Dance Class

All the fantasies I entertained of having a daughter have so far played out to the fullest, and with added gusto, thanks to the living, breathing cartoon character that is my daughter. In fact, as we speak, she is clomping around the house in plastic heels and several layers of glittery pink dresses. She addresses me as Erika and refuses to answer to anything but Analise (both names you would recognize if you had a library of Barbie movies as we do). And just a moment ago when I told her I was going to bring the baby upstairs to bed, she brought me my pretend horse for transportation. What could I do but ride it? I'm so grateful to her for being exactly what I imagined she would be. Unlike most things in life, I expected this. I pictured us dressing up and twirling around and singing Disney songs, princess style, at the top of our lungs. I don't NEED her to gush and ooze girliness, but she just happens to, and it's SO fun. She just started a little ballet class at the rec center a couple weeks ago. Here are some pictures of that, as well as a stop we made at the park after class one day.