The In Between

Motherhood is full of big moments. There are the many firsts, the trips, the photographic memories that grace the walls of your home. But, the best moments are the in between. They are the silly faces made behind the camera to get that big smile. They are the giggles at bed time. They are the snuggles in bed after that first morning bottle. They are the car conversations full of babbles and clicks. They are the blips of everyday life not captured on film. 

Tonight, as I put Catherine to sleep, I nuzzled her nose as she closed her eyes and was met instead with a giggle. A few minutes of giggling later, my daughter had laughed herself to sleep and I had forgotten about the exhaustion of the day and the laundry and cleaning that awaited me. It's the simple things like an unexpected giggle at bed time that make my heart smile and remind me how wonderful it is to carry the title of Mommy.

Thankful

We are safe and sound following our typical trek across the state for the holiday and I find myself even more aware of just how thankful I am to be surrounded by family. Instead of dreading the four hour drive from one family to the other, I relish in the fact that we have so many loved ones to see. What a wonderful problem to have!

We spent Thanksgiving with Husband's family this year (we alternate each year to keep it fair) and then spent the weekend with my family. Thanksgiving dinner was wonderful as always, with more food than we could possibly eat followed by the coveted chocolate chess pie (a recipe I fear I will never acquire). But, my favorite part about this year was watching our family test the limits of the dining room, squeezing five couples, two children at a kids table, and a baby in a high chair into the room, hoping its walls may become pliable. 

By this summer, two more babies will join this side of the family. It's amazing, really to experience the joy that children add to the holidays, to life. Catherine is lucky to have two older cousins from whom she will learn valuable lessons like how to jump on the bed and how to create the perfect twirl in her dress; and she is lucky to have two more on the way, who will no doubt learn countless lessons from the three older girls. I simply can't wait to watch our family grow over the next few years and to see how each holiday changes to adapt to the expansion, to see how the walls will hold us all in so that we may enjoy the simple pleasure of a meal together to celebrate our gratitude.

Swinging with Aunt Sarah (and my new baby cousin on the way!)

Happy Thanksgiving!

I always miss my family on the off years, as splitting up holidays is without a doubt the most difficult adjustment to marriage. But, we are lucky enough to all live in the same state, separated only by an afternoon drive. Husband and I and a soundly sleeping Catherine made our way to Lake Martin Friday to spend the weekend with my side. Unfortunately, we missed my sister and brother-in-law since they were with his family, but we were able to enjoy relaxing while watching Catherine crawl all over the place. I love that we see them so often and that they have really been able to watch her grow up these last nine months. Seriously, so blessed.

My parents were even nice enough to keep Catherine for us all day Saturday so that Husband and I could go to the Iron Bowl. It was the first time I had left C for that long, but I was at ease knowing she was in good hands. I enjoyed my first game in Jordan Hare cheering for the other side. I know, I'm a traitor. But, I have to admit, sharing a win with Husband was so much fun, and I look cute in crimson...

So, what was I thankful for this Thanksgiving? There aren't enough words. I am thankful for my family, for my friends, and for the simple pleasure of tucking my daughter into bed every night and snuggling her every morning. Life is good. Happy Thanksgiving!

Confession

I eat A LOT of homemade baby food.

A Very Merry November

Each year, Christmas seems to creep closer and closer into November, infiltrating the cornucopia centerpieces with silver bells and gingerbread scented candles. While I love giving thanks for Squanto's farming lessons and stuffing my face with cornbread dressing until I no longer can (because I've eaten it all), I adore Christmas. It's shiny and magical and it's impossible not to smile while listening to Christmas carols by a twinkling tree, drinking hot chocolate, and watching George Bailey stumble through the snow until he realizes how precious finding petals in his pocket really is.

So, even though we have yet to celebrate the day of thanks, the family headed to Stone Mountain Park this weekend to walk among the twinkling lights, roast s'mores by the fire, and most importantly, watch C meet Santa for he very first time.

We waited in line for what seemed like hours (but was realistically somewhere around 45 minutes) for what I was sure would be a picture of C screaming in a strange man's lap. We made our way to the front of the line, stripped down C's layers to find her adorable Christmas dress (thanks, Aunt Ryan) and optimistically placed her in Santa's lap. She turned around slowly, touched his fuzzy sleeves, and smiled so big! What a fun surprise!

It really was such a fun night. Cheesy? Yes. But, so wonderful. After our visit with Santa, we grabbed some dinner, enjoyed some s'mores, and boarded the train where we sang Christmas carols and listened to the story of Christmas. C was wide eyed well past her bedtime, taking it all in. The night ended with fire works and C finally closed her little eyes as we walked to the car. This will definitely be a new family tradition.

