So, today is the big day, our tour of the specialest of special buildings in my Big City. Sabrina said yesterday she doesn't want to go. "I want to go with my Daddy." and "My Daddy took me." Poor thing probably doesn't want to have this special experience with me instead of her family.
We have to be there at 9:45, so we can leave a little later than when we go to school. I'm letting Sabrina sleep a little extra, but I'm nervous that we're going to end up having another one of her marathon two-and-a-quarter-hours-just-to-get-dressed mornings. She really is adorable, though: she woke up, came into the living room and asked for milk, drank a bit, then got on the sofa, curled up, and fell back asleep. If only she hadn't completely melted down last night when I tried to put her cream on, I'd be more confident about getting ready; if she weren't so completely desperate for her skin to be moisturized, she could get herself ready in about 20 minutes. Instead I'm going to have to balance her being awake enough to be rational with the fact that my involvement in getting dressed makes it take five or six or nine times longer. Wish me luck!
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