Ready To Roll

Dear Laney,

We leave tomorrow on our week-long tour of The Confederacy, or at least Alabama ("Birthplace of Civil War and Civil Rights") and Georgia (Birthplace of Your Mama and The Pool Room Hot Dog).

In preparation for our departure, we got washed up and packed up.

We even stopped by the library to pick up a few books for the plane ride.

Tomorrow, it will be just you and me on various planes for a total of 6 hours. Here's hoping we're still speaking when we land.

Love,

Mom

The Streak Continues

Dear Laney,

It seems that tensions between you and Santa Claus have not cooled over the past year. Because if you liked last year's Santa photo...

...you're going to LOVE this year's:

You took one look at Santa, and I could tell things were going to go downhill in a hurry. By the time we propped you on his lap, you were bawling. But in your defense, Santa did smell strangely of coffee and cigarettes.

I thought if I held you it might help the situation, even though I had shown up at the mall with no make-up and in sweatpants. It was after a moment like this when someone first coined that phrase about two wrongs not making a right. But at least my crying pulls some of the focus from your crying, am I right? Incidentally, I am crying over yet another failed $30 photo session.

See you next year, Santa!

Love,

Mom

Raising The Stakes. Flooding The Floor.

Dear Laney,

Yesterday on the phone, Granny Jack mentioned how impressed she was by your ability to drink from a straw. Today, you decided to raise the stakes by practicing drinking from the biggest big-girl cup in the house.

It was your average mixture of triumph and tragedy.

I should tell you that at least once a day, your dad and I look at each other, sigh, and say, "Thank God for laminated flooring."

Love,

Mom

An Awkward Aside

Dear Grandparents,

I found myself in a heap of trouble last August when I suggested that Laney didn't need anything for her birthday. I got a negative response from everyone except my mother, who decided to go with denial as her strategy and said, "Well, I assumed that didn't apply to me." Fiddle Dee Dee.

So in case anyone is wondering - and this is NOT a solicitation for gifts, because again, the baby doesn't need a darn thing - these are some things Laney would enjoy:

Lift-the-flap and pop-up books. Large bricks of Tillamook cheese or a lovely Hillshire Farms gift basket (I am 20% joking). Anything featuring "The Backyardigans" - we only have the "Escape From The Tower" DVD. She has enough clothes to choke a goat, but in case you wanted to know, she wears a 24M / 2T with a size 5 shoe. An iTunes gift card (I'm not making this up - she likes to play the interactive games on my iPod and we've about worn out the three games we have). She's starting to get into coloring (see previous post) so an easel would be great. Or a table and chair set for her bedroom. She's into sorting things - she has one of those stacking rings sets and a shape-sorting ball, and she loves both, so maybe something in that vein. She loves doing projects w/ her dad, so maybe a toy tool set/Laney tool box (so far, she only has a ratchet - thanks again, Uncle Nate!).

As always, we would prefer you to save your money for plane tickets, because seeing you is the best gift she could have. And I'm not just saying that to be nice.

Also, if you get her anything like the dress at the top of this post, I will write you a lovely thank-you note about how it makes Laney look like a mini-Rockette. Then, I'll return it to JC Penney so fast it'd make your head spin. That's how we do it in Dixie.

Love,

Brooke

The Artistic Process

Dear Laney,

We decided to make a birthday card for Peg Peg today, which - like everything you do - involved our whole living room and a wardrobe change. You just can't put restraints on true artistic genius.

Love,

Mom

Baby's First Black Friday

Dear Laney,

At 4:40am on the dot, you woke up, threw your arms in the air and started running in circles while squealing. "Oh no," your dad said, "She's got the gene." What he means is that your grandmother Peg Peg also wakes up before the crack of dawn to go head-to-head against the bargain-hunting masses on Black Friday. It doesn't matter if she needs anything or not. Cool stuff could be out there and we must find it before anyone else. Or, as Peg used to say when she'd wake me up on Black Friday, "GET UP! SOMEBODY'S TOUCHIN' OUR STUFF!"

That's "the gene"your dad was referring to - the crazy one.

So at 5-something in the morning, you, your dad, Grandma Sue and I all got in the car and went to Toys R Us. It was madness. MADNESS, I say. As were the next four stores we hit.

We had to have breakfast at IHOP to recover some of the calories we burned throwing elbows and wrestling for deals. Per the usual, you unpacked, resorted and repacked your sugar packets while waiting on your silver dollar pancake platter.

We eventually had to take Grandma Sue home and say good-bye. We want to be sure she knows how much we enjoyed our Thanksgiving, and how determined we are to do all of our shopping online next year.

One good thing about Black Friday: it wore your butt out, and we didn't hear a peep out of you all the way home.

