Wednesday, March 28, 2012

The In Between

Just last week, the lil' dude told her Daddy she didn't need him to walk her to the door at daycare.
She unbuckled herself, hopped down from the truck, and walked confidently to the front door.
The Dad sat solemnly in the truck, waiting for her to make her big, grownup way inside.

But she struggled to get the door open on her own.
Daddy to the rescue.
She's so little.
She's so big.
She's so in between.

Monday, March 26, 2012


"Life isn't about waiting for the storm to pass, it's about learning how to dance in the rain." -Unknown

Friday, March 23, 2012

Five Years

Five years ago today, I found out I was going to be a Mama ... what an amazing & unexpected five years they've been. That kid rocks the universe right off its hinges. This week, she went next door on her scooter to see their cats, and eat their snacks. Her babysitter wasn't even home ... just wanted to visit. The neighbor said, "I haven't seen her since she turned 4 ... but she sure talks. A LOT."

Five years. I remember what I was wearing. Due date 11/27. Feeling bad about the two beers I had the night before when we were watching Sweet 16 games. Maybe that's why she talks so much.

She's seriously so bright. Her memory floors me. She's compassionate. Lippy. Intentional. Dramatic. Sweet. Helpful. She wants to set the table each night. Her & I went on a solo bike ride for the first time last night. She'd SLAM on her brakes, hold her hand up and say, "MOM WAIT. WE NEED TO TALK," then she'd pick a random subject. Like she can't bike & talk at the same time. Well, she probably can't.

Five years. Oh, man. She won't stop talking about Kindergarten. She is going to OWN that bus, for the 1.9 mile ride she has to take. I hope they let us bus her, she'll be crushed if there's an under-radius rule for busing and she's declared exempt. But I'll find a way to get her tiny tushie on a bus her first day of school even if I have to rent one for $1,000 dollars because I'm her Mama and making her dreams come true is my one and only mission in life.

She sings the melodies and hooks to songs barely audible in the background of everyday. She's a marketing department's dream come true. She loves jingles and slogans and wants the UPS Logistics song available on her iPod. She favors her stuffed animals with perpetual sadness stitched onto their faces, because she thinks she makes them happy by loving them. And oh, does she ever. She adores headbands and strong, glittery nail polish that holds. We're currently scouring the planet for plastic bobcats ... of the nature variety, not the farm implement variety simply because she needs one. My girl needs a bobcat.

In all honesty, I didn't think she'd be the only offspring living under our roof as she neared five years old. Who ever thinks that? I am trying to relax into that now. A hell of a lot easier said than done. I'm trying to ease into only having one child for fear I'll suffocate her with love and adoration. I want to buy her icy lemonades each and everyday, while finding the plastic horses she doesn't own, while simultaneously promising annual trips to DisneyWorld, and dressing her in expensive, vintage skirts because she's all I've got.

She's all I've got and she's everything.

Five years ... five perfect, sparkly, sticky, bright yellow years full of Starbucks and Orange basketball and endless Target perusing and chocolate iced cake donuts and sleeping and remembering and blowing up knucks.

My one, my only ... Mama loves.
So, so much.

Thursday, March 22, 2012

Tina Fey on Raising a Daughter

“First, Lord: No tattoos. May neither Chinese symbol for truth nor Winnie-the-Pooh holding the FSU logo stain her tender haunches. May she be beautiful but not damaged, for it’s the damage that draws the creepy soccer coach’s eye, not the beauty. When the Crystal Meth is offered, may she remember the parents who cut her grapes in half and stick with beer.

Guide her, protect her when crossing the street, stepping onto boats, swimming in the ocean, swimming in pools, walking near pools, standing on the subway platform, crossing 86th Street, stepping off of boats, using mall restrooms, getting on and off escalators, driving on country roads while arguing, leaning on large windows, walking in parking lots, riding Ferris wheels, roller-coasters, log flumes, or anything called “Hell Drop,” “Tower of Torture,” or “The Death Spiral Rock ‘N Zero G Roll featuring Aerosmith,” and standing on any kind of balcony ever, anywhere, at any age.

