Cupcake Calendar: October

Okay, I'll come right out and admit that this calendar page is not my best work -- not in this calendar, and definitely not since. But I find these pictures very useful as a reference tool.

For one thing, that picture on the left, where Shae is dressed as a skunk? That's one of the earliest pictures we have of her, taken by her former foster family. And I'm not sure if you can tell in the small version, but if you make the image larger, you will be able to tell that Shae was ... chunk-style back then. She's a sturdy girl now, tall and strong, but nobody can call her "chunky" any more, not even after she eats three pancakes and a whole 15-ounce can of peaches for breakfast. (We think another growth spurt is coming.)

Two-thirds of these pictures are from only a year ago, and still I cannot believe how much different she looks now, and yet how much she is still the same. I've said it before, but she is definitely not a baby any more. She's too old for Blue's Clues now, but not yet ready for The Simpsons. She doesn't have the chubby cheeks, and she doesn't fit into that orange shirt any more (which is a pity, because I love that outfit), but you can already see a bit of the devil in her eyes. Which is exactly the way we love her.

Party Time! Excellent!

Yesterday my cousins Phil and Kim threw themselves a fantastic first anniversary housewarming tailgate party. Lots of people, lots of kids, lots of fun.

When my parents came, they brought the bubble machine. Awesomosity ensued.

There were some balloons up as decoration, and Shae was very intrigued by her reflection in the Mylar. She kept yelling, "I can SEE myself!"

She also liked the balloon weights. (So do the cats -- we brought a balloon with a weight home, and there is a lot of jockeying for position between Shae and the furbabies.)

Probably the only time you'll ever see me put this in writing anywhere: Go Vols!

Smiles all around, which is as ringing an endorsement of a party as you're ever going to get. Thanks Phil and Kim!

Gratuitous Cute-ity

There is absolutely no reason for this picture, really.

I just think it's just really, really cute. (That's a morning glory in her hair.)

Words Fail Me

It's Friday afternoon and I'm full of pizza and no beer, so I'm kind of out of snark and funny, so let's just throw some more pictures and up and we can all pretend that my caption commentary is clever, right? Our little secret? Nobody needs to know.

This kid, and those eyelashes! I hate her sometimes, I really do*. And I know that envy is one of the Seven Deadly Sins (right? sloth, anger, greed, envy, cigarettes, vodka, fornication?) but I can't help myself -- her eyes are lovely, and her eyelashes are totally worth killing for. Except I'm too lazy, and anyway, who would I kill? Max Factor? He's already dead. Moving on.

Oh! And the perfect little ringlets! This kid is a brat** -- I am sending her off to live in a convent with some horrible penguin-frocked nuns who make her scrub the floors and sweep the chimneys and cook the pies and wash the laundry and feed the ducks. Wait, that isn't a convent, that's the castle where Cinderella lives. And I hate princesses, plus I'm already the wicked (step)mother. So never mind.

The only thing that makes living with this kid even barely tolerable*** to my fractured self-image is the fact that she is some sort of spawning ground for snotballs that are incredibly resistant to Photoshop. Although, somehow she makes them work, which is even more infuriating. Plus, I took her picture while she was all boogered up, so I guess that says more about my failings as a parent then it does about her. "Look at me, I'm the horrible mom with the runny-nosed gremlin!"

She's not completely perfect, of course, just practically perfect, like Mary Poppins****. But sometimes, when she's pretending to be a froggy in her bedroom after we get our jammies on, sometimes she gets the hiccups and then bonks into the dresser with her forehead. Fortunately there was no blood, just a teensy little scratch, but of course we needed a Band-Aid, and because I love her so much, I let her use one of my Magical Unicorn Bandages.

But I made her put it on herself.


* = Lies. Never happens.
** = Damn lies. She's awesome.
*** = Goddamn lies. It's a fairy tale, really.
**** = This part is true, actually. Practically perfect in every way.

A Very Merry Un-Birthday

Dear Shae,

Today is your half birthday -- you are two and a half today. And oh my ears and whiskers, how big you are getting! I can hardly believe my eyes: you are growing right in front of me.

I don't remember being two and a half, because it was a very long time ago, but I bet it was a whole lot of fun. I know it's a whole lot fun watching you being this age, and terribly exciting, too -- you're always running off somewhere, to pick a yellow flower or read a new book or put together another puzzle. It's exhausting for me, sometimes, because I can't always keep up with you, but I really enjoy trying to catch up.

I hope that today is twice as awesome as yesterday was, and that all your tomorrows are doubly so. I want every day to be awesome, because you are awesome. You are so very, very awesome. And I love you.

Onward and upward we grow, kiddo. Now blow out the candle, my dear, and make your wish come true. A very merry un-birthday to you!

Love, Mommy.