This was my slip when I was little.  I had no idea how to pose like this when I was little.  I was too innocent and pure and naive.

Just kidding.  She totally gets that from me.  I'm a poser.

My mom has pictures of me in this slip and I am quite brown from the summer sun like she is.  Okay, okay, she's red because I didn't reapply her sunscreen.  But normally she's more brown than I ever am or was. 

I wish I had those old photographs to post with these.  Mine were done in front of a mirror in a studio, though, with the white hazy effect of the 80's, and I kind of hope to imitate those some day. 

But "some day's" tend to never come.

Comparing our personalities is much like comparing our photographs, though.  She's not completely like me.  She is and she isn't. 

She can make friends with a lamp post, (and in fact, she made friends with a little girl not even in our group this trip and spent an entire day with her,) but she's not nearly as sensitive as I was when I was little.  She's hard to offend or upset, which means if someone hurts her feelings it makes me MAD.  Because it takes a lot to hurt her. 

She's tough, and sassy...  saucy.  She's saucy.  I like that word.  I learned it when I read Wuthering Heights in high school.  It might be one of my favorite words, and I'm so glad I have a daughter who fits it.

My Aunt Carolyn described her as having a "coy" way about her, which would be another completely perfect description.

(She looks a lot like my baby pictures in this particular one, don't you think, mom?  Nana?) 

She's more girly than I was, though.  I secretly hated pink, and matching mother-daughter clothes, and just clothes in general.  I preferred water-skiing and bike-riding, though I did love my baby dolls.  L-O-V-E-D my doll babies.  They went with me everywhere.  But I preferred THEM to wear the frilly pink things, not me.

She loves pink.  L-O-V-E-S pink.  And doesn't really care for baby dolls for more than five minutes at a time.  She would rather mother her stuffed animals.  She prefers the frilly clothes to be on her, not on her toys.  She is attracted to anything sparkly, shiny, glittery, flashy, fancy, much like a Barracuda.  She recently told me she didn't want to wear a particular outfit because it wasn't "fancy enough." 

On this beach trip, case in point, we had to make her wear a t-shirt the last day because she was getting too red ( don't pretend you didn't notice.)  The t-shirt offered by a friend was a Batman one.  She was NOT okay with this- I repeat- NOT okay.  She threw the biggest, most unexpected fit I've ever witnessed out of her.  When I asked what was so terribly wrong she told me the t-shirt hurt her feelings.  I asked her how on earth a shirt could hurt someone's feelings.  She said, "because it doesn't appreciate me." 

Actually it was more like- becuzz it duzzent uhhh-priiii-shaa-aate meeee- ah-ho-hee-hee-hee....  (face crumpled in distraught.)

In adult terms: it ain't flattering.

And she does say some funny, funny things.  I am sad to have forgotten a lot of them already.  Yesterday, though, she said while hanging from the handle of a grocery cart upside down and thinking it was hard work, "WHOA, I can't handle this!!"  To which Jack parroted, "WHOA- I can't HANDLE this!"

She says sweet, thoughtful things, too.  She tells me I'm her best friend in all the world.  She tells me I look so very beautiful when I SO don't.  She says I'm her sister.  AMEN!  We are sisters, girl!  We certainly are.

She used to tell me she loved me soooo strong, but she's old enough to know that's not how people say it anymore.  And that makes me want to cry.

She asked me the other day if God could ever die and be gone.  Could he be run over by a car? 

We talked it over some and I realized that what she was essentially asking me was whether or not we could ever be separated from God, and was this something she should worry about?  The Lord brought two of the few verses I have hidden away in my heart to mind- Psalm 139-

7 Where can I go from your Spirit?
       Where can I flee from your presence?

8 If I go up to the heavens, you are there;
       if I make my bed in the depths, ^[a] you are there.

9 If I rise on the wings of the dawn,
       if I settle on the far side of the sea,

10 even there your hand will guide me,
       your right hand will hold me fast.

11 If I say, "Surely the darkness will hide me
       and the light become night around me,"

12 even the darkness will not be dark to you;
       the night will shine like the day,
       for darkness is as light to you.

and:

38For I am convinced that neither death nor life, neither angels nor demons,^[a] neither the present nor the future, nor any powers, 39neither height nor depth, nor anything else in all creation, will be able to separate us from the love of God that is in Christ Jesus our Lord.

Romans 8

(Of course I paraphrased these verses to meet her understanding.)  Then I asked her if God answered her question.  She nodded.  I said, "where did he answer your question,"  (thinking she might say the Bible, His word,) but instead she pointed to her heart. 

I couldn't have understood it,  nor expressed it better myself.

But back to that saucy thing.

She likes to shake her "bon-bon."  Like her teacher taught her.  At PRESCHOOL.

Please tell me how I'm supposed to refrain from laughing.  Oh, I don't even try.  No, in fact, I ASK her to do this, though in these pictures, and quite often, she doesn't require any asking. 

She shakes it freely.  

Like her mother, Shaun would say... to the pizza man... when the kids run to the door naked. 

Labels: beach, Madalyn, national lampoon family vacations, parenthood, photography, pics, sugar and spice, summer