Ania has about ten articles of clothing that she is willing to wear. You're looking at four of them, unless we count the shoes. Five. To get her to wear anything else is just shy of a battle. I figure I have too many events in my life already, so she wears these clothes a LOT. The trick is washing them when she's not looking.
My mom had promised Ania a quick trip to the park after school one day this week, contingent upon the sun showing up. Which he did. So they went. She asked about Papa. She wanted to know if he was at the dentist? And was heaven a long way? She said she wanted him to come back.
Maybe it's a good thing to have a five year old around to speak bluntly, forcing you to acknowledge a reality that you'd rather ignore. She says stuff that many adults can't say because it's so awkward. I think Ania is growing us up. She's definitely sanding away my rough edges. Fashion wars or honest questions. Either way, she's good for me.