Mama's Little Baby Loves Shortenin' Bread.

Dear Laney,

This afternoon, your grandmother and I took you to REI, just in case not owning a nineteenth pair of shoes was what was keeping you from walking like a pro.

All day long, Peg Peg has been singing this jingle to you:

Mmm mmm, good!

Mmm mmm, good!

That's why Campbell's soups are mmm mmm good!

If you grow up and inexplicably find yourself going through an Andy Warhol phase in which you eat a can of Campbell's soup every day for lunch, and you get hypertension from all the salt in your diet, you'll know who to call and discuss it with. Because after the 60th recitation of that song, I could have gone for some Chicken Noodle myself.

Peg Peg has also been caught singing "Mama's Little Baby Loves Shortenin' Bread," but in your case, you don't just love shortenin' bread, you love ALL bread. We've been joking that you're on the North Beach Diet.

Here's an example of your obsessive carbo love: Tonight, we went out to dinner, and after a fruit plate and an assortment of goodies from everyone's plates, you topped off your meal with a big slice of sourdough. Like a magician who's been working Vegas for 20 years, you're able to palm an entire slice of bread so that it disappears as we're leaving the restaurant, only to show up in your mouth half an hour later as we're shopping at Lowe's:

We discovered another important thing tonight - you LOVE to push the buggy.

So far, you have an A+ in Retail 101 with Professor Peg.

Love,

Mom

"Let Me Tell You About My Day, Uncle Nate..."

Dear Laney,

Today, we mostly hung out at home because we have become slaves to your nap schedule. When you get your naps in, you are a perfectly reasonable miniature human being. When you don't get your naps in, you are a European supermodel who screeches at hotel bellboys and hurls her high heels at the help. Beautiful girl, ugly behavior.

So we waited 'til you got up from your afternoon nap, then we drove into town NOT to do some shopping, but instead to go to the Children's Museum's new "Go Grow Grocery" exhibit. Now that I think of it, practice shopping is still shopping. You know what you put in your cart? Mustard, mustard, mustard and a carrot.

For dinner, we met up with your dad at Brynn and Nate's house, where you ate an entire slice of pizza and topped it off with a piece of cake. And then you got to hang out on the balcony barefoot and yell at the dogs all classy-like.

It's occurring to me that we have very few photos of you with your Auntie Brynn. We must remedy this. She should have a chance to look as nutty as the rest of us.

Love,

Mom

Our Photo Shoot

Dear Laney,

As an early birthday gift to Peg Peg, we met up with our favorite photographer Meghan yesterday at the River Trail. Poor Meghan got to spend the morning taking photos of three generations of hard-headed women.

Peg Peg was committed to getting you to smile for each picture, so she ended up looking very animated in all of the photos.

Evidence below:

It was a beautiful day, and we all had a great time. Thanks, Meghan!

Love,

Mom

The Itsy Bitsy...Say What Now?

Dear Laney,

To entertain you, Peg Peg has been trying to teach you the words and movements to "The Itsy Bitsy Spider." The flaw with this plan is that she doesn't know the words herself, and refuses to learn them. Sometimes the sun comes out, sometimes the sun rains down, sometimes the spider climbs the spout, and sometimes it climbs the rain. You think it's funny as heck, but it makes me want to bang my head on the brick walkway, Laney-style.

This is the same woman who thinks the words to "Christmas Time's A-Comin'" are:

Christmas Time's A-Comin'

Christmas Time's A-Comin'

Christmas Time's A-Comin'

And I don't know the woooords.

You would think that sometime in the past thirty years or so she would LOOK THEM UP, but no.

One day, you're going to learn the real words to the "Itsy Bitsy Spider" and you're going to be very perplexed.

Yeah, like that.

Love,

Mom

And So It Begins...

Dear Laney,

Your grandmother is known for occasionally enjoying a day of shopping...in the same way that Lance Armstrong is known for occasionally enjoying a bicycle ride. So today, we hit the mall.

