Leavin'...On A Jet Plane...

Dear Laney,

I'm at the Missoula Airport this morning because I have to fly to LA for a few days for work. Your Grandma Sue is coming over to help your dad out, and I'm sure the three of you will have a good time while I'm gone. You'll probably watch the Super Bowl this afternoon, because for some reason I can't fathom, you seem to really love football.

This will be the first time I've spent more than 5 hours away from you since you were born. I'm trying to act like a grown-up, but I'm not off to a very good start since I cried all the way to the gas station in Frenchtown this morning.

My friend Will says that this will be good for us, because if we don't start spending a little time apart, you're going to end up like one of those 16 year old socially awkward home-schooled girls with big bangs and a long denim skirt. And we don't want that.

But know that I will be thinking of you every minute, and I've packed a photo album of your pictures in case some random stranger stops me in the airport and says "Excuse me, ma'am, but do you happen to have a five month old child that you'd like to show me pictures of?" If that happens, I will be able to say "Why yes, I do."

Love,

Mom

P.S. While I was packing this morning, your dad dressed you all by himself. He brought you downstairs in a shirt only, and when I asked "Where are her pants?" he said "We had a talk and decided we don't like pants."

Your New Trick

Dear Laney,

Here's what we're learning about you: If a developmental milestone requires physical effort, you're not interested...UNLESS that physical effort results in getting food into your mouth faster. See below:

Well, We Had A Good Run

Dear Laney,

For months now, you've been going to be at 8pm every night. No muss, no fuss. Then last night, you decided you would NOT be going to bed. At all.

Like Scarlett O'Hara, you shook your fists at the heavens and declared that, as God is your witness, you would never be tired again. No, nor any of your kin.

I felt bad for you, so I started to go upstairs to get you. And as soon as I put one foot on the steps, you stopped crying. Suspicious, I thought. So I came back downstairs. And you cried again. So I started to go upstairs...and you stopped. This is when I realized I was being manipulated by a five month old.

Your dad and I were going to be strong. We were going to let you "cry it out," like the books suggest. That lasted about 4 minutes until your crying was interrupting our movie. So I went and got you and let you hang out in your swing until the movie was over. It was totally because I was enjoying the movie and NOT because I'm a pushover who can't stand to hear you cry. Totally.

Anyhoo, thanks for being the perfect baby for five whole months. Now, your dad and I are looking forward to decades of fake tears, foot stomping and dramatic hair flips. And at the rate we're going, I might as well go ahead and tattoo "Sucker" on my forehead.

Love,

Mom

Life Lessons - #2

Dear Laney,

There were times when I was growing up that Peg Peg and I didn't always see eye to eye. Looking back, I know that this is partly because we were (and are) so similar: we're both hard-headed with a tendency toward bossiness. And that's okay, because those are the kind of people who end up running the world...and I've always thought your grandmother was just a few steps away from world domination.

But with a little time and distance, I can also look back and admit that those occasions when I got in trouble, it was usually because I was being a total pill.

...like the time I wrapped myself around the gumball machine at Gayfers Department Store, and refused to leave unless someone bought me some candy.

...or the time I went into the boy's bathroom at school and hit a boy for taking something from my 6 year old wimpy boyfriend.

...or the time Peg went to Skatehaven Roller Rink to pick me up from a field trip, only to discover that I was back at school because I had gotten in trouble for not following directions and the teacher didn't let me get on the bus.

Anyway, for the 18 years that we lived together, this was always the pattern:

1. Brooke does something wrong/misbehaves/acts out/is a pill/hurts her mother's feelings.

2. Brooke goes to her room and slams the door, because whatever just happened couldn't possibly be HER fault.

3. Peg Peg knocks on the door, sits on the bed, and makes it all better.

4. Brooke thinks "Wow. I KNOW this whole thing is my fault, but she's still willing to be the one to come in here and talk first. This woman must REALLY love me. Because I am A PILL."

And somewhere along the line, I learned what unconditional love is. It looks a lot like this:

No matter what I did, she never quit talking to me. Now that I'm on the other side of the parent/child divide, I understand exactly what she was feeling.

Which brings us to today's lesson:

There is nothing you could do to

make me stop loving you.

Nothing.

...although I would really appreciate it if you would stay out of the boys' room, and keep the public tantrums to a minimum.

Love,

Mom

Advanced Babysitting Techniques

Dear Laney -

If I tried to get away with this, you would scream at me.

Just sayin'.

click here

Love,

Mom

I Would Like To Discuss Your Sense Of Humor

Dear Laney,

Last night, in an effort to entertain you, I did a full-scale interpretive dance to the 80s hit "You Spin Me Round"

You spin me right 'round, baby,

right 'round,

like a record baby,

right 'round 'round 'round.

You were not impressed (see photo above).

Then, your dad said "I could go for a taco salad."

You thought this was HILARIOUS.

So he said it again:

"Taco salad."

giggle, giggle

"Taco salad."

laugh, laugh

"Taco salad."

SQUEEEEAL

Laney, I'm not sure I want to live in a world where Mexican food is funny, but modern dance isn't. Either your sense of humor isn't fully developed yet, or you're going to grow up to program one of the major networks.

Love,

Mom

Hope Your Birthday Is Delicious.

Dear Grandma Sue -

Happy Birthday!

Love,

Thor, Brooke & Laney