I spent some time cleaning the upstairs bedrooms in anticipation of my mom coming for a quick visit. I want her to believe I clean it regularly, so it's taking a lot of time. And then I notice that I'm up against a mess I had not anticipated.
OC has an interesting sorting method best described with words like random and haphazard. Of special note is the way she takes and places one of her 271 plastic necklaces into each of her 98 purses. The leftover necklaces she puts in various other places, but never in the SAME CONTAINER. It makes my whole face twitch to think about it. I don't get it, I really don't. That, and the way she hangs onto things because EVERYTHING IS SPECIAL. Things like, wrappers and packaging. I want to tell her nothing is special when everything is special, but I'm afraid that would be too much reality for a six-year old's world, so I refrain. And then I twitch.
The other thing going on is that OC is learning to play the piano. Before she takes formal lessons, her father is teaching her the basics so we don't have to pay $70 an hour for her to learn simple things like which notes are which.
I so love this haircut, mostly for the extra bits of neck I can see and therefore attack with my face, by which I mean kissing, because look at that neck!
One day, she'll be too old for outward displays of affection but until then - and as long as I have to sort necklaces every few weeks back into their separate containers like I'm pretty sure the Bible says they must - I'll take what I can get.