Marsha, Marsha, Marsha

I have never really loved my name. I don't know why. I was named after my grandpa whom I loved, but it was just something I had a hard time accepting. Maybe it was the whole idea of being named after a man. I don't know. Together with my last name it just didn't roll off the tongue nicely. I never wanted to change my name, I just often times wondered how nice a different name would sound. Molly has decided that she is going to make me love it. She calls me Marsha or Marsh all the time. It's pretty cute and how could you not love your name coming from a sweet two year old...most of the time.

Molly got a new haircut. You'd think by looking at the pictures that she loved it. But you'd be wrong. She cried for about a whole week before whenever we brought it up. She didn't cry while getting her hair cut, she just sat in terror and had to hold my hand the whole time. Not even Dora could help the experience. And she was sitting in a fire truck. You'd think that sitting in a fire truck would make everything better. But again, you'd be wrong. We love our Molly and her shy personality.