Because shopping is a marathon and not a sprint, we first had to stop by Famous Dave's Barbecue so you could carbo load on a corn muffin.

I can't believe I'm going to say this, but I think you really liked the mall.

You got to play in the children's play area:

Then, because I accidentally left your stroller at home, you got to ride around in one of the mall's rental strollers, which you thought was super duper awesome. You drove that thing like a mad woman:

Everywhere we went, we kept running into the same beautiful baby:

Eventually, you and I tuckered out, but your grandmother kept going. So we sat down at every opportunity, and entertained ourselves by taking photos of each other. I call this one "Mom and Laney in The Coldwater Creek Accessories Section - All Necklaces 25% Off"

Thank you for being such a sport today. Next time, we'll know to have TWO corn muffins.

Love,

Mom

Tonight...

Dear Laney,

Tonight, in lieu of a bedtime story, you get to do a crossword puzzle. Naked.

Let the good times roll.

Love,

Mom

P.S. Earlier this afternoon, you had one of those tantrums you've been known to have when you don't want to come inside. As a result, you banged your own head on our brick walkway. You cried for a few minutes, but your grandmother cried for half an hour and laid down on the armchair, clutching her heart. It's possible you took a year and a half off her life. Her new policy is that she's not going to tell you "no," because she doesn't want to responsible "for that child putting herself in a coma." This is why you two are sharing a sharp pencil in this photo. As far as Machiavellian grandparent manipulation goes, it was a master stroke, and I think that one head bang is really going to pay off for you.

Peg Peg Incognito

Dear Laney,

Your grandmother arrived yesterday for her visit, but I'm not supposed to take any photos of her until she touches up her hair color and puts her make-up on. Southern women are very serious about their hair (pronounced HAY-ur) so I had to take the photos in this post without her consent.

This summer, your dad and I have been joking that - when it comes to your walking - we're playing grandparent roulette. Every single one of your grandparents visited us this summer, and since you were due to begin seriously walking any minute, it stood to reason that one of your grandparents would hit the walking jackpot. Peg Peg is known for being competitive*, and she's not taking any chances. This afternoon, she had you out in the driveway on a forced march leisurely stroll to help guarantee that you'll get the hang of walking while on her watch.

What Peg Peg doesn't know is that you suffer from a condition known in the military as "mission drift." As in: walk, walk, Hey look - a leaf! walk, walk, Lemme check the tires! walk, walk, Hey look - another leaf! etc.

She's got five more days to get you into prime racing condition.

Cue the "Rocky" soundtrack.

Love,

Mom

* Seriously, don't play board games with her.

Play That Funky Music, White Girl

Dear Laney,

As you may have noticed, September has been a very busy month around our household. Of the 30 days in the month of September, we will have had a guest here on 22 of them. In case I haven't asked these guests this before: WHERE ARE YOU PEOPLE IN FEBRUARY??

Anyhoo, we're a little busy today because Peg Peg is coming tomorrow, I have to get some work done, and we need to clean the house enough that it no longer looks like it has been invaded by an army of other family, friends and infants. Thanks to Gus and Ella for clearing up that macaroni and cheese incident, by the way. Mucho helpful.

But you know what I love about you, Laney? Even in the throes of all this chaos, you're able to pick up a plum and lay down the boogie:

Party on, sweet girl.

Love,

Mom

P.S. I'm not sure if Brian bought you this toy, or if he was just there when I bought it for you, but either way: I blame Brian.

Bye Bye, Samantha

Dear Laney,

Last night was the final night of the Crossley Family visit, and to make sure their vacation went out with a bang, we all sat around and watched your dad install a ceiling fan. Let it be known that the Burbachs know how to PAR-TAY.

Actually, everyone but Sam sat around and watched - Sam actually helped by chewing on the wiring. OK, maybe it didn't help, but it sure entertained the rest of us. Like I always say, every visit to Camp Burbach comes complete with room, board, and free access to electrical current.

