Wordless Wednesday; Daddy Is Not Great At Helping Mommy Take Pictures

Two Stupid Dolls

The Princess arrived in the earliest bits of morning.

Just when Christian and I were about to pass out cold in the living room from the wait {a taste of our future when she starts dating?}, the car pulled up and out stepped my heart.

I watch her from the door {seriously, there are moths outside as big as my head} and in the light of the front porch, I see her perfectly.

She's as beautiful as ever, tall and olive skinned.

Her curls have succumbed to the constant heat of her environment and have evolved into waves.

She smiles at me and I see the most startling change; front teeth that we haven't seen in her smile since before she had them removed as a toddler, have grown in.

My only daughter is growing up. 

I'm going to have to buy stock in shotguns and shovels.

What the hell is that hideous thing she's carrying!?

I hug, kiss and marvel over Noodle all the while keeping my peripheral on this hairball in a red sweater that can only be the My Twinn doll she received for Christmas.

And the ugly thing is looking right back at me.

I should stop here to note that I felt awful at calling it ugly - as it's a My "TWINN" doll, it's supposed to look just like my daughter. I assure you, either I'm blind and biased beyond reason and my daughter is truly a freak of nature or whomever bought this thing for her never saw her clearly in the light of day, because I don't see much resemblance.

The conversation flows to the doll and my mother pipes up with an "OH!" which can only spell trouble. She goes on to explain that Nyann was given $50 for her upcoming birthday, and with it offered to purchase an American Girl doll for Samara. The two had taken up a collection since South Carolina and had already earned close to $70.

While the offer was generous and touching; Nyann's doll; Julie, creeps me the fuck out. 

Sleep will help sort out this nonsense. We get all four {four} of our beautiful Minions tucked into bed and I wake to two requests;

One: Can we call J.? {Of course.}

Two: Can I pull up the American Girl Doll website? {Shit.}

Samara knows little of her Hispanic roots. Her being Puerto Rican is something only brought up when my little blanquita shakes her hips and proves that she has rhythm - for all she knows, she is white, and so her dolls are too - they all look the same.

Knowing this, when she's with us, I try to impart some diversity into her collection, which is almost always met with resistance.

Like today.

I brought up each page and we eliminated each of the girls deemed unworthy, finally we were left with Kaya and "Girl of the Year" Kanani. 

Kaya was my favorite, and I gushed over her in an attempt to sway Samara's decision though she'd already bought Kanani in her mind. She didn't like Kaya's traditional garb, and Kanani's hair was semi straight and very long - Kanani won by a landslide.

I already hate this doll.

Her buck teeth and fake tan annoy me, she comes with an ugly, sequined, muu muu, sandals instead of flip flops and some well showcased "cotton underwear". But more than that, she is the least accurate representation of "Hawaii" I've seen since "Spam and Reese's" of 50 First Dates, I'm surprised that her name isn't Ku'uipo. 

I think I spent enough time living in the land of Aloha to get defensive, damn it.

I keep all of this to myself of course and relegate myself to defeat.

While Samara is excitedly dancing, I'm hoping I missed one and go back to find the custom "Just Like Me" dolls.

I'm bombarded by options, so I narrow down by the options available; Hair Color, Eye Color, Hairstyle and wait with bated breath as the results load...

*sigh*

Kanani is on her way...

Happy Day!

It's Independence Day {Happy Independence Day to all those who care}...

And it's exciting, I suppose...

Especially if you're expecting a Princess as awesome as ours is to arrive!

We're bursting with anticipation and can't wait to wrap our arms around her.

{Get it, bursting? Like fireworks? Heh. Whatever. I win.}