I took Sylvie to get her hair cut for the first time last week. I was a bit apprehensive, she has been a little bit of a devil recently. I was not sure how she would act with someone cutting her hair. So I prepped her and decided to take her one night when she was in a good mood and my parenting confidence was high (it is RARE when all these things line up. I had to take advantage of it!). There were two kids in front of us. She occupied herself by laying around on the floor of the salon, playing catch with her doll and me, and running around. I tried to keep her in one area of the room. I only got a few looks from the other mom that was there. 
Finally it was Sylvie’s turn. She went right up to the hairdresser and choose the Buzz Lightyear car to sit in. She acted so grown up, I couldn’t believe it. Sylvie turned her head every way the hairdresser asked. She listened and was quite and in awe. The whole time she had her little pout face on that she was born with. Here in front of me sat the exact person that used to be my baby, but she was all grown up. I took one million pictures, of course, and I cannot get over how her little face looks so young when just minutes before she was looking so old to me. Yes, there were tears in my eyes. How am I going to make it as she grows older, if I cannot even handle a hair cut??
This girl will be three on Monday. She has no more baby fat, except in her cheeks at some angles. She is tall. She fake laughs. She talks all the time. She loves and hugs and kisses. She still takes care of her dolls. She now goes to bed with no problems (JINX). She pushes her brother. She knows how to use my (her) iPad better than I do. She recognizes letters and numbers. She knows her name begins with an S. She loves happy birthdays. She specifically asked for a Barbie Princess bike for her birthday. She doesn’t eat dinner but wants a banana (bobana) an hour later.