Lead her away from acting but not all the way to finance. Something where she can make her own hours but still feel intellectually fulfilled and get outside sometimes and not have to wear high heels. What would that be, Lord? Architecture? Midwifery? Golf course design? I’m asking You, because if I knew, I’d be doing it, Youdammit. May she play the drums to the fiery rhythm of her own heart with the sinewy strength of her own arms, so she need not lie with drummers. Grant her a rough patch from twelve to seventeen. Let her draw horses and be interested in Barbies for much too long, For childhood is short – a tiger flower blooming magenta for one day – and adulthood is long and dry-humping in cars will wait.

O Lord, break the Internet forever, that she may be spared the misspelled invective of her peers and the online marketing campaign for Rape Hostel V: Girls Just Wanna Get Stabbed. And when she one day turns on me and calls me a Bitch in front of Hollister, Give me the strength, Lord, to yank her directly into a cab in front of her friends, for I will not have that shit. I will not have it.

And should she choose to be a Mother one day, be my eyes, Lord, that I may see her, lying on a blanket on the floor at 4:50am, all-at-once exhausted, bored, and in love with the little creature whose poop is leaking up its back. “My mother did this for me once,” she will realize as she cleans feces off her baby’s neck. “My mother did this for me.” And the delayed gratitude will wash over her as it does each generation and she will make a mental note to call me. And she will forget. But I’ll know, because I peeped it with Your God eyes. Amen.” -Tina Fey

Friday, March 16, 2012

Happy {Bark}Day

Happy #6 to my little human with a tail.
To the one and only Beagle love.
The best dog and companion a girl could ask for.

You're scared of Canadian Geese.
And my curling iron.
The ice machine.

You heart the sun.
Long, long walks.
With even longer recovery.
Hot Tamales.
And pretending the little blond being is annoying to you.

You two are bosom buddies, even if you're still too cool for her.
Feigning disinterest when she hugs and kisses you at bedtime.
You're a total poser.

Happy birthday, sweet, furry, predictable, gentle, and fiercely loyal Beagle.

Mama loves.

Thursday, March 15, 2012


My Dad joined us one evening this week for tacos and a walk/bike ride.
The next morning, he texted me a thanks.
And a small parental urging.

Lil' dude needs a bike helmet.
Just because you had parents that ignored their child's safety doesn't mean it is right.
Be prepared to fight a battle.
She will wear it exactly one week then it will be too hot or some other excuse.
Stick to your guns, the helmet is like a seatbelt.

This one's for you, Papa.

Safe and snazzy.
She thinks her helmet is the shit!
(this week)

Wednesday, March 14, 2012


Via Instagram, of course.

Wednesday, March 7, 2012

Wordless Wednesday {Sorta}

My baby yesterday on spring break at Camp Grandma!
The Dad & I are off on our own adventure this week ... New York City! I hope you all enjoy the sunshine this week, travel or not.

Mama loves.

Friday, March 2, 2012


I have a powerful memory, this I admit. I love it. I remember so many details of my life, dating way, way back to childhood.

One of my favorite memories was when I was 5 or 6. My Dad came home from work one day, and announced we were leaving.

For a tool show.

The family was loaded up, and herded into a giant arena with thousands of other people. We waited and waited for the tool show to commence.

The lights went out, and out came a goddamn elephant.

Y'all, my mind was BLOWN.

My parents surprised me with a trip to the circus.

It's a memory I will never forget. How in a minute's time, life can go from average to awesome.
From tool show to circus.
I was grateful to be surprised, spoiled, treated specially by my parents.

And now I am paying it forward.
Tomorrow, the Dad and I will load up the lil' dude and not tell her where we're going.
Little Miss Detail is going to lose her shit when we hit the freeway and dodge her questions for 70 miles.

Tomorrow her circus comes in the form of her true passion:

Disney's Dare to Dream ... Princesses on Ice.

I don't even know how I'm going to sleep tonight.

Thursday, March 1, 2012

Proof, Plus Another Motherhood First

The picture says it all.

Proof my December baby actually might have had some fun in the cold and snow.

You see, my December baby ain't too keen on bundling up and playing in the snow.
At all.
She's a winter-hater (even though we don't say hate in our house) just like her Daddy.

So here we were yesterday, roughly 1,545 days since becoming mother and daughter, playing in the snow together for the very first time. I love that I experienced another first in motherhood, as those occasions become less and less frequent.

I tell you ... sledding in suburbia as a first was way more enjoyable than hearing her drop her first eff-bomb on THANKSGIVING DAY, 2011, courtesy of Mama saying it first.