Cursive.

"Mom, I'm cursive."

That's what Kenna told me today when I told her she looked cute. She then explained that "cursive" means "fancy."

"OK," I said, "Kenna, you look cursive."

"I'm not Kenna, I'm Ariel."

But then I knew that, didn't I? She's been Ariel for two weeks now. She corrected her preschool teacher when she called her Kenna, asked me why her barrette didn't say "Ariel" instead of "Kenna" and has regularly reminded both Eric and I that she is Ariel when we forget and call her by, shudder, her given name.

In my defense, I just returned from two and half days in New Orleans. Two and a half days of strolling the French Quarter and eating the most decadent chocolate bread pudding I've ever had. (I'm hopeful the first will cancel out the latter.) Two and a half days of a hotel room all to myself. And, to Kenna's dismay, two and a half days to forget that she has christened herself "Ariel" in honor of her most-loved princess.

While I was gone, Eric was home with the girls. When I went to Hawaii, I made a treasure map for Michal and Kenna so they'd have something to look forward to each morning. Treasure-maps-because-mom-is-out-of-town are now the rule, so Eric dutifully made maps and sent the girls on hunts each morning.

These are the maps from the morning I returned home. Eric put glitter on them. He remembered to label them with each of the girls self-designated princess names and they even include an instruction to climb over the couch, which the girls thought was hilarious since they know they're not actually allowed to climb on the furniture, unless of course a treasure map tells them to.

In short, the maps are pretty incredible. I think you could even describe them as cursive . . . very, very cursive.