Wordless Wednesday

At My House

It's perfectly normal to wear your new winter hat with your new winter jammies. And, it's also perfectly normal to get real sick of the camera and being asked sweetly to say cheese.

It's perfectly normal to not wear a frown for too long around here ... see what I mean?

Where the Wild Things Are

Yesterday, Grandma G. and I took the lil' dude on an adventure. It was completely unplanned and spontaneous, as most of life's greatest adventures are.

It didn't disappoint.

We told the lil' dude we were going to an alpaca farm ... like llamas, but way cuter and softer.
On the ride there, she kept mooing, saying, "animals. Moo. Cow," and we tended to agree with her.

Grandma G. had an in with the farmhand, so we were able to get in the pen with the wild creatures.

The lil' dude ran free, saying, "run, chase!" and awing the alpacas and farmers with her unabashed sense of freedom and lack of trepidation.

This particular fella, a baby named Ozzie, was quite fond of the little blond lady running about his habitat. He couldn't stay away.

They didn't know if Ozzie's love would frighten the lil' dude, so precautions were taken to maintain the peace.

While the alpacas never gave a moo as the lil' dude predicted, she still had the time of her life making new, fuzzy friends.

How Many Licks Does it Take ...

To get to the center of her very first Tootsie Pop?
One ...
Two ...
Three ...
Four ...
THIS many!

Wordless Wednesday

The Untold Story

It was Christmas Eve, 2007. The lil' dude was just over two weeks old.

The Dad and I dressed for the holiday church service. It was our first social outing as a family.
I straightened my hair, put on eyeliner, and high heels.
The Dad warmed up the truck for a good, long time.
I carefully selected the lil' dude's first Christmas dress ... she was so impossibly tiny, even the newborn sizes dwarfed her.

The lil' dude's first Christmas Eve.

Our church's capacity is near 600.
People were setting up folding chairs near the end of pews, and in the Narthex.
We chose a spot near the back of the church, I remember feeling so grown up when I whispered the order to my husband.
You know, in case she starts screaming?

My heart was near capacity as the last few weeks settled in around us.
Giving birth, finally. And to a daughter!
The whirlwind and revolving door our lives became as people flocked to meet our little girl.
The insane amount of gifts and goodwill.
Holding the Dad's hand under the covers in our bed at night, silent, and appreciative. We just looked at each other like co-conspirators in on the best gig ever.

The lights in the sanctuary dimmed. The service began.
On Christmas Eve, the Christmas Story is played out, complete with a manger, singing angels, and Wise Men riding in on camels. It's quite the performance. Everyone faces the altar, silent, transfixed.

My nostalgia turned my thoughts towards the rest of my family, not-so quietly celebrating Christmas as a pack of 50 in my grandparents' small Lutheran church, tucked behind the tall Pines and icy river. I felt sad, knowing I was missing all the traditions- and Grandma's ice cream roll. I pictured my parents' faces as they told everyone their Christmas story about a baby girl, their first grandchild. The photos handed out, the presents gathered for her. I wish I could have witnessed that from someplace private, just to see their faces and feel their excitement.

What I didn't know then, was Christmas 2007 would be the last my Grandpa R. would celebrate here on earth. I sat in the back of my church, gently swaying as my sleeping daughter lay on my chest, celebrating her first Christmas. The Christmas carols were sung, and "O, Holy Night" brought tears to my eyes as it always did.

And the Christmas Story is that of a miracle baby, whom no one thought would ever be born. Whom everyone rejoiced when he arrived, the world over. And nothing was ever the same after that day.

And the parallels were not lost on me.
The lil' dude and Daddy, Christmas Eve 2007

My Remembers

I love when you ...

Say bye-bye to everything.
And I mean everything.
"Bye-bye truck, bus, books (library), plane, juice, bath, toothbrush."

Say, "sun in my eyes," each morning when we drive to daycare, and turn by the bank so we're heading due east.

Request to give Eskimo Kisses to the Beagle as part of your bedtime routine.

See police cars and say "COPS!"

Get so excited when you find a stray snack left in your carseat.
Soggy Teddy Graham? Sticky fruit snack? You don't care. You devour it happily.

Say your colors; pink, buue, RED, geen, lellow.

Line things up so exact, I remind your father you have his bits of (delightfully sweet) OCD.

Feed me whatever you're having. "Mama, bite?"

Act sweetly to other children.

Want to hand the cashier the money, saying "thank you" when you get the change.

Let old ladies in cardigans fawn all over you as you sit in the cart, politely.

Get a little bit scared when watching the scary parts of Scooby-Do.

Can't start your day until you brush your teeth, just like Mama.

Drop everything to shake your booty to music.

Run, full speed, into my arms for a big one!

Mama loves all my remembers.