Merry Christmas!

Copy Cat

C started mimicking me today. It is so adorable. It started with breakfast. She is never too thrilled with breakfast. It has nothing to do with the food itself. She's just a little distracted...by the dog... and her bib... and her toes... making it difficult to actually finish her meal. 

Today, I ate with her, mostly because I was starving, but also because I thought she might want to eat more if I was eating. Well, I was right! Every time I took a bite of my yogurt, she opened her mouth for a bite of her food. And she ate it all! We've even ventured into finger foods. She's eating teeny tiny bites of very ripe banana and we've introduced puffs. She's getting the hang of it...

The mimicking continued as C learned a new noise from Mommy. I was clucking like a chicken to try to make her laugh. She studied my mouth, concentrated, and made the same noise! I may regret this later as she has been making this noise all day long, but it's so cute.

I guess I'll have to be even more careful of what I say and do around my little copy cat now. It is so much fun watching her learn!

The 11:30 Dose

There is absolutely nothing I dread more than C's 11:30 dose of propranalol. When you have to space out doses every 8 hours, there is really no way to avoid at least one of the three doses falling during a time when she is completely asleep.

C goes to bed at 7:30. Mommy then cleans, does laundry and dishes, takes out the trash, makes baby food, catches up on the dvr and watches the time tick by until 11:30. Every. Single. Night.

I've tried going to sleep and setting an alarm, but I continually slept through it, only to wake up in a panic around 2:00 a.m., realizing I had missed her dose yet again. So instead, my nightly ritual revolves around 11:30.

When 11:30 finally hits, I quietly creep into my daughter's room, adjust the dimmed light just enough to see the lines on the medicine dropper, and wake my soundly sleeping child by shooting bitter medicine into her mouth and quickly chasing it with a bottle. Now she is mad. She is tired. She is awake.

Twenty minutes later, I have finally gotten her back to sleep, desperately hoping she will return to the peaceful state in which I found her but knowing she probably won't. I get in bed and watch her toss and turn in her pink sleep sack until she remains still, and I wonder what it will be like one day when her hemangioma is gone and we can end this dreaded ritual.


- Posted using BlogPress from my iPad

Turning 39 One More Time

I used to still think my dad was is the coolest. That's the thing about having such a great dad. The older I get, the cooler he becomes. Yesterday, my dad turned *ahem* fifty! If you ask him, he's still 39, but I'll let him tell that to whomever will believe it. It's the least I could do. It is his birthday, after all.

He's accomplished a lot in fifty years and I've been lucky enough to be a part of the last twenty seven. Growing up as an Army brat, his childhood stories were always my favorite. I still love to hear him recount his teenage years in Germany at Pirmasens American Junior High School. I was amazed how many broken bones resulted from silly boy bets (girls just don't do that!) and, even more, I loved the stories of he and my mom meeting in high school in Montgomery and working together on the yearbook. Thanks to facebook for these gems from PAJH:

 

It's amazing how quickly time passes sometimes. Just last week, he was teaching me to ride a bike; and a few days later, to drive a car, making me drive in circles in the same Jeff Davis High School parking lot where he learned to drive. Dad is the reason I love a lot of things. He introduced me to good coffee and foreign cuisine. He made sure my vocabulary was never lacking, enforcing use of the "word of the day" each day. Because of that, I use words like copious and perfunctory on a regular basis. He encourages patriotism with our homework assignment each Independence Day and encourages goofiness always, which I appreciate (sans the span of my tweens in which he was the most embarrassing dad in the whole world).


He's a talented writer and an even better speaker. I may have gotten my love of writing from him, but the talent of speech did not make it my way. I am in awe of how he commands a room, whether it were a PTA meeting at my elementary school, a program with Alabama's Junior Miss, or even his Sunday School class. He is well liked, appreciated, respected. 


He's the person people call when they need help (partly because he never sleeps, but mostly because they know he'll be there for them wholly). He's involved, invested, and dependable; but most importantly, he has a good time. It's no wonder why he's always surrounded by people. They just want to join in on the fun.

I've been racking my brain for something deeply moving and symbolic of his fifty years on this earth, an analogy that would sum up the weight of it all. But all I could think of is how glad I am that he was born fifty years ago, and that if I am half the person he's taught me to be when I'm fifty, I'll consider myself blessed.

Fifty looks good on you, Dad. You wear it well.

