Don't Waste the Sun

Today I asked Hannah to open the curtains in the dining room and then to turn off the lights. "Why?", she asked, in keeping with her constant need to question every utterance, sight, thought, fleeting feelings, etc.

"Well," I answered, "We don't want to waste the lights. So if we open the curtains, we can let the sun in and then we won't need to have the lights on."

She thought for a minute, and then replied, "But we don't want to waste the sun!"

I started to explain the concept of renewable resources, but then decided simply to agree with her. Don't waste the sun. It sounds like good advice, in its own right.

Off With Her Hair!

Hannah's hair had begun to become unruly; yet, I was hesitant to have it cut. After all, those were her baby curls. It was long, and often looked messy. It was hard to comb, and looked awful if it wasn't pulled into tightly controlled pony tails. Still... to cut it off? The thought filled me with mixed emotions. It definitely needed it, but I didn't want to do it. Her long hair was part of who she was. And again, those curls - she'd had that hair since she was a baby!

Alas, we finally made the appointment and cut off a good 5 inches. And it didn't even hurt. I'm ashamed to admit it, but part of me thought I might actually cry. In the end, I hardly blinked. And really, it looks so much better! I might have a tinge of nostalgia for her long locks (mostly because my own hair has never managed to grow past a certain length), but in the end, I'm glad we did it. Actually, I kind of wish we'd done it sooner. Like years sooner.

Finally, because some people have bemoaned the lack of pictures with this blog, I am including before and after shots (taken by salon staff). Unfortunately, you can't really see how long her hair was in the before shot. But take my word for it, when wet, it reached her waist.

Cue the Hallelujah Chorus

I can hardly believe I'm writing this, but it appears Hannah is potty trained! Over the Christmas break, she started voluntarily sitting on the toilet (skip the potty - as per her Ph.D. research, she wanted the real thing). Then one day she peed on it and told Scott that was his Christmas present. Then, using her camel-esque bladder, she started staying dry all day despite not going to the bathroom until late afternoon. We don't even have to ask/remind her to use the toilet. She just gets up and goes as needed. And today, she dressed herself, including underwear. Underwear! I had to act nonchalant, but imagine, if you will, the silent rejoicing.

So it's done. And in the end, she didn't need us at all. Almost too easy, if you don't count the previous half a year (or more) of me hoping, stressing, cajoling, etc. If you erase the memories of the Helen Keller episodes, the underwear fakes, and all the other devastating missteps leading to this point.

And to all the people who said, "Relax. It will happen. Nobody goes to kindergarten in diapers." - you were right. I didn't believe it and, to be honest, I'm still pinching myself!