19 July 2008

its a sunshine day

Last night was party night here at the SlaughterHouse, and according to the looks on my newly 4-year old's face, it was a good party. Carrie really wanted a butterfly cake, so thanks to this really great book, I was able (with Annie's help frosting) to make two that passed the test. We had a good group, with Erin (of course! along with her Mom) and the Alexanders, so it was a fun evening and made our princess happy.
This is her face when she saw Granny's present, a doll in the Barbie Mariposa line that she is currently digging, big time. She also got a Pucci pup (doesn't everyone carry around a cute dog in a purse like Paris?), and a "for-real" microphone, because have mercy, that girl L-U-V-S to sing, night and day, day and night. Now, she's bona fide. Add in a Barbie Wii game and some new "jewels" and her life is now complete. Little girls are something else, and while ours is thoroughly predictable, we just love it that way.

16 July 2008

slow miracles are the only kind that will last

I'll probably never win a "Mother-of-the-Year" award, getting a weepy spot on Oprah for the world to see and cry along with. Most likely there won't be any articles in the paper about my amazing feats as a Mom, and how best to emulate me. When people think of the "greats", it'll be Susannah Wesley who comes to mind, not the SlaughterHouse lady. And no one will be writing memoirs with me as the centerpiece, moving readers with tales of self-sacrifice and generosity. But sometimes the little stuff is ok too. Sometimes the miniature hands that squeeze your face and the legs that stretch on tip-toe just for a sweet kiss is enough. And it needs to be enough. Those little things are my miracles that take me from "I can NOT do this and when can I quit?" all the way to "what will I do when she's gone?". One day she won't need those tip-toes to reach me, and probably won't care to leave her slobbery kisses on my face. Dinnertime will come and go without a declaration that "I need a hug RIGHT NOW!". And requests for a bedtime song will be only memories. Thirty pounds fit quite neatly in my lap right now, curled up for family movie night, but ten years from now she'll need her own space. Will she still curl her hair around her fingers while she sleeps? How about when we are whispering...will she still demand that we "speak Engwish!" I can live without the hair-curling and the lack of her in my lap. I can live without slobbery kisses and frequent bursts of song. But I need to know that she's always mine. I guess I'll have to share her. And probably that's the way I'd want it if I'm honest. But right now I'm not feeling as honest as I am overwhelmed that her years will slip quickly through our home and into her own. But baby Carrie will always have a home here, the place she knew first.

Happy Birthday Sunshine!

09 July 2008

it turns me inside-out

Impossible!!!! My baby is 10. Say it ain't so ,y'all! I'm sure that I'm not old enough to have a kid that has lived for a decade, and I sure don't feel it. Where did the baby go? Well, our immersion into parenthood began with this little pistol, and she was probably a good one to begin on, not being particularly tender with us upstarts who assumed (you know what that does, right??) that we could raise a kid, no problem. She kept us on our toes from day 1, in the months where Uncle Dirk christened her "Fussy Spice" and Auntie lovingly referred to her as "Machine-Gun Molly" because of her odd, staccato cry. And then there were the years of song composing/performing (how many remember "Out of Batteries" or "Everything of Joy"??). Slowly we realized she was a bona fide tomboy, who eschewed dresses and all things pink, rejecting girly giggling and instead opting for bike-riding, tree-climbing, bug collections and animal research. And her Mom loves seeing a reflection of her own childhood in this awesome girl. We love you Molly, you are way cool!

(by the way, this pic was also to show Granny and others her new haircut, courtesy of Aunt Annie. Molly accidentally blew a gum bubble into her hair, and voila, new summer haircut!)