Happy Birthday, Dad (Poppa)! Thank you for being you. We love you so very much!

Growing, Going, Gone

As C grows, each "first" is somehow more exciting than the last. From her first smile to her first giggle and from rolling over to sitting up, each is a cause for celebration, for photos and videos emailed to family and posted to facebook. It's amazing to think about all of the simple tasks we complete each day and imagine our parents willfully watching us, coaching us, and celebrating with us as we accomplished these milestones years ago.

Well, we have had a mobile child for a while now, watching her scoot and roll herself to her desired destination. But, now, we embark on new territory. Ladies and gentlemen, we officially have a crawler. 


Last Tuesday, after a night of scooting around in a pink poodle costume, C looked at a toy with sheer determination, pushed up onto all fours, and made her way across the floor. I cheered, I clapped, and then I took her toy away and put it on the opposite end of the rug so I could video her latest trick. 

Her newest skill paired with a slight case of separation anxiety toward mommy, and my heart melts. For the record, there is nothing cuter than a crawling baby... except when she's crawling toward you. I hope this stage lasts longer than I think it will. (She's already trying to pull up...)

Oy, With the Poodles Already

Halloween was always fun growing up. My sister and I wore matching costumes, almost always a Disney princess. We trick or treated with our friends, taking turns hosting each year so we could try different neighborhoods. We painted our front window, carved pumpkins, made ghost cookies, and ate way too much candy. It was awesome.

In college and a few years after, it was an excuse for parties with trash cans full of unidentified punch and scantily clad costumes often involving thigh highs.

Fast forward a few years and our experience is slightly different with a little one. I made the infamous ghost cookies (even though Husband and I ate most of them). And C helped me clean out pumpkins for carving, experiencing the gooey fun for the very first time.

And we were charged with finding the perfect first costume for our little trick or treater. I think we nailed it.

Our pink poodle!

Cousin Abigail loves baby Catherine!

We spent the evening with cousin Abigail and Aunt Beth and Uncle Clay. Their neighborhood was perfect for trick or treating and C loved the view from her stroller of kids running all over the place. She was a trooper and was wide awake in her snuggly poodle costume well past her bed time. We had such a good time and cannot wait for next year. I think trick or treating with sweet Abigail might just become a tradition. Holidays are so much more fun with tiny people!

And just for fun, look at what sweet Abigail was for her first Halloween four years ago:

Great minds think alike :)

Fun Fall Festivities

Fall is my all time favorite time of year. The air is crisp, the trees are beautiful, everything is made with pumpkin. Somehow, the world smells like cinnamon. What's not to love? 

Well, this year, C gave us an excuse for even more fun. Everything is better when you get to share the experience with a little one. In the past few weeks, we have ventured to the Fall Festival in Mount Laurel, to Railroad Park for a stroll and C's first park swing, to the zoo for the first time, and to Old Baker's Farm to visit the pumpkin patch. We've been busy, but wouldn't have it any other way.

The Fall Festival was more of a craft fair with a bouncy house, but it was a beautiful day and there were dogs everywhere, so C was perfectly happy.

She's looking at a puppy

The day was young, so we headed to Railroad Park to hang out with Aunt Mallory and Uncle Pete. We tried the park swing for the first time. She liked it, but she much preferred to watch all the other kids run around on the playground. She certainly was cute though!

The next weekend brought on the zoo! I have been dying to take C to the zoo. She lights up around dogs and I just knew she would love other animals too. Aunt Mallory joined us for a girls day and it was perfect. And, I was right. C had a blast!

An attempt at getting a shot of her with her giraffe by the giraffes

Mommy making pig noises

The petting zoo was by far our favorite. The goats ran to the gate and thrust their heads out for us to pet them and the pig snorted, sending C into a fit of giggles. What a fun day! We will be back. Very soon.

The next day, we ventured over to Harpersville to Old Baker's Farm to pick a pumpkin. CiCi and Poppa met us there for some good old fashioned small town fun. I had actually never been to a pumpkin patch before, so I was really excited to not only experience it for the first time, but to get to share it with my sweet girl.

Fun with CiCi in the barn (in the beautiful smocked dress she made for me)!

Discovering cotton

nap time

On the hay ride with CiCi and Poppa!

What a fun day!

It was a wonderful day and a nice reminder of life's simple joys. After a day of barbecue, coke, fried pie, livestock, cotton, corn stalks, and hayrides, we drove home with four pumpkins, a sleeping baby, and a new family tradition. It just doesn't get better than that.