Chippy 2013-It's a Tough Job, but Someone's Got to Do It.

My recent lack of blogging is directly related to the indecent amount of time I've spent in the last few weeks moonlighting as an elf.

Yes, I'm well aware of how pathetic this sounds.

On my first morning as a stay at home mom, I spent forty five minutes making elf sized pancakes, digging out our elf-sized appetizer forks and pouring OJ into a medicine cup.

Forty. Five. Minutes. I'm still not sure if I should be proud or embarrassed by this fact.

A few days later, I used an entire roll of wrapping paper and twenty minutes of my life that I will never get back to wrap our toilet.

Dear God, I wrapped our toilet.

I dumped flour on our counters and forced elf arms and legs to make a snow angel.

I later had to spend at least fifteen minutes cleaning said "snow" off of our counters, cabinets and floors. And an additional twenty minutes giving a toy elf a sponge bath.

On a day of little motivation, I snuck into Tyson's room and colored his nose. I was proud of the idea that took such little time.

By the looks of it, Tyson was not.

I dumped blue food coloring in our toilet bowl, added goldfish and carefully constructed a candy cane fishing pole.

Read that again and tell me you don't think I'm certifiably insane.

I dug out all of our play and real doctor supplies and staged a "sick" day for the elf. I added used tissues to set the scene and tucked a stuffed elf into bed.

It was cute.

Until I realized I had staged the sick scene directly in front of a large bottle of wine. "Sick" elf doubled as "hung-over" elf.

 

 

Maybe I was sending myself subliminal messages?

Suffice it say, I am watching the clock and counting down the minutes until I can hang up my elf shoes for the season. Hopefully by the time Christmas 2014 rolls around, I will forget the hours I've described above and remember the minutes like the one below that makes this grueling job (somewhat) worth it.

 

 

 

 

Retired (for now)

Today is my first day reporting to my new(and certainly more demanding) bosses:

 

 

 

When I returned to work after each maternity leave, I cried the entire drive in. Then I sat at my desk and cried some more.

 

If I’m being honest though, most of my maternity leaves were spent crying, so, in perspective a few hours at work wasn’t a huge ordeal. Hormones, man….  

 

After a couple of weeks back at work, I eventually realized I could survive being away from the kids for 10 hours a day. And so could they! I slowly adjusted back into my job and managed the working mommy thing pretty incredibly. It was hard-some days it frankly sucked.   I missed them a ton, but I also knew that they were gaining a sense of independence while we were away. I understood that daycare and, later, a nanny could teach them things that  Daddy and I couldn’t. I knew that I was proud of the work I was doing away from home. It provided me with a sense of accomplishment. It provided us with extra spending money. It allowed me adult conversation and a chance to use my brain for things other than remembering how long formula could sit out on the counter. Eventually it would teach our kids that Mommies are smart, hardworking, important, intelligent,  and valued outside of our standard job of wiping butts, doing arts and crafts and singing lullabyes. I can do math and I can change diapers!  I am amazing!

 

I was lucky. My company allowed me to work part time. After Mila was born, I reduced my schedule to just three days a week. They were accommodating in every sense of the word. They allowed me to leave early for conferences and arrive late when the weather was bad. They understood my situation and they valued me as an employee.

 

This made it hard to leave.  I knew I had it good. I knew I was lucky. I knew that I was teaching my kids values that I wanted to instill in them. But, ultimately,  I also knew that I will never regret being able to spend more time with my kids. On the other hand, I would regret having the opportunity and means to do so and not doing it.

 

And, so, here I am. Coffee in hand, puzzles on the table, Christmas music blaring, two kids running around like crazy and I’m happy. Deciding to retire at age 32 wasn't the easy decision one might imagine, but I'm certain it will be a good one for our family.

 

PS: This postscript was going to be about how awesome my husband is for letting me do this, but then I came home to this "retirement" present:

 

 

 

 

He's lucky he's still alive

CUTE!! CUTE!! CUTEEEE!!!

Last week, Daddy was out of town for 5 days straight.

 

Coincidentally,  Mother Nature dropped our first big snow storm of the season during his absence.

 

I’m pretty sure she hates me. Or, she just likes a good laugh.

 

My commute home on Monday took two hours. I slid past the entrance to our development and discovered a new dent in the back of my car upon pulling into our garage.  

