Happy Birthday Letter

Dear Rosemary,

Today you are 3. When you went to bed last night, you were very excited that you would wake up a whole new number. After you fell asleep, I told your daddy what a big deal 3 seems like.



At 1 and 2 you didn’t really care about your birthday, didn’t care about cake or presents, didn’t care that a loud, boisterous song was being sung to you. At 1 and 2 you were still a terrible sleeper and I was still going through life in a big haze of exhaustion. At 3 presents and cake are huge, and I just got an even 8 hours of sleep.



In the last year, we have experienced so much change and you have been such a good sport through it all. Your daddy and I have both gone through job changes, you and I have lived apart from your daddy, we’ve moved far away from all your friends and family; and through it all you have been a very stable, mature little girl.



These days you and I are together a lot, and we’re having fun. In some ways you are my best friend in this strange new town and strange new house where we know very few other people. We play together, giggle together, shop and drink coffee together (you drink water and pretend it’s coffee) – you are good company, Rosemary. I mean that.



You make good conversation. I have to control my doting parent desires here, but I sincerely believe your verbal skills are advanced. You speak surprisingly complete sentences. At times, your grammar is more correct than my own. You are funny, you tell good jokes, and you make me laugh. You also realize when something stops being funny and generally give up on the matter.



This, I believe, is why your coordination is a little lacking. A kid can only grow in so many ways at one time. You still waste a lot of energy when you run. You enjoy riding your bike, but generally end up turning in circles because you’re so busy looking to your left and your right.

Music is a big deal to you these days. The weather has been warmer and you have been asking for the car windows to be down and the music to be loud, which is so funny to me. I’m happy to oblige, but not really certain how you know to like that sort of thing. I do not blast music, you didn’t learn this from me. You are a big fan of the banjo, violin, trumpet, and drums. Those are the instruments you pretend to play and you can even pick their sounds out of songs.



You are also really learning to play by yourself and with other kids. Your imagination is growing by leaps and bounds. You make trains drive through tunnels, your Little People and Polly Pockets have extensive conversations together, you play hide and seek (if not a little awkwardly and always giving your spot away).

You do all those things that little kids do. And that’s the thing that gets me. Somehow you stopped being a baby. Entirely. Sometimes you ask me to hold you like a baby and I can barely fit you in my arms. You are Rosemary June, 3-years-old, and not turning back. And I’m okay with that. This life we’re living is a good one and I feel incredibly blessed to have you along for the ride.

I love you to the moon and back.
Mommy

Just think of the things we can do.

Confessions of an accidental scrapbooker.

I've always had an interest in scrapbooking, but it was before it was called "scrapbooking" and done in a very different way.

For instance, in high school, I scrapbooked on my wall. My mom wouldn't let me paint the wall, but she said I could hang whatever I wanted. I took what she said and ran with it. There was not a single inch of wall on that wall. I hung anything and everything. Pictures from magazines that I liked, photographs, paper that contained my favorite colors, everything I made in graphics class (oh, graphics class, how I miss it!), shrinky dinks, coloring pages, socks, mementos, silverware stolen from restaurants (don't tell anyone), license plates that were no longer being used, and so, so much more.

In my dorm room, I cut out flowers from catalogs and wall papered an entire wall.

Eventually I had to downscale and so I moved it to books. I guess it makes sense that eventually I moved to a more grown-up style and started scrapbooking parts of my life ... but the true, only reason that I started scrapbooking was to reconnect with an old, good friend who I hadn't really talked with in years.

And once you start, you're stuck. So here I am, an accidental scrapbooker. I would not call it a passion - it's something I enjoy doing, but not something I love doing. I mostly love getting together with other friends to scrapbook, and to me, it's more about connecting with friends than getting pictures on a page.

However, Rosemary is almost three and it has been a goal of mine to finish her first year before her third year is over. So here we are.

To be honest, I've been in a crafty slump as it is. You know how it is, there are lots of ideas in my head, but I lack time and mostly motivation to actually do anything ... so it would seem a nice deadline is in order for me anyway. I've got one week left and two more months to go.

I'm hoping this will get my creative juices flowing, because I'd really like to start working on something like this ...

Welcome to the Upper Midwest.

I could not, could not resist posting this picture. When I saw it last weekend, I forced Joel to pull over so we could capture it. Okay, this is a little further north than I live. But, you get the picture! I have moved into a very new, very different place. One where I can buy a gun, a video game, and some books for my child in the same place.

Also a place where when you walk into a store, you may see Paul Bunyan and Babe the Blue Ox salt and pepper shakers (which I could not resist buying). Oh yeah, and you're likely to see a fishing bobber propane tank in random front yards.

Although I hope to refrain from growing a mullet (okay, truth be told, I've only seen a handful of mullets so far), I definitely plan to embrace this life while we're living it. Or at least to enjoy all the photo opportunities it presents itself!