When I was a kid, I loved getting a new Easter dress every spring.
Then I had a daughter of my own. I discovered the joys of picking out and dressing up my own living, breathing doll.
Please note that I only do this on Easter. I am not one of those frightening pageant moms. And even on Easter, I do not whiten my little girl's teeth, paint make-up on her face, or apply spray-on tanner.
Or parade her in front of scary adults and ask them to judge her.
But I do dress her up in frilly dresses.
At eleven months old,
this was Adelaide's first Easter.
The next year, my Grandma sent me a Laura Ashley-style dress.
What was I to do but get a white straw hat and white heeled shoes?
Had I been able to find white gloves, I would have made her wear those, too.
She was almost two.
The following year, she wasn't really interested in posing for picture after picture.
That Easter, she was all about the thrill of the hunt.
The Easter egg hunt. Almost three here.
And last year, she just seemed so grown up.
Jumping for joy:
"Jesus is Alive!"
Okay, so it was probably more like,
After going through lots of photographs, I've noticed a certain trend with Adelaide's ensembles. I seem to really like polka-dotted Easter dresses. "Well, not this year!" I thought. "This year, it's different."
Then I dashed upstairs to confirm her dress is made from floral-print fabric.
Sure enough, there is a floral border along the bottom hem of the dress.