 

Not one to let Mother Nature win, I plastered a smile on my face and told the kids we were going outside to play in the snow as soon as I walked in the door. Then I spent the last hour of daylight we had left putting on hats and straightening mittens and zipping up coats and pulling on boots and putting mittens under coat arms and adding extra layers of socks and putting up hoods and putting down hoods. By the time we were ready to go have fun it was nearly bedtime. Or I was just hoping it was bedtime.

 

We had barely opened the garage door when  I heard it. “CUUUUUTTTTEEEE!!!” And again, “CUTE! CUTE! CUTE!”  Sister was screaming “cute” to the snow at the top of her lungs. She ran outside trying to grab each little flake to tell it how “CUTE!” it was.

 

 

 

 

Moments like these, I thank God he gave me a baby girl. Because little girls can find the “CUTE!” in anything.  Even the snow storm/commute from hell/ new unknown dent in your car days.

 

And with every “CUTE!” she yelled my heart swelled a little thinking of how happy this snow storm that I was hating was making her. Take that, Mother Nature.

 

Brother loved the snow too. Snow angels and sleds and all.

 

 

 

 

 

Giving Thanks

Tyson and Mila,

 

This summer, my mommy  told me she had a dream that I had given birth to a baby that was capable of saying please and thank you fresh out of the womb. While giving thanks and having manners are two traits that I hope and pray I’m hammering into you both on a daily basis,  I have yet to determine how I can produce a baby with this knowledge pre-programmed. This is unfortunate, because I think Daddy would totally want more babies if they came out polite and thankful. Also, the Target newborn turkey hats are to die for.

 

But, I digress.

 

This year, for Thanksgiving, instead of just slapping up our Turkey wreath and throwing together a few turkey hand prints during arts and crafts time, I decided to  really hammer home the giving of thanks aspect of Thanksgiving. A huge roll of butcher paper and some cut out construction leaves later, I had created our first ever Thanksgiving tree.

 

 

 

Each night, during the month of November, we took turns at the dinner table saying what we were thankful for. I loved, loved, loved our Thanksgiving tree. It will be a tradition that we will continue for many years despite the eye rolls that I'm certain will accompany it during the teenage years.

 

Tyson-because we normally end our bedtime prayer with, “Dear God: Thank you for_______  you were waaay more prepared than I gave you credit for. You begged for it to be your turn to “pray” each night, and, completely surprised us when your first prayer included, “thank you Jesus for taking care of all of the people that are with you.”   Like, whoa. Quite a surprise considering I was convinced you would be thankful for your Halloween candy or new Legos.

 

Mila-you clearly are thankful for your “brudder.” I’d be thankful if you remember that when you are 5 and he’s 7. And then again when you are 13 and he’s 15. Also, I’m thankful for cake and dancing too honey. We all are.

 

 

In no particular order, the things we are thankful for in 2013:

 

I am thankful that we have a roof over our heads and food to eat.-Daddy

I am thankful that while I'm sleeping there are never any monsters in my room. -Tyson

I am thankful for Papa!-Mimi

I am thankful that in only 9 more work days I will be reporting to two cute little new bosses.-Mommy

I am thankful for cake!-Mimi

I am thankful for Pam, Blaine and all their kids.-Tyson

I am thankful for my beautiful, smart and funny wife.-Daddy

I am thankful for a husband that reminds me every day how lucky I am to be his wife.-Mommy

I am thankful that Mommy loves me, Daddy loves me, and Mila loves me.-Tyson

I am thankful for all of the yummy meals that Mommy makes for us.-Daddy

I am thankful for Pam-there is someone here on the days I can't be to love my kids and who they love too.-Mommy

I am thankful for Brudder.-Mimi

I am thankful for our beautiful house and my family inside of our house.-Tyson

I am thankful for our fun and nice family, friends and neighbors.-Mommy

I am thankful for our beautiful and loving family.-Daddy

I am thankful for Mommy, Brudder, Beep-beep, and Daddy.-Mimi

I am thankful for a comfy bed and comfy couches.-Tyson

I am thankful we are all healthy.-Daddy

I am thankful for dancing.-Mimi

I am thankful for a healthy and happy 4 year old boy and his special birthday this month.-Mommy

I am thankful for everyone who lives around us.-Tyson

I am thankful for Jesus taking care of everyone that is with Jesus.-Tyson

 

 

Happy Thanksgiving, my littles. I am thankful for both of you little turkeys.

