Letting go...

Next month we will celebrate a big day in our family. On that day, we will focus all of our attention on a sweet little red haired girl who is turning five. We will eat cupcakes for breakfast and sing to her and throw parties and open gifts and tell her how special she is. The day will be all about her, as it should be.

But today, I can't help but realize how much her birth changed my life. On that day, almost five years ago, I became a mom. It was the one thing that I wanted so badly. It was also the one thing that didn't come easily to me. There were long, dark moments when I wondered if God had another plan for me, convinced that He must be confused or mistaken. How could He not see or know or understand how much I wanted to be a mom? Didn't He realize that I would be good at it, that I would try hard, that I would love a baby with every ounce of me?

He's laughing now, don't you think? At the woman who thought she knew it all, the woman who really had no clue what being a mom was all about. If wanting something, so much that your heart ached and your mind refused to focus on anything else, mattered, well...then I would win the Mother of the Year Award. But that's not how it works, is it? We spent three years begging God to hear us... and finally, He provided the answer we so desperately wanted. Our miracle arrived. She blessed us and fulfilled us (and kept us up all night and overwhelmed us and made us wonder if we had any clue what we were doing).

I remember on the day that God gave us this precious gift, I wanted to hold on so tight, love her so perfectly, and never let go. Five years later, I realize how hard it is to hold on tight (as she is desperately trying to make her own way) or to love her perfectly (as I am imperfect, myself). I struggle with all of these things, but mostly, I struggle with letting go.

She's turning five. I remember when everyone told me to enjoy her babyhood, because she would be going to Kindergarten before I knew it. I just rolled my eyes and wondered if I would smell like spit-up forever. But they were right (and I no longer smell like spit-up, thankfully). The Kindergarten registration papers arrived in the mail this week and she's already talking about the big bus that she'll ride next year. And so I begin the painful process of letting go of this sweet child

When she came into my life (screaming and purplish), I felt like I had everything I ever needed, that I would not have to bother the Big Guy (Jesus, not Santa) as much as I had in the past. Do you hear that? He's laughing again. Because He's always known that I will need Him even more as she grows...to calm my fears, to give me patience, to show me how to love her, and mostly...to help me let go.

Next month I will celebrate her and I will try hard not to cry and wonder what happened to my baby. I will love her and I will beg God to help me again...this time, as I slowly let go.

Note to All Moms Who Take Way Too Many Pictures (I'm a card carrying member of that group): Do you see all of that pretty light behind Kate in these pictures? Try to look for nice light when you are taking photos, even if means plunking your kid in the middle of the street in front of your house (as long as it's a quiet street with a 15 mph speed limit). I know what you're thinking...it's no wonder I haven't won the Mother of the Year Award, is it???

The Grand Finale

So I think ("think" being the key word here) that this may be my last Christmas post. But maybe not. I have so many photos. Why in the world do we take so many photos these days? What could we possibly do with 75 photos of the annual gingerbread house construction? Remember when our parents would get out the camera, snap a photo and put it back? Six months later, when the roll of film was finally full, we would get to see the handful of Christmas photos. Those were the good old days.

Speaking of good old days, my family spent the Christmas evening at my parents' house, which hasn't changed much since my childhood. The stockings are still hung upstairs (although they seem to be multiplying) and Santa still makes a visit to the basement to drop of a ridiculously large stash of loot. We eat and open gifts and eat and play games and eat. Did I mention that we eat? A lot? We played Mad Gab and I laughed so hard my stomach hurt (and soda spewed out of my nose). I love that feeling. Christmas 2010...it was one of my very best.
That is one good looking family, don't you think?

Here's a close-up, so you can get a better look!

Ellie was so sad that the gift opening extravaganza was over. She really didn't care what was in the packages, she just wanted to open them. See that face? That's how I always feel when Christmas is over. I love the fun and excitement, the family and the traditions, the focus on Jesus. But I just want to cry when it's all over. I guess I can't blame sweet Ellie for feeling a little sad about the end of a very happy holiday

Christmas Part IXX (or something like that)

I'm back. Told you I wouldn't be gone long. So where were we? Yes...coming out of a foggy haze. Eating shrimp. Marveling at Santa's ability to travel through a faux fireplace. Right. And now we're on to Christmas Morning.

