Friday, August 28, 2015
We did this.
Haven't been there in many years.
The kids remember the trip from 2006. I had eight kids along that time. This time I had only three.
The little one was a trooper. She napped in the pouch, then was carried around, rode in the stroller and when she couldn't hold her head up anymore, was inserted back into the pouch.
Where she was strapped to Heidi's body.
And she is not all that light.
But it worked. Heidi didn't complain.
I stupidly thought this was some sort of Flintstones ride.
It was a Wiener Dog roller coaster.
There you go.
(Theme song to Fresh Prince of Bel Air? Michael Jackson Billie Jean? It was fine, but very, very loud.)
When we were kids and went to the State Fair, we spent time in the barns, admiring animals and so forth.
They did pet a few sheep and watch one being carefully sheared and pet a baby pig, while the pig farmer talked about a hog farm's carbon footprint.
No argument from me.
I have no idea.
Is there anything but?
Wednesday, August 26, 2015
I found some.
You were patient and a great baby wrangler.
(Know that feeling?)
And this classic birthday photo:
And you can see what a big night like this could do to a girl's nerves. It was hotter than hell, no doubt. We didn't have any air conditioning at all. It was at that crescendo point of a birthday party where it's getting late, and time for cake.
Pssht. Get this girl her blanky, a big glass of cold water, and let's go sit in front of the fan.
Here's tonight--you and your most adorable, sweetest girls in the whole world:
I tell this freely to other parents:
Adult children are a pleasure I never imagined.
You muddle along, yelling about shit, and cleaning up weird messes, keeping the bills paid and the laundry from mildewing, and it just feels like Scruffy-ville.
Nobody told me I was growing my best friends.
I should have known. My mom is an angel who would do anything for me.
My grandma doted on me and I adored her, just like my mom and her grandmas.
I still didn't get it.
Now I do.
You're something else. We laugh about how you parent your first kid like she's the third one because of all of my babies you helped me raise. And it's true. This is an absurdly rascally situation, but also nothing that can't be summed up by an eye roll.
And you share those babies with me so freely. No, I don't put her in time out. But today we did exchange a brief little snappy conversation about her shoes left in the car after grocery shopping.
I said, "Don't forget your shoes."
She said, "Grandma, I only have two hands."
(Yeah, and two feet. Why are your shoes not on them?)
I didn't say that. I said, as I lugged her sister and car seat across the seat and out the door, "Girl. I got zero hands. GET YOUR SHOES."
Oh my goodness, I love her.
Happy Birthday, Heidi.
love forever, Mom and Dad and Everyone
Tuesday, August 25, 2015
And now you have your own cute kids:
And when that little one gets a little bigger, you guys go back to Mexico again. We will watch them while you're gone.
You are hard-working and disciplined, organized and conscientious. You are practical and yet a little artistic, and completely trustworthy. One of the nicest compliments anyone ever paid me was a house-cleaning reference, and he had a somewhat sketchy reputation himself. He said, "You could trust her with your baby, your dog, your car, and all your money."
But he could have been talking about you as well.
And you also have a fine, sarcastic sense of humor, astute observations, sometimes a little blunt, but also pretty forgiving.
This is one of my favorite pictures. Besides all that other stuff, this one cuts right to the pure sweetness of you.
Thanks for being our kid.
We're lucky and we know it.
love, Mom and Dad, and Everybody
Sunday, August 23, 2015
This is a photo of us going through the channel to the sink hole.
Even the wake from the motor is a distinctive rusty color.