 

Love,

 

Mommy

 

 

Fall Fun

We FINALLY (after three and a half year of living here) have a tree large enough to generate a pile of leaves-albeit small. Very small. Tyson was thrilled. Mila was less than amused at the thought of throwing herself in to a pile of dirty and itchy leaves. Smart girl, but she doesn't understand what she's missing out on.  

 

 

 

Birthday Magic

It was Daddy’s idea to hire a magician for Tyson’s fourth birthday party. Because I am generous, I will give him credit for the idea.

 

For the record, I will also give him credit for the ridiculous amount of pizza we had left over after the party.  After forcing party guests to take home whole pizzas as souvenirs, we had enough leftovers to feed our family for well over a week. If I never see another Domino’s pepperoni pizza for as long as I live, I’d be a happy woman. Also, I’d be skinnier.

 

Getting back to the point, Daddy had the idea, but it was me who actually found and hired the magician, put together what must have been at least one hundred magic wands, hand painted two bunnies in magician’s hats and turned our development club house into a pretty magical scene for Tyson’s 4^th birthday party.

 

We’ll skip over the part where one week before the party we realized that Tyson had no idea what a magician was which resulted in a frenzy of Youtube videos at bedtime to get him excited about Daddy’s idea.   

 

We (I) hired David Farr for the party and it might have been the best decision I’ve ever made. How this man managed to entertain 15 kids age 4 and under for almost an hour is a magic trick I’d pay big money to learn.  I mean, really.

 

It truly was a magical day to celebrate a pretty special four year old boy.  

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

The Blue One

Despite Mila’s ever-expanding vocabulary, lately, if pressed, she could live through the day on ten expressions. In no particular order, these expressions are:

 

1)“The Blue One”

Pronounced: “da boo one”

Translation: (we think) the other one. Typically said if she wants to do something different, eat something different, read something different.

Uses: “The Blue One, Meow. Meow.” Which apparently means I want to go to Pam’s house (because she has a cat. Obviously.)

 

2)      “Oh”

Pronounced: oh.

Translation: oh....seriously are you still talking to me. I’ll pretend like I’m listening.

Uses: At least 100 times per day. A typical use, Me-“Mila! Look it’s snowing out!” Mila-“Oh.” Me-“Mila, a blue elephant is dancing in the street.” Mila-“Oh.”

 

3)“Baby Book”

Pronounced: “bebee book”

Translation: I want to read the book that I pick out. Most of the time it should have a cat on it. Or a baby.
Uses: Yelled repeatedly at me from the minute we announce bed time or nap time.

 

4)    “Thank you, Welcome”

Pronounced: “Tank du, welcome”

Translation: Thank you and welcome, I guess?!?!

Uses: To her advantage. When she wants something and after we give her something. I think she knows this one is cute.

 

5)“Slide!, Slide!”

Pronounced: “Side!, Side!”

Translation: I want to go downstairs and go on the slide repeatedly.

Uses: It seems like every minute. I’m rethinking my brilliant idea of bringing our slide in for the winter. I now have visions of spending my every waking moment in the basement watching her “side!”

 

6)      “Hurry Drive the Truck!”

Pronounced: “Hurry, Dive da Tuck!”

Translation: Please put on the Barney song, “Hurry, Hurry Drive the Firetruck!”

Uses:  Immediately after we set her butt in the carseat until we take her butt out of the carseat. For the record, not the most enjoyable song to listen to on repeat.

 

7)"NOO!"

Pronounced: "Nooooooooooooah!

Translation: No. Uh-uh. No way. Never. Nope.

Uses: Anytime she's asked a question. Ever. Even if we ask her if she wants a million dollars-one day she will regret this.

 

8) "Mama Silly."

Prounounced: "Mama seeeely!"

Uses: Practically any time I look at her and often after I've just gotten dressed for the day. I'm beginning to take offense to this particular expression.

 

9) "Right There"

Pronounced: "Right Dere"

Uses: Her response every time we ask her where anything is. Even if it's not actually, physically "right dere."

 

10) "Brother"

Pronounced: "Brudder"

Uses: All the live long day. “Brudder dink.” (brother, drink) “Brudder tiss.” (brother kiss) “Brudder seeping” (brother sleeping)

 

              

Little

Dear Tyson,

It's 4 in the morning on the day of your birthday party. I should be sleeping, but I can't.

Last night was my turn to put you to bed. We lay cuddling in my bed drinking milk and watching Mickey Mouse when you suddenly turned to me and whispered, "Mommy, did I use to watch this all the time when I was little?"

