For the last thirty months or so I have lovingly referred to Feenie my-awesomely-animated-third-child simply as The Toddler here on my blog and in real life.  I've greeted my husband, upon his arrival at home each night, with the "you'll never believe what The Toddler did today" at least eight hundred and twenty-five times during those months.  Jeff, an only child, upon that greeting usually glanced around the house making sure the four walls around him were still in tact before letting out a sigh of relief.  "What didn't the Hurricane Feenie do today?"

The bio on my front page reads "happily married mother to 3 Cleveland natives: Jay the son, Lola the daughter, and Fifi the toddler."  And just above that, it states "a self proclaimed globe trotting, minivan driving, SAHM stiletto ho."

Feenie is no longer a toddler and I no longer drive a minivan.  All other descriptions still apply.  Can you guess which one of those changes makes me weep?

Clue:  I don't miss the minivan. At. All. And can't get used to describing her a preschooler. Oh my gosh, she's a preschooler.  Waaaa......