Love,

Mom

P.S. There's a funny phenomenon that happens when your grandmothers have their picture taken with you. They get so invested in trying to entertain you that they forget that they're also in the photo, as are the funny faces they're making. What I'm trying to say is, despite photographic evidence to the contrary, your grandmothers aren't really crazy people.

Thanksgiving Day

Dear Laney,

This year, we drove over to Spokane to spend Thanksgiving with your Grandma Sue and Erik. You particularly enjoyed pointing out the window at the wild turkeys and chewing on the decorative pine cones.

Normally, this would be followed by 18 rounds of the game we like to call "Don't Eat It!," but after three hours in the car with you, my resistance had been beaten down. I'll say one thing about you: when you're ready to get out of the car seat, you are READY TO GET OUT. You decided you were ready somewhere around Superior, Montana - approximately 150 miles from our destination. At the point this picture was taken, I probably would have let you gnaw on a car battery.

You know what else you didn't like? When your Grandma Sue rigged up an ingenius booster seat out of phone books, then tied you to your chair with a scarf. Oh, the indignity. (Pictured here is Erik's daughter Lisa, who is great fun, and let you feed her turkey).

The only way Grandma Sue could console you was to hold you in her lap and feed you ice cream. If I've said it once, I'm sure I'll say it a million times more on this blog - Grandmas are SUCKERS, and you need to quit using your power for evil.

The food was great, and the company was great. At the end of the day, the girls hopped in the hot tub, where you kicked and played with a rubber duckie and I counted the minutes 'til bedtime.

Love (and Happy Thanksgiving!) -

Mom

How Your Mama's Mind Works

Dear Laney,

Today, you and your dad had lunch at Bernice's Bakery and went to the hardware store while I had my hair cut. After I came out of the salon, I waited on the sidewalk for you and Dad to pick me up. And that's when I saw a deer - a buck, even - leisurely making his way across the street in downtown Missoula. He was just ambling along across the road, as if he was on his way to Safeway to pick up some last-minute groceries for Thanksgiving.

And that's when I swear I thought all of the following things, in this order:

1) I could chase him down, throw an arm around his neck and wrestle him down to the ground.

2) 'Course, I'd have to hold him 'til Thor got here, because he's the one with the hunting license.

3) But if Thor doesn't have a gun in the truck, the whole thing would just be embarrassing.

Yeah, Points #1 and #2 (the chasing and wrestling a deer in downtown Missoula and pinning it down while I waited on my carpool) seemed like perfectly acceptable behavior in my mind, until I got to Point #3.

I have obviously lived here too long.

Love,

Mom

You Know What's Irritating?

Dear Laney,

You know what's irritating? When it's winter in Montana, and someone who lives in a tropical resort location like south Georgia e-mails you their weather forecast in an e-mail entitled, "Wish You Were Here." It kinda makes me want to kick that person in the shins. Especially when their forecast looks like this:

Despite the 5 degree temperatures today, we made our own Montana fun. Your dad got our the dog sled and we took it for its first run with the dogs attached. You thought it was an average Tuesday afternoon, and I thought it was a thrill ride on a death trap.

You didn't seem to mind that it took me an hour to get you dressed so you could play outside for twenty minutes.

After I put on your shirt and sweater and snow bibs and jacket and smartwool socks and snow boots and gloves and hat, your dad said "That might be overkill." Did you hear the part where I said FIVE degrees? I can't even make sense of that in my head. I just know that it makes anything that's in your nose freeze solid in 2 minutes or less. Yesterday on the radio, the DJ said "It's beginning to feel like winter." I wanted to kick him in the shins, too.

After our sled ride, we had some celebratory chocolate, which is the best part of any outdoor adventure.

So, we're going to ignore the people in other parts of the country who are laughing at our climate. And when August rolls around and they're spending the day in 99% humidity, painting nail polish on their chigger bites, we're going to do the Christian thing...

...write a blog post about how it's 72 here.

Love,

Mom

P.S. The picture at the top of this post might be my favorite photo I've ever taken of you.

Oh What A Difference A Year Makes

I Forget Which Circle...

Dear Laney,

Today, I drove a screaming toddler through four inches of snow so I could have my teeth cleaned. I did not finish reading Dante's Inferno like I was supposed to in 12th grade, but I'm pretty sure that combination of activities was featured in one of the circles of Hell.

I put the camera on the dashboard and shot 15 seconds of footage, just in case anyone wants to see what life is like on our road today:

Your dad came and got you while I had my teeth done, and entertained you for the afternoon. I'm not sure what you crazy kids did, but it wore you slap out. This was the view in the rearview mirror all the way home. Nice work, Dad.