When you were little?

My sweet four year old boy, you still are so, so, little in my mind. Each morning I hold your little hand as we walk down the stairs. I put your hat on your sweet little head before we head out the door. I watch your little legs run ahead of me on the sidewalk. I look into your little eyes at least one hundred times a day to tell you I love you. I feel your little arms squeezing me with each hug before bed. And, at night, when you are fast asleep, I watch your little chest rise and fall with your peaceful breaths.

I've spent the last weeks worth of nap times hand painting bunnies popping out of hats and frantically making magic wands. I've cursed Pinterest no less than three hundred times, made five trips to Target this week, and spent way more than I care to admit on your party. And today it will all be worth it.

Today we will celebrate you with your friends and family in the most magical way possible.

I can't wait to watch your little face light up.

I love you.

Mommy

Ha-Ha-Halloween.

For an unknown reason, Mimi decided to refer to Halloween this year as, “HA! HA! Halloween!”

 

It should be noted that didn’t say, “HA! HA! Halloween!” she sung it.   No less than three hundred and seven times per day during the month of October. “HA! HA! Halloween!” Sung at the top of her sweet little lungs.   It started off endearing, but quickly materialized into that annoying song that echoes in your head all day long.   

 

For this reason, I packed up the pumpkins and Halloween décor immediately after trick or treating this year. Good riddance, “HA! HA! Halloween!”

 

We had a busy month packed with pumpkin picking, pumpkin painting, pumpkin bread, pumpkin carving and, of course, carrying pumpkins around the neighborhood  asking strangers to fill them with candy. Halloween is strange, but I’m certainly not one to argue with free candy.

 

Tyson and Mila were Woody and Jessie from Toy Story -costumes that were begged and pleaded for by Tyson last year.   Because I’m not good at sewing or anything that requires precision and/or patience, I ended up spending waaaay too much money for these ridiculously cute costumes on Etsy. I think it was money well spent for the four hours of total wear, but Daddy would likely think differently if I ever shared how much I shelled out. To top off the cuteness, our neighbors went as Buzz and Little Bo Peep.  Our neighbor’s mommy is very patient and hand sewed Little Bo Peep’s costume. To say I was impressed is an understatement.

 

Next year, I’m praying Mila doesn’t remember her little song and sticks to just plain old “Halloween.” Daddy’s praying for cheaper costumes.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

  

4.

Dear Tyson,

 

Happy 4^th birthday, buddy.

 

 

I know this is the part where I’m supposed to write about how I can’t believe you are 4 already….but, honestly? 4 isn’t shocking me. Surprisingly, I'm handling your 4th birthday with ease. I haven't stockpiled the Kleenexes or hidden in the bathroom to shed a tear once. I’ve maintained almost all of my dignity. Your Daddy is so proud of me. 

 

 

 For the record, yes, there are still times when you ask me to sing you a lullaby to help you fall asleep that I find myself flashing back to the way it felt to rock you to sleep at 4 weeks old. And, sure, there are still minutes when I am certain that it was just yesterday  you were in my arms instead of pulling at my hand as we walk across the parking lot. And, honestly, every once and awhile, I swear I can smell your sweet newborn baby scent through the little boy sweat that is starting to sneak it’s place into our home. But most of the time? Most of the time I am just caught as up in you and the amazing little boy you are becoming. Turns out I like having a little boy just as much as I liked having a baby boy. I wish I could go back to pregnant me and let her know that.  Luckily, I can return the stock pile of bricks I was secretly hoarding in the basement and planning on  using to keep you small. 

 

 

 

3 was fun. It was crazy and busy and dramatic and hard. Really hard. You are, I'm aware, relatively easy in comparison to other 3 year olds, but still, 3, was hard. I remember reading that 3 would be difficult because kids start to have awareness of self and the ability to determine, as an individual, who they are and will be.  You did all of that and more this year, baby. It was rough, but you’ve shaped into a pretty cool little kid.

