Breakfast with a diva

So Teresa is amazing, in case some of you were wondering. She now knows most of her alphabet (except E and F confuse her), she can count to 8 and knows the sounds of various barnyard animals. She constantly wants to know whats what, and body parts fascinate her. She informed me in the store today that I had a vagina (this is Cara by the way, so her assessment was spot on, buy very loud). Those old people must really wonder about me sometimes...

So, on to the pictures. These were taken a couple of days ago, when Teresa decided to wear her cereal bowl as a hat.

Winnipeg gal, through and through

I'm officially ancient...

30! That's like a bajillion years old in fishfly years

Ah, the Yost is strong in this one...

So Ken went to a bunch of garage sales with Teresa this weekend, and I was afraid. I was afraid of clothes from the 80's, tacky shoes and toys that were on their last legs and contaminated with some viral concoction that would eventually give Teresa the ability to burn people with her laser beam eyes. However, I had no cause for alarm, Ken came home with a play dough dentist set, a big girls bike, an awesome wagon and a very innocent looking plastic pool.

Ken, as is his nature was very excited about this pool, so he promptly filled it up in the morning. After Teresa's nap he decided that she needed a swim, so we put on her swimsuit and took her outside. She did not want to go in at first, so Ken let her explore it for a while, and before you know it, in she was. Teresa had a great time splashing and playing, but it did not take long for her to get cold. There she was, her little body shivering and lower lip quivering, yet she refused to leave the water. Ken eventually grew so concerned that he plucked her out. What followed were many minutes of screaming (and shivering) as we got her dry and dressed. If I were a true Yost I would have given her some ice cream afterwards, but it has only been 8 years, so I am not fully indoctrinated as yet:) The Auntie Jackie gene seems to be strong in my little girl and that scares the crap out of me, but the bright side is I am no longer afraid of garage sales.