Also, I don't know which of the terrible, terrible parents in attendance got the bright idea to put a shoebox on Samantha's head, but she was a real sport about it. More free fun for the grown-ups!

This morning, we took Halloween photos of the two of you (that we'll post on Halloween), and then you guys got to play together one last time.

I think you two are going to miss each other...

Love,

Mom

Afternoon at the "Museum"

Dear Laney,

This afternoon, we all loaded up and went to lunch at The Ranch Club, where you ate most of a Larabar, some apple puffs, a dozen or so sweet potato fries, a few tablespoons of chili, half a piece of bacon and a piece of toast. I am not making this up. You actually balled your fist around that piece of toast and didn't let it go until you finally finished it, half an hour later.

After lunch, we went to the Children's Museum (see - I didn't put quotes around it that time. I'm getting less snobby in my old age). Water was splashed, tunnels were explored, slides were slid, crayons were sorted, and Samantha climbed stairs for the first time.

Now, we're all going to bed because we are T-I-R-E-D.

Seriously, you guys are exhausting.

Love,

Mom

Fort Laney - No Samanthas Allowed

Dear Laney,

So, here's the funny thing about your relationship with Samantha, and by "funny," I mean strange and bewildering and more than a little irritating: You have decided that you're scared of Samantha. No matter how often we remind you that you outweigh her by at least ten pounds, and could walk away if you wanted, there is something about Sam that seems to strike fear in your heart.

Now, I'm not going to lie, the way she crawls is a little kooky. It's maximum energy output for minimum distance gained, and the overall effect is World's Most Precious Wind-Up Doll. I could watch her for hours. Something about having that little crawling girl following you around seems to FREAK YOU OUT and causes you to jog in place and scream. Today, it got so bad that you walled yourself up in a fort made from a barstool and a bunch of Peg Peg's packages.

After we ran a few errands in town, Samantha was so exhausted that she fell asleep in her car seat on the way home. Because Sam hasn't been sleeping too well on this trip, her folks were scared to move her and they camped out at the back of the car to make sure she was okay and that she wouldn't be snatched away by any of the Montana wildlife.

Speaking of bears, after Sam got up from her nap the Crossleys went for a walk down our road, where they heard bear sounds coming from the bushes. So they hitched a ride home in the back of a neighbor's truck. Montana is just one big memory-making machine, I tell you.

By the end of the day, you and Samantha had worked out your differences. You agreed to stop wailing like a banshee every time she looked at you, and Sam agreed to respect your personal space. Or maybe you were just brought together by your mutual love of an empty box.

Another successful day at Chez Burbach.

Love,

Mom

Another Day At Camp Burbach

Dear Laney,

For the second day of their visit with us, the Crossleys made every moment count. First, you took Samantha into the pantry and showed her where to get all the good stuff, like applesauce, cans of peas and Perrier.

Then, we all loaded up and went to the river so the dads could fly fish. You'll never guess what today's so-cool-it's-worth-fighting-over toy was. I'll give you a hint. It was an empty juice box.

In case you're wondering why you're not wearing any pants in that photo, it's because as soon as we got to the river, you toddled on down and did this:

I couldn't even pretend to be irritated with you, because it's exactly the kind of thing I used to do as a child, usually preceded by, "Just let me put a toe in..."

One thing I'll say about Sam: she's a much better sport about being accessorized than you are. She'll actually wear a hat and a pair of sunglasses for longer than o.oo2 seconds without tearing them off and hurling them away like they're on fire.

Before we left, your dad made sure to give you your first fly fishing lesson. It must have worked, too, because you caught the exact same number of fish as your dad and Stephenson combined.*

I took so many cute photos today that they wouldn't all fit. For more, feel free to check them out here.

Can't wait for tomorrow!

Love,

Mom

* The number of fish in this case was zero. This is what you call "fun with statistics."