Well, I think she may have gotten her wish. Maybe times two. It is still to soon to say about Carly, but one thing we know for sure:
My oldest is my little Mini-Me.
Bossy. Chatty. Sensitive. Stubborn.
Doesn't miss or forget a thing. Like seriously - the hearing of a wild dog and the memory of an elephant.
Loves Sesame Street, Muppets, My Little Pony, Strawberry Shortcake, making a good crafty mess, and chocolate.
And those big blue eyes?? The ones she uses to work Daddy?
Yeah, those are mine, too.
We have a quilt that my mom made for me on my second birthday, 28 years ago. It has Strawberry Shortcake on it - the original SS, not the cute trendy one we watch daily on The Hub channel. Hayden has recently decided that she likes that quilt. A lot. She hauls it all over the place.
This morning Hayden and Carly were playing around with the blanket. All was going well until Hayden noticed some spit-up in her sister's mouth.
Well, Hoot has this issue - which, incidentally, she also inherited from yours truly. We are sympathetic pukers. We see puke and we join in. We cannot help ourselves. After many years of life as a sympathetic puker, I have learned to control it.
It usually takes a full-on barf to make me gag.
Or the sound of someone barfing.
Or a super scary diaper.
Or dog poop.
(Okay, maybe I am in the wrong profession. LOL)
But my poor little Mini-Me - she gags at the smallest sign of anything. Spit-up, slobber, snot, a tiny dab of poop in a diaper. This is an issue when you have a pukey, slobbery, snotty, pooping little baby sister around.
Usually, she just gags.
But this morning, the sight of that spit-up in her sister's mouth was too much to bear. She saw that spit up and she gagged and barfed. (Yes, this is where I started to gag, too. LOL We are a mess.) It was just a little bit, but to her horror, she barfed on the coveted Strawberry blanket.
I assured her (while gagging and thanking God that it all landed on the blanket and not on her or her sister or the carpet or whatever) that it surely wasn't the first time that the Strawberry blanket had been puked on and we would just wash it.
So I stuck it in the washer.
Which lead to another one of my traits surfacing -
she cried because her blanket was in the wash.
I was a hardcore blanket baby myself, and I have vivid memories of standing by the washing machine/dryer, like a total sad sack waiting for my beloved blanket "Sam" to be clean.
Just like this:
She is not happy with me. Strawberry with be clean in no time, but when you are two, it feels like forever.
I know this to be true, Hayden, because I have been where you are. I too am a gagging mess who has clung to the side of a washing machine waiting forever because my mean old mom cared more that my blanket was clean than I did.
And, you know what, little Owlet?
I hope that someday,
you are lucky like me
and you have a daughter
just like you. :-)