Amazons

Ethan and I frequently ponder the mystery of how little shrimps like the two of us could have produced daughters of such Amazonian height.  Granted, they may very well plateau at some point and wind up just as short as their parents, but at the moment, it's a little jarring to see how they tower over other children their age.  Case in point: my still 2-year-old daughter is too tall to wear size 3T dresses.  I found one of Julia's toddler dresses in the bin of 3T clothes in the basement a few days ago, and knowing how fond Madeleine is of wearing dresses, I washed it and put it in her dresser.  Today I tried to put it on her, only to discover it barely falls to her upper thigh.  Julia found the whole thing hilarious.  "MAMA!  I see Madeleine's underwear!  MAAAAADELEINE, I can see your UUUUUUNDERWEEEEEAR!"  Madeleine didn't care.  It was the new-to-her dress or bust.  I wound up putting shorts on underneath it so that it was more of an oversized top than a bum-bearing dress.  She seemed perfectly content with this arrangement, so all was well.

That is, until about 3:30 this afternoon.  For some unknown reason, she suddenly unraveled over the fact that her dress is too small.  Vehemently yanking off her shorts and flinging them across the room, she burst into tears over wanting to change into a DIFFERENT DRESS because this dress was TOO TIGHT!!! 

Okay.  So.  I didn't really care whether she changed clothes or not.  I was planning to stick this dress back in the basement bin as soon as I washed it again, anyway.  I don't love when the kids decide to do a million outfit changes a day unnecessarily, but in this case, it wasn't a huge deal.  Apparently it was a huge deal to Madeleine, though.  Every second I wasted going through her dresser drawer to find a different dress upped the ante in her wailing melt-down, leading to her need for a consoling snuggle on her bed once she was in a more appropriately fitted outfit.  At least, I thought she was crying over the dress.  As I tried to distract her by talking about another topic, it turned out her brain was on completely random, unrelated matters.

ME: Madeleine, wasn't it fun down on the Cape yesterday?  We got to see Nana and Gramps, and play with your cousins...
MADELEINE: But Mommy, I don't like SKEKSES.

(Side note: while Julia knows of Skekses from watching "The Dark Crystal," Madeleine has actually never seen this movie and has no idea what Skekses are, aside from the running household joke, started by Julia, that ours is a family of "Loving Skekses.")

ME: You don't like Skekses, huh?  What on earth is making you think of Skekses?
MADELEINE: Because...they're just making me SAD.
ME: Skekses are making you sad??
MADELEINE: Mommy, I can't make the monkey bars so BIGGER, because...
ME: Because what?
MADELEINE: (silence)
ME: You can't make the monkey bars bigger because what?
MADELEINE: (tears suddenly over with, scampering off my lap and running to get a toy and start playing Polly Pockets.)

So.  Yeah.  That was that. 

Julia, luckily, has had no such outfit, Skekse, or monkey bar issues today, and instead is happily occupying herself with such activities as playing in her room, decorating blank paper with her new Halloween stickers from Auntie Shannon, and, of course, watching "The Lorax."  She even spent some time practicing her piano without me prompting her, although I did whip out the video camera to film a bit of her playing through her newest - and dearly beloved - lesson book song.  It's no "How Ba-a-a-a-ad Can I Be?", but she's still pretty attached to this song, titled "Freight Train."  Maybe I'll write an alternate version of the song for Madeleine once she's old enough for lessons, and entitle it "Lousy Train."  Anyway, here is what I managed to catch on video: