"School's closed -- too bad!"


So the sunny girl is feeling particularly sunny on this snowy day, because we just read those happy, happy words: "Prince William County Schools -- CLOSED, Code Red."

Of course, gone are the days when she would spend tomorrow sledding or wishing we had gotten enough snow for a big snowman. Instead my girl will sleep, then have some tea, and fool around on Tumblr, then sleep some more. 

Aren't you jealous?

+ + + + + + + 



In honor of our first snowy day -- which, let's be real, has really been more of an ice/sleet day -- here is a beautiful book: Dream Snow, by Eric Carle. This charming story tells about a farmer who, on Christmas Eve, dreams of a white wonderland. Little ones will have fun finding the farmer's animals, hidden under the snow -- and will love helping the farmer give his surprise gift to his animals on Christmas Day. 

Nostalgia in advance

 

So we're getting ready to do some painting around here. 

It should come as no surprise that "getting ready" has a very sketchy meaning for the husband and me.  We "get ready" for household projects by daydreaming about what we want, and then going out for a cup of coffee, and then maybe a month or two later wondering how much it will cost, and then cracking open another bottle of wine, and then stumbling across a paint sample or two, and then going away on a business trip . . . .


 

The girl in charge figured us out a long time ago, and thus is the only member of the family whose room has been painted to her specifications.  And it was a lot of work for both her and me -- work that involved geometry, y'all.



This summer I plan to paint my bedroom, the sunny girl's new(ish) bedroom, and the little roomlet she used to sleep in when she was not yet a 5'10 ballerina.  The roomlet will become an place for me to stash my work-related stuff (part-time faculty have no office privileges where I work).  Right now I keep all my crap in the back of my car.   I'm excited to make a little office for myself, and as usual I have all kinds of unrealistic expectations about how fabulously perfect it will be.  But at the same time, I will be sad to see the sunny girl's little roomlet go.  It means saying good-bye to some of her "little girl"-ness -- and: the room is so stinkin' cute!
 


The four-year-old sunny girl's roomlet was decorated for her by Grandma Carol, right after we moved into our house in 2001.  Grandma Carol has a great eye for what a little girl will like, and she and Grandpa have the motivational oomph to actually get a project done instead of just dreaming about it.  So the sunny girl's little room was a tiny ballerina's dream come true!



Check it out:  the flowers all over the walls were created by first using a big rubber stamp and some craft paint (that's the lavender colored basic flower).  Then Grandma went back over each flower several times freestyle, adding the pink detail, the white outline, and the swirly yellow center.  The random blue swirlies were "to give it a little color pop."  Just as I was oohing and ahhing about how cute the room was, Grandma got out her glue gun and attached flat pink glass marbles to the centers of all the flowers.  I mean . . . .  And you see how she instructed Grandpa to paint the walls flat pink, and then add a stripe of glossy pink of the same shade, right?  Grandma Carol created a lovely little room for my sunny girl that could be out of a magazine.



The kicker for the four-year-old, though, was the chandelier.


Snapshot: the best hair glamour


The sunny girl did it again:  right before Christmas, she got a sassy new haircut!  Her adorable bob swings to just below her chin, and she feels so easy breezy as she goes about her day.  And the best part is that she was able to donate eleven inches of beautiful hair to LOCKS OF LOVE, the fabulous non-profit organization that uses these donations to create wigs for children who have suffered hair loss.

The sunny girl is the Jo March of her generation! --
She came walking in with a very queer expression of countenance, for there was a mixture of fun and fear, satisfaction and regret in it, which puzzled the family as much as did the roll of bills she laid before her mother, saying with a little choke in her voice, "That's my contribution toward making Father comfortable and bringing him home!"
     "My dear, where did you get it? Twenty-five dollars! Jo, I hope you haven't done anything rash."
     "No, it's mine honestly. I didn't beg, borrow, or steal it. I earned it, and I don't think you'll blame me, for I only sold what was my own." As she spoke, Jo took off her bonnet, and a general outcry arose, for all her abundant hair was cut short.
      "Your hair! Your beautiful hair! Oh, Jo, how could you? Your one beauty. My dear girl, there was no need of this. She doesn't look like my Jo any more, but I love her dearly for it."  As everyone exclaimed, and Beth hugged the cropped head tenderly, Jo assumed an indifferent air, which did not deceive anyone a particle, and said, rumpling up the brown bush and trying to look as if she liked it, "It doesn't affect the fate of the nation, so don't wail, Beth. It will be good for my vanity, I getting too proud of my wig. It will do my brains good to have that mop taken off. My head feels deliciously light and cool, and the barber said I could soon have a curly crop, which will be boyish, becoming, and easy to keep in order. I'm satisfied, so please take the money and let's have supper."
                                                                            Little Women, Chapter 15:  "A Telegram"
                                                                            -- Louisa May Alcott, 1868-69