Chloe received this great costume as a birthday present. I love it. It doesn’t take up any space, and it doesn’t require me to dig deep into the very small reserve of patience that I have for arts & crafts projects.

This is what Chloe was wearing when I returned home this evening. She was sprawled out on the couch with a big mermaid smile on her face.

My only quibble with the costume is that she can’t really wear it for Halloween unless we happen to be in Disney World (or some other tropical venue), which is about as likely to happen as our winning the lottery, which is impossible because we never buy tickets.

I often wonder how much longer she’ll be willing to dress up in these funny costumes. She turns 7 tomorrow. One more year, maybe two? At least we’ll have them for Sophie. A nice consolation, because I LOVE coming home from work to such cuteness and innocence and happiness.

Chloe is celebrating her 7th birthday with a swim party tomorrow. We’re expecting 18 kids to go crazy in the pool – and Chloe can barely contain her excitement. What better way to forget it’s January than with a pool party?

Chloe has everything planned out. She put way too much thought into the goody bags. We spent way too much time at the bakery deciding on a cake theme, which is going to be “treasure island.” She went ahead and opened all of the packets of goody bag items, resulting in extras that I can no longer return to the store. This, of course, makes her very happy. Not me.

She’s had her clothes and bathing suit sitting ready on her dresser since Wednesday. She reminded me to pack the cake knife earlier this evening. She’s counted and recounted the goody bags for the last week. She’s reassured friends who aren’t necessarily comfortable in the water that the pool isn’t that deep, and if they’re really nervous, they can come just for the cake.

I have no doubt that she would drive herself to the party if she could. She would sleep at the pool if she could. The problem is that the party isn’t until tomorrow afternoon – so you can imagine what we’re going to have to endure in the 8 hours between her waking up in the morning and her greeting friends at the pool. “How much longer?” “Seven hours.” “AAAAHHHHH. That’s so long!” Stomping feet. Huffing and puffing. I think I’ve sketched a pretty clear picture.

It’s going to be a long day. I better check our aspirin inventory.

I don’t remember much surrounding the circumstances of this photo. I know it was taken on a weekday morning, when I was snapping pictures of Sophie and Chloe to get some new images for my blogging.

I don’t think Sophie was angry about the flash in her eyes. And I don’t think she was channeling Jekyll & Hyde like she’s done in the past. In fact, I seem to recall that she was in a pretty happy mood.

Come to think of it, Sophie makes lots of funny faces. Those of you who have explored this blog before know that she’s given us some real doozies.

I like this picture. OK, it’s not particularly flattering. But it’s great for future extortion purposes (“Eat your broccoli, or I’ll send this photo over the AP Wire, with the headline ‘Psycho Toddler Runs Amok.'”). Most important, this photo makes us laugh.

I can think of some good captions. “Mommy, your sunny morning personality is blinding me.” “Chloe, do you really think this household revolves around you? Come on, get real! I am the center of this universe.” “Papa, you’re really bald. Wow. Balder than my butt cheeks.”

Enough of this silliness. It’s time for our dinner.

Chloe and Sophie live in the same house and have rooms on the same floor. But that’s not good enough for them…Chloe especially. Chloe is obsessed with having sleepovers.

She’s only had two of them in her short kid life. But she loves them. In both instances, we hosted the extended playdate and they were great fun for Chloe and her friends. Every couple of weeks she asks about having another sleepover, and we have promised that we would try to arrange another one in the near future.

In the meantime, however, Chloe wants to have a sleepover with Sophie. This poses an interesting challenge. Sophie still sleeps in a crib. Even if Sophie slept in a bed, Chloe’s bed is a twin size bed. And Chloe can’t join Sophie in Sophie’s room or vice versa, because we don’t have an aerobed.

I suppose we could eventually let the girls sleep upstairs in the attic where there’s a double bed. Or we could invest in some sleeping bags. I’m glad they love each other so much that they want to have sleepovers together. Sophie doesn’t know what sleepover means, but she’s happy to enthusiastically support any of Chloe’s suggestions.

Now that I think of it, however, Chloe should think twice about insisting on a sleepover with Sophie right now. Unless Chloe is willing to be startled awake in the dead of night by Sophie’s earth-shattering night terror screams. Be careful what you wish for, my big girl.

Sophie loves to eat. Eating makes her happy and joyful. Especially after dinner.

The pre- and post-meal contrast is startling. Before sitting down for her last meal of the day, she is usually horrendously cranky, which is not surprising – she is a toddler after all. But get some food into her, and she’s a new person. Tonight’s meal was couscous and chicken. She loved the couscous – it reminds her of rice. And like rice, couscous is messy and fun to eat. She left a trail of it all over the table, her chair and on the floor. I’m sure there was plenty of it between her toes as well.

After finishing her plate, she made the rounds of our plates, and helped herself to some more of the yummy grains. Once she had had enough, she started jumping. All over the dining room, all over the kitchen. She’s really starting to master the art of testing gravity – I don’t remember Chloe being so proficient at jumping when she was Sophie’s age.

Every night is the same. Sophie eats, Sophie’s happy. Sophie eats, Sophie sings. Sophie eats, Sophie dances and jumps. You get my point. It’s nice to know that we can rely on Sophie to bring smiles to our faces once she’s sated. Go Sophie!