Daddy. Outside.

Listen here, missy.

Just because you wanted nothing to do with the homemade chicken Parmesan I heaped onto you plate last night; just because you resisted your highchair; just because you saw Daddy Outside as he was finishing a project before dinner; just because you think you are SO big ... doesn't mean you can simply open the sliding screen door and beebop your little blond butt down the deck stairs and across the yard to Daddy Outside as I am preoccupied cleaning marinara sauce off my floor and cupboards.

Oh no you don't. Just who do you think you are, little miss big girl?

Go

Some kids loathe the carseat, traveling, upsetting routine.

Not you, lil' dude. You're perfectly content to go bye-bye whenever and wherever.

Just give a girl her shades, blanket, snacks, and cup.

Wordless Wednesday

Peoplehood

Delicious!

You have been blessed once again, by the birth of your newest bestie, a little named T2. He arrived Friday night, and we couldn't wait to meet him! You've been enamored with T2's big brother for awhile now, and look, here's a miniature version of him for you to snack on. Just kidding. We don't eat our friends. We love our friends.

You're a lucky little girl. You belong to a very special circle of littles. You know all your aunties? The ladies your Mama grew up with, of whom your Fairy Godmother is a member? Well, you, Big T, T2, and AJ are the second generation of that group. You're our future. We are family.

I can't wait until you all build sandcastles together and eat way too many s'mores before bedtime; until you leave all your dripping wet mittens in my entryway; until you tattle on each other and push each other and come back to each other, whispering and hugging each other's necks at goodbye time.

I can't wait until you chant, This is the blood of our people, the wolf people, the alligator people, and the moon women from which we gain our strength to rule all worlds just like the littles do in the Divine Secrets of the Ya-Ya Sisterhood. Only your chant and your group will be a peoplehood. Welcome to your peoplehood, lil' dude.

Every Day

Not just today, Memorial Day, but every day. Every day I think about both of my grandfathers, wishing I could be close enough to their grave sites to touch the cool stone bearing their name and service information, close enough to watch the lil' dude as she squats to feel the flowers left behind.


For my Grandpa D., you spoiled me, your only granddaughter, each day you were alive. I can still hear your laugh in my head.


For my Grandpa R., you had the biggest heart of anyone I've known. I hope you know how proud I am of the fight you put up.

So not just today. Every day. Thank you both for the honor you did our families and the commitment you served. I am blessed to be your granddaughter.

A Season of Goodbyes

Lil' dude, your Auntie L. and her family are heading East today- destined for their new life. It meant I had to say goodbye to her, in the parking lot of Caribou Coffee, tears streaming down my face in the wind storm.



Be brave I whispered, to her, and me.

These words will sound familiar; they were written behind Auntie L.'s name in my wedding program where she stood by my side as a bridesmaid.

L. was my first official friend in town and definite security blanket. I knew I immediately wanted (and needed) to be her friend thanks to her outrageous sense of humor, huge smile, and infectious personality. We instantly realized how many similarities we share. She is an absolute believer in love and the total pursuit of happiness, and she was invaluable to me when I was trying to figure out both. She taught me how to really listen to a song, grow strong houseplants, and laugh like there's no tomorrow. Being the last person I lived with in my single years, L. will always be someone I cherish for going through that transition with me so unselfishly.

We grew up together, I met her when I was 20. The last season of my childhood. We grew up together and had babies. I remember asking her late one night, when I was 6 months pregnant, can I take Benadryl? My allergies were out of control and I hadn't slept well in days. Auntie L. saved me, told me to take the pill and go to sleep. She's saved me more than once.

And you want to know a secret? Mama loves? That came from her too. I heard her whisper it to her daughter A. when she was about 2 months old. That girl is almost 4 now.

So, L.? Mama loves. I'll miss you, but never goodbye.

Overheard

Two nights ago I was downstairs in the guest room wrapping Auntie K's birthday gift. The lil' dude's bedroom is right above where I was dutifully wrapping. It was a little past 8pm; I had just tucked her in. I could hear her through the ceiling, doing God-knows-what crazy thing she does.

"Hey," the Dad called. "Come up here a sec,"
I followed his voice upstairs.
"Can you hear the lil' dude?" he asked.
"Yes, I could hear her downstairs. What is she doing? It sounds like ..."
The Dad said, "barking. I think she is barking."
"I thought meowing."
"Wait," he said, listening further. "She's growling. Definitely growling."
I said, "she's weird."
"Now she is howling! The lil' dude is howling!"

If I could be a fly on her wall, I totally would. She works in mysterious ways. And? Just this morning, she somehow woke up on her own, very quietly, removed a bumper from her crib, and pulled all her dirty clothes out of her hamper and smuggled the soiled cargo into her bed. When I went in there to wake her up, I busted her trying to put one of her filthy t-shirts on Curious George.