No one woke up early. Isn't that great? I'm not sure when that crazy insanity sets in, causing wee small children to wake their parents on Christmas morning at the butt crack of dawn (as Steve would say, because he's classy like that). But my girls haven't reached that point. When we lazily rolled out of bed around 8:30 a.m., we just wandered downstairs, almost like it was a normal day. Except this was no normal day. It was Jesus's birthday, Santa brought presents, and one look at the tree was all two little red haired girls needed to snap them back into the fun and excitement of the holiday. Watching their faces as they saw the tree and the gifts...now that was magical. So magical, in fact, that I just watched them and smiled like a big goof (and forgot to take pictures of their sweet little faces).

When Grammy and Pappy arrived, the madness began. Ripping, tearing, opening, looking, throwing, ripping and tearing, again. Kate kept saying, "Oh my word, oh my word," which I thought was hilarious until Ellie started saying, "Oh my word, I eber seen." What?!? I think she was trying to say, "Oh my word, this is the best thing I've ever seen." Or something like that. But "Oh my word, I eber seen," was all she could get out, over and over.



Apparently, it was the year of the fairy/princess dress in our household. Poor Steve is surrounded by fluff and sequins and tulle. He's a good man who knows the difference between Belle and Tianna, Silvermist and Tinkerbell! That should serve him well, should there ever be a Disney category on Jeopardy.
Kate's one request from Santa was a snow globe to replace the one she broke over the summer. It was just a tiny request, except she wanted a snow globe with all the princesses in it and she wanted it to have a heart on it and she wanted every princess to be dressed up and she wanted glittery snow inside of it. I told her that Santa might not be able to find that exact snow globe and she replied, "That's okay...his elves can make it." Duh! In the end, I had to explain that Santa's elves had a hard time fitting all the princesses into that tiny snow globe, so they decided to give her a very special one with Tinkerbell inside. She seemed happy with that!
Baby All Gone was a hit, even with Pappy! Ellie pretty much liked everything. When she sat on Santa's lap, she told him she wanted a shiny present with Santa on it. She also mentioned a new sled. Santa managed to bring both (plus a million other things), so she was happy.
And I finally figured why all of our baby dolls are naked. I told Steve that our playroom looks like a scene from "Girls Gone Wild." Notice how Miss Ellie has the baby's hat and pants off before Kate has even finished opening her present. She opened the baby doll and immediately ripped off her clothing. And that's not the only one...Baby All Gone was missing her pants before breakfast.

And there you have it. A magical Christmas morning. Seriously, though...it was a great day. Stay tuned for more. You didn't think I could possibly be finished with Christmas yet, did you? I'll still be sharing Christmas photos at Easter time.

Are you there readers? It's me, Holly....

Remember Me? The girl who used to crack you up with amazingly witty blog posts about life, photography, and red haired little girls? It's fuzzy, isn't it? Kind of like that feeling you have the morning after you've popped two Nyquil at midnight because you just.couldn't.sleep. Fuzzy, distorted, happy yet groggy. I know that feeling well. I was addicted to my beloved Nyquil for two years. But I will save my Nyquil addiction for another post (complete with my insider secrets to kicking the habit. You should wait, with anticipation, for that post).

Well, ladies, now that we've gotten reacquainted...let's review the last few weeks.

There was Christmas Eve. It was fabulous. We went to church (arriving late, of course...did you expect otherwise?...necessitating that we sit in folding chairs in the middle aisle of the santuary). We ate steamed shrimp and bruchetta and cheese fondue and strawberry birthday cake (with sprinkles, because not a day goes by in this household without sprinkles on something) to celebrate Jesus's birthday. We tracked Santa on Norad. We left reindeer food outside and set up a tea party inside (You did know that Santa loves a good tea party midway through his travels, didn't you?). We read "Twas the Night Before Christmas" for the last time of 2010. The girls were giddy and giggly and excited to get to bed before Santa crossed the Atlantic and landed directly on our rooftop. I'm telling you...it was a magical night.



Santa made it (as evidenced in the photo above), traveling down our new-to-us, faux fireplace mantle (purchased on Craigslist for a mere $50). The girls didn't even ask why there was no actual chimney down which Santa could travel. They just believed he would come out of that fireplace. I told you...magical.

And then, when I thought it couldn't get any better, Christmas Day arrived. I'm going to give you a little breather here, to soak it all in, while I write another post. Just sit and relax. And then check back soon. I promise not to take a four week break like I did last time.