"Excuse me, are you a queen?"

Rachie attends a story time that she loves and call her library school.  The story time is excellent and is more of a class than what you would think of as a typical story time.  The teacher loves my little girl.  They read many fun stories together that follow a theme and have an excellent craft to go with it.  You have to sign up for one of the age-appropriate groups in order to register and attend.  I am able to drop Rachel off and come back 45 minutes later.

I had the most flattering question asked to me today that I have heard.  It was from a little girl that participates in Miss R's story time.  She asked me, "Excuse me, are you a queen?"  It took me a while to figure out where on Earth that was coming from.  Then I realized it was because Rachie was wearing one of her fanciest dress ups to her school and she told her friends while I was gone that she was a real princess.  So I asked the little girl if she was wondering if Rachie was a real princess.  The little girl told me that is what Rachie said.  I told her that Rachie is a real princess, but that she was one too.  And that I believed that all girls were princesses.  This answer didn't satisfy her.  She asked me, "Do you live in a castle?"

Rachie loves her nicknames.  I can't stop using so many nicknames for my children.  I think it is so natural to me because that is the way I grew up.  She loves to tell others her nicknames.  Some of them are Sweetest, Sweetest of Beetest, Na Darling, Squirrel of a Girl.

I was taking pictures of my two youngest children at the park.  I looked down to delete the pictures that I didn't want to keep.  When I looked back up Mister Twister was on top of the play structure nude.  He hates clothes, especially if they get wet.  The play structures were damp this morning.  I told him to come back, but he just kept running away from me.

Later on in the afternoon he had an accident.  It was a very stinky one, but luckily he had a pull-up on.  I asked him if he had an accident.  He looked at me, put his finger to his lips, scowled, and said, "Shhhh!"  When we got home before I could change his, he had started to take off his clothes, get his hands in it, and smear dirty fingers on the wall.  It is hard to explain to others how he got his name Twister.  Sometimes you just have to experience someone to understand.