We had a bad night. Reagan has a cold. Reagan cannot breathe through her nose. Reagan cannot suck on her pacifier if she can't breathe through her nose. Reagan cannot sleep without her pacifier. I got no sleep whatsoever...and neither did she. So I literally dragged myself around the house this morning, trying to muster up the strength to get to work. Ugh.
I got out of my car to drop Reagan off at her daycare. This little girl who I have seen many times before was being dropped off by her dad. She stood in the driveway and said, "Look Daddy! Its Reagan's mommy and baby Reagan! I love baby Reagan. She is so cute!" ~My heart melts~
I've often been curious about this little girl. Her parents drive a Cadillac Escalade. A big shiny black one with chrome detailing. She wears very cute clothes. Today she was wearing a dress with little tights that had flowers on them. She can't be much older than 4 or 5. She always talks to me when I bring Reagan or pick her up. Her parents are very nice looking people. Apparently, they have taught their daughter how to melt the hearts of other people. She's adorable.
There is a similarly sweet little boy that mows my boss's lawn. He comes in the office and says things like "Yes sir" and "Thank you ma'am". He asks very friendly conversationally appropriate questions. He speaks clearly. He is unafraid to speak to adults. He's terribly polite and well-mannered. Whenever he leaves, we all comment on how nice Brent is. He's adorable.
So how do they do it? How do these parents turn out such fantastically communicative children? I am afraid I know the answer and I don't like it. The only thing I can really point to is that they had fabulous examples. Meaning, their parents are as sweet and endearing as their children. Sigh. I'm going to have to do some serious personality overhauling. But for now I am too busy trying to get over all the little kids at daycare who call me "Reagan's mommy".
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