My Two Girls

My two girls.  

 

When you're in high school and sharing a room, and fighting every two minutes about clothes, and the bathroom, and boys, and friends, and clothes, and makeup, and the car, and the bathroom, and clothes, I'm going to print these and tape them up all over your shared room and make you remember.

 

That you love each other, and that Nelle has always wanted to take care of you June - making sure you have your paci, and telling me to "burp da baby", and alerting me when "she spiiiit up!" (which is like allllll the time), and learning to shhhhhshhhshhh you, and calling you "baby Junieeee!" 153 times a day, and that June - you love when Nelle sits in front of you in the swing and you just watch her with such alert content eyes and smile at her.  

 

You've got your daddy swept off his feet.  He would literally do anything for you at the bat of those lashes from either of you.  But don't think he won't hesitate to take the door off the hinges of the aforementioned shared room when you are fighting every two minutes about clothes, and the bathroom, and boys, and friends, and clothes, and makeup, and the car, and the bathroom, and clothes.  

 

And then he'll retreat to his man cave where he and Henry will talk about bashing and smashing.  Because boys. 

 

And you'll commiserate together, and go find him, and both of you will bat those lashes, and he'll put your door back on, and I'll file these away for the next time you need a little reminder about what you are and where it started.

Sisters.

My two girls.

(Photos taken at least a month ago?  Time flies with three, three and under!

And June's most adorable linen peter pan collar romper made especially for us from this Etsy shop.  She wore this precious outfit home from the hospital, and it is just the perfect keepsake now.  I'd order another one again in a heartbeat.)