 

 

 

You are smart and determined-almost to a fault. You are a perfectionist-even when playing Yahtzee the dice have to be lined just so. You are sweet and caring-always worried about how to make your friends and family happy. You are an amazing older brother to Mimi.  You are a rule-follower and a tattle-tale. You are empathetic-the first to come give me a hug if you happen to even think I might be sad. You are smart and you know it. You have an amazing memory. You want to be just like your Daddy-you have to dress like him, eat like him, and talk like him. You love board games, art projects, and cooking with me. You love to swim, play baseball in the backyard, skate, and watch football with Daddy. You are funny, charming and enjoyable for adults to be around. You like pizza, corndogs and macaroni and cheese. And green beans. You are short tempered (which I'm hoping is just a 3 year old thing) and don't have much patience (which unfortunately, is probably a lifetime trait courtesy of me). You like to wear your boxers or PJs only around the house. You like to cuddle. Your teachers tell me you love to help in the classroom. You like to be the leader, but don't mind taking directions. You are clean and organized. You are generous, conscientious, and kind.

 

 

And, today, you are 4.

 

We're off to celebrate with dinner at Buffalo Wild Wings, skating practice, and presents and cake at home! A magical birthday party to come this Saturday! 

 

 

Happy 4th Birthday, Buddy.

 

Thank you for giving me one of the best presents I've ever held four years ago today. 

 

 

Love,

 

Mommy

 

  

Terrible, Horrible, No-Good, Very Bad Day (Kind of)

Last night was awesome (Or, not so much.)

 

I got home from work at 4:30 and Dan left to go to the Wild game with his Dad and siblings at 4:35. (It should be mentioned that he left me with a screaming Mila and a wheezing/discolored Tyson.)

 

We colored Halloween pictures. (Or, the kids colored Halloween pictures while I tried frantically to find “the! blue! one!” for Mimi while googling, “when is it necessary to bring your child into the ER for an asthma attack.”)

 

I made dinner. (In other words, I poured a little canned soup into a pot and heated it on the stove. This is where you should be impressed-I made soup on the stove! Not the microwave!)

 

The kids ate dinner. (Actually, they both just dumped said soup onto their bodies and the table for me to clean up. Come to think of it, nobody ate much of anything.)

 

We started back-to-back nebulizer treatments. (Which involved Mila yelling, “FROGGIE!” repeatedly at our froggie shaped nebulizer while Tyson yelled repeatedly at Mila to be quiet.)

 

I gave the kids a bath. (Mila pooped in the tub. We discovered it AFTER just as we started draining the water to get out of the tub.)

 

I gave the kids another bath. (Because when you bathe in poopy water, you aren’t really clean.)

 

I let them watch cartoons in my bed while drinking juice. (Of course they spilled the juice. Of course it was red.)

 

I read them each one book. (Despite their begging, pleading, crying and eventually screaming to get two books each.)

 

I put them to bed. ( I snuck back in to each of their bedrooms to watch them sleep peacefully and marvel at how I could create something so amazingly wonderful and difficult at the same time.)

  

Oh Brother.

This is “Brother” giving his baby sister a flower.

 

 

Yes, I said, "Brother." We’re contemplating a formal name change as it’s currently the only name we use for him around the house. It’s not a name we frequently used for him in the past, but somehow Mimi has deemed it the only name she will call him by.  “Brother?” is the first thing she asks me as I pick her up each morning.  It’s also the last name I hear her chanting in bed each night; “Brother! Brother! Brother!”.  

 

She’s become constantly concerned with his whereabouts. On days he’s at preschool, I hear “Brother go?” for two and a half hours straight. The “Brother go?” chant only stops when we arrive to pick him up after school when she promptly starts demanding to “Kiss Brother!” when he comes out of class.
 

 

She’s constantly worried that she and brother get the same things. She gets a fruit snack and yells at me to get, “Brother snack too!”  She gets milk, “Brother tirsty too!”  On multiple occasions, she has demanded the free-cookie lady at Target get “Brother cookie!”  even when he’s not with us.  I’ve tried to mention that this behavior might get us on the free-cookie lady’s do-not-feed list, but she doesn’t seem to listen.

 

As an approximation, I’ve heard “Brother” come out of her mouth no less than 18,000 times in the last week. And as annoying as it might come across, it’s also the cutest thing I’ve ever heard. I’m hoping I can remind her of her undying love for “Brother”  when I start hearing, “Mooommmmm TYSON is bugging me!” a little too frequently all too soon.

Grandparents Have the Word Grand in Their Name for a Reason

Tyson and Mimi,

Last weekend we said goodbye to my Grandpa Ron. Although you only met your Great Grandpa a few times (and he was Great-capital G and all), I feel like it was important for you to know a bit about him.

My Grandpa was born in Duluth, MN. He went to high school and Junior College there. After college, he was a World War II Navy Veteran. He served on submