skating on Wednesday.  Fun, fun, fun.  Hopefully the 10 degree and rain forecast for Tuesday changes - could be a chilly start to soccer.  Jorja's second skating lesson last week was better than her first.  She got grouped in with a slower group and had more fun and more gentle falls. 
We were doing some shopping yesterday and ended up spending some time in the mall.  Julie managed to get the two older girls in for a haircut (which they loved!), so CeCe and I had to hang out for a bit.  We spent most of the time doing this:

It's amazing how long that can be entertaining (I didn't even have a loonie to put into it) and the tantrum that can ensue when it's over.  After the haircuts, we walked though SportCheck.  Jorja quickly informed me that this was boring.  I told her that it was boring for me when she was getting her hair cut and that we have to take turns doing what other people want.  (It was actually Julie who wanted to go through SportCheck, so I'm not sure why I got blamed.)  Anyway, she stopped, looked up at me, and said, "Dad, we're girls!  You'll have to get used to it!"  Alright then.  I just didn't realize I'd have to get used to it this soon.

Ginny has a couple of LaLaLoopsy dolls.  I'm not sure when or where this brand came from, but the girls seemed to know about it instantly.  CeCe calls them LaLaSoupy dolls.  The other day in the aftermath of bathtime, Ginny was getting her PJs on, Jorja was getting her hair brushed and CeCe was disciplining LaLaSoupy.  Yes that's right.  She took her over to her 'corner' and sat her down there.  "You go to the corner LaLaSoupy!  Sit!"  She left the doll there for a few minutes and then went back over and picked it up.  "You say sorry?"  Then she carried the doll across the room and said, "Sorry Ginny.  Sorry Ginny.  Sorry Ginny."  (You can tell who CeCe usually has to say sorry to.)  I guess even at two years of age, s#*t rolls downhill.  Later.

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