On Pink Sparkly Nail Polish

Back in the days when I was footloose and fancy free (ahem, childless), one of my favorite evening activities was to give myself manicures and pedicures. I think it started the summer Mike was working in Puerto Rico - I rented every season of "Sex and the City" and spent all those cold, lonely nights re-watching my favorite show and soaking my feet in a big tub of warm, soapy water and filing my nails. Yes, yes, I'm aware that there are nail salons available for this very thing, but for some reason I just sort of like doing it myself. (Also, I always seem to get cut by the poor nail technicians. I've determined I must have thin skin, but nonetheless I'm kind of terrified of contracting a horrible, flesh-eating disease.)

As you can imagine, this sort of activity is kind of difficult when there is a toddler running around. But on Friday night, with a baby shower to attend the next day and the weather heating up (also, maybe some gentle nudging from my sister), I decided a pedicure was in order totally and completely necessary if I ever wanted to show my feet in public again. And so it was that our little family (Mike included!) found ourselves huddled on the couch with our feet soaking while we watched "March of the Penguins" and Anna and I poured over the polish colors in my stash. Fun family times, right?

While trying to paint Anna's toes proved to be one of the most infuriating tasks I've taken on as a mother, it really had me thinking a lot about having a daughter. Before I ever had kids, and even up until the moment Anna was born and Mike declared, "It's a girl!", I was pretty convinced I was destined to be the mother to boys. I'm not really sure why, but for some reason it was all I could picture, even though I grew up with only one sister. I can remember getting a package from my mom in the mail for my birthday when I was pregnant with Anna and it was filled with knitting needles and yarn and other fun sewing and crafting goodies and it was the first time I thought to myself that I might be a little sad if I never had a daughter, because then who would I send crafty care packages to? And now I'm pretty convinced that I'm destined to be the mother to all girls - which is basically me confessing that now that I have a daughter, the idea of a baby with little boy parts scares the crap out of me.

I know, without a doubt, that Mike never expected to be spending a Friday night up to his shins in bubbles and shouting, "Pedicure Party!" while his daughter and wife debated the merits of pink sparkles. But I also know that Mike and Anna share one of the most amazing and natural relationships I've ever witnessed, even though sparkly things are high on her list and not-so-high on his. I suppose being a parent is like many things in life - you have no idea what to expect, and then you just learn as you go, even if it's not what you planned or imagined.

But watching the man you love throw his idea of a good time out the window to appease the little girl you adore, you can sure feel a lot better about knowing that no matter what, it's going to be amazing.

Especially if you have a fresh pedicure.

Mike took this picture one evening out in the yard.

What was going on while I was at the aforementioned baby shower.

Playing ball with Dada.