what is it about little girls that makes my estrogen sky-rocket? is it all the pink? the giggling? the eyelashes? thank god i only have nephews.
this morning i met a friend and her little daughter for breakfast. everytime i see this little girl, i leave in a daze, light-headed, dreaming of striped tights and pink nurseries. GAH! somehow the intimacy of this mother-daughter bond manages to replace my visions of being a dark-suited, high-heeled, well-respected attorney with visions of doll houses and hide and seek at 2 in the afternoon.
it's like i'm in a cartoon, with the lawyer S on one shoulder and the mom-and-daughter S on the other. i'd like to see them duke it out - maybe the lawyer S would use her blackberry as a laser gun and the mom S would sling-shot barbies and freshly baked cookies.
the two versions of s are not mutually exclusive, i realize. there is a time for everything. blah blah blah. but something about seeing that little girl calls up a choir of doubt that i really could have both.
to sum up, it's a good thing:
1. i only have nephews;
2. this friend and her bundle of pink live in a different state now and only visit every few months; and
3. i have plenty of time to figure all this crap out.