Why yes, you ARE wearing legwarmers and a Hello Kitty hat and a sweatshirt with the sleeves rolled up. We're bringing the 80s back, baby.

Love,

Mom

Elks and Cedar and Bubbles. Oh my.

Dear Laney,

Today, your dad went elk hunting with your uncle Nate and Cedar's dad Todd. While they were out tromping through the 12 degree forest looking for signs of elk poop, Brooke and Cedar came over to play. Like civilized people, we cranked the fire up to "insanely hot" - a temperature previously trademarked by your dad - and pretended it was a lovely summer day. With extra snacks.

The Other Brooke took some very cute pictures of you and Cedar while you were playing. Brooke likes this one, because it sort of looks like Cedar is plotting your demise. Or maybe Cedar thinks all that head-patting is a little patronizing. Note that she was able to pull off your sock, so you should probably keep an eye on her in the future. She's crafty.

I sort of prefer this photo, because it looks like we just bailed the two of you out of jail, and y'all haven't quite gotten your story together about what exactly went down last night. But you should have been there, dude, it was awesome.

I'm sure it goes without saying that your dad didn't shoot an elk. If he had, this post would have been titled: STOP THE PRESSES: THOR ACTUALLY CAUGHT SOMETHING.

Thanks to the Barnibbes for a super fun day, and thanks to Brooke for letting us post the photos to the blog.

Love,

Mom

Hold On To Your Hat

Dear Laney,

As I was explaining to you a little while ago, your dad built you a sled. A super-official, heavy-duty, outta-my-way kind of sled. Today, the two of you decided to take it for a test drive. I would have told you to hang on to your hat, but you already had it covered.

Eventually, your dad wants to hook up the dogs to the sled and have them pull the two of you. The very idea raises my blood pressure to the nth degree. Luckily, the snow wasn't deep enough today to involve those chowderheads.

I think at first you were a little taken aback by the sledding process, but by the time Dad decided he was tired of hauling you around, you decided that sledding was awesome, and you didn't want to quit.

By the end of the excursion, you were so amped up that there was no calming you down - once again, you made a run for the border.

That last photo is what happened when your dad tried to teach you to jump up and say, "Hooray!" You got the bending your knees part down, but then would just stand up and clap for yourself. Close enough, I say.

Love,

Mom

You Get More Done By Noon Than Most Toddlers Do All Day

Dear Laney,

Whew, big day.

First, we got up and went into town for Tiny Tot Tales at the library.

Instead of sitting with all the other kids, you just wanted to stand in front and keep an eye on things. I think the librarian appreciated that you clapped for her after every song or story. You also Hokey-Pokeyed your heart out, although you seemed to get a little fixated on the "turn yourself about" part, and just spun in a circle for a while. There's one at every party.

Then, you and Dad and I went to lunch at Famous Dave's, where you ate a bowl of macaroni and cheese and made some serious progress with your fork skills.

Why yes, your hair does look insane today. In fact, you look a little like Doc Brown in "Back To The Future." But that's what happens when you yank out your barrette, chew on it, and rub mac n' cheese in your hair. That's why you never read about that beauty regimen in ladies magazines - because it makes you look cuckoo.

We stopped at the Feed Store to buy some local eggs on the way home, and the Egg Lady thanked you for liking her eggs. I told her if she would also get into the cheese business, she could have a monopoly on your diet.

Here's a new habit you have: slinging open our front door and making a run for it. Dad foiled your runaway attempt by catching you before you hit the Idaho border.

I'm thinking we should attach one of those LoJack devices to you.

Love,

Mom

Let's Go With Option B

Dear Laney,

I could have written a post about how it snowed again today, so we put on our coats and went outside to play. You had a great time, even though your snow boots are two sizes too big, because that's the smallest size they make. The End.

But you know what I thought might be more fun? A 90-second tribute to "Dr. Zhivago," as performed by a toddler.

Hope you enjoy.

Love,

Mom

Fashion Forward

Dear Laney,

This afternoon, you moseyed into the bathroom, opened up my jewelry drawer and helped yourself to some accessories.

You draped yourself in one necklace, and when a second necklace wasn't big enough to go over your head, you decided to wear it like a headband, even though - and correct me if I'm wrong - if I offered you a hundred bucks, you wouldn't wear a hat.

After getting dolled-up, you climbed upstairs and spent the afternoon reading.

I understand - I also have days when I'm in the living room, wrestling with the dog and eating string cheese when I'm suddenly overcome with the idea I could look more fabulous.

Love,

Mom

P.S:

I include this last picture, because 1) Peg Peg makes that same face all the time and 2)it might be the first time I've ever captured your teeth on film.