Lizzy didn't want to wear brown pants, "today or EVER!", because she thought it would make her "look like a boy." (horrors!) Recently, we borrowed some blue jammies from our friends down the street (I'll get 'em back to you eventually, Dee!), and she looked so darn cute, it was insane. But I'm having a hard time translating the "sometimes, boy clothes make you look even more girly!" principle of overalls/dressing as a baseball player for Halloween concept to almost-5-year-old language.
Speaking of: Last night, I stayed up late filling out birthday invites for Lizzy's pool party next month. Whew! Now we're COMMITTED to doing it. In some ways, it feels scarier than sending out the wedding invites. It's the first event of any size I've attempted since the wedding, and it's giving me hives, a little. What if it all goes horribly wrong? Well, then a bunch of parents grumble, and go home. We're out a few hundred bucks. Oh, well. Man, have I mentioned how I NEVER write any more? With my hand, I mean? No wonder my shoulders are all hunched and sore today.
Thirdly, and most importantly: After a freekin' year, Matt's company was informed that the government is indeed picking up their contract. He will have a job (barring other disasters, of course -- what's the online equivalent of knocking on wood?) for four more years! HALLELUJAH.
(so, God -- is it a good month to grant the fertility prayers? That's my vote, if I get one.)