I'm sort of struggling with Emma and her refusal to stop growing up.
Look at her, she looks so smug, as if she knows she's 10 going on 21 and there is nothing I can do about it. This week she started 5th grade.
I hate 5th grade.
There are no hair bows in 5th grade. No cute from head to toe, matchy-matchy outfits. No funky tights or cute mary janes. No super cute monogrammed polka dot lunch boxes, those I was told this morning, are so 4th grade ::insert rolling eyes here::
It's really her fault that I'm so depressed about her growing up. She was so much fun to play dress up with even as a baby. She wore tiny baby jewelry, bows and hats. I could dress her up in the morning and she would stay clean and dressed all day. What kind of baby does that? You can't do that to a mom and then decide to give it all up a decade later!
Next week I send the J's off to preschool for the first time ever, then in a few weeks Jones will turn 5. You might want to avoid the blog for the next month or so. I foresee a lot of dismal, depressing posts coming up....
First day of kindergarten (2004)
First day of 5th grade (2009)