Marsha Marsha Marsha!

But what about the other one? What's his name--Bert? Sven? You mean Ben? Oh, Ben's great. More later on his love of elephants and all things Brown Bear, Brown Bear. For now, here's a picture of him with chest hair, enjoying a little ice cream.

No digging, because there's a fish.

Well, Anneke had her first Death, and thank God it was a fish. Betta, also known as "Fishy," joined our household circa...spring, 2012? And left us on MLK Day, 2013. He died of accidental causes, specifically: cousin shenanigans, as perpetrated while parents blithely/delusionally allowed four small children to run wild upstairs while the grown-ups had their fun. There were tears. There were denials and confessions. There was a blue Betta fish, quietly panting at the bottom of his bowl until he panted no more. Fish pant, right? I can't believe how sad I was about a damn betta fish. Really, it was so hard to see how sad Anneke was about said damn Betta. But Betta went out in style. Anneke requested he be placed in a plastic bag, so he wouldn't get dirty, and then in a box.

Anneke dug Betta's grave. 

She made a sign that said, "No digging, because there's a fish," with a picture of a fish.

Laurie, the manager for our remodel, is lovely.  She dug out an extra glass tile for the grave--beautiful pale blue.  We talked about Fishy, and we sang a song.  Anneke cried a lot. Laurie said something about the fishy going back to the universe.  This lead to many, many questions.  My priest friend Phil sent along some helpful theological support for fishy being in Heaven. More questions.  We finished up with hot tea and cocoa on the good china, as dictated in this book.  For a few days after she visited Fishy's grave.  Now she has an air plant, given to her by Laurie, and she wants a red betta. Big sigh.  Glad it was just a damn fish.

Princess then and now

I snapped these pics with my phone the other day of my big, almost-five-year-old girl.  Just found out the date of preschool graduation! What? I guess it would be ridiculous for her to stay there another year, right? Right? Here she is, finally with enough hair to braid and pin up: Anneke's hairstylist used to live in Holland, and I think she loves making Anneke look as much the part of the little Dutch girl as she can.

And here she is in same dress, almost exactly three years ago.  I don't know what to say--I'm so glad she still loves dress-up! I'm so glad my big girl is still little! My heart hurts in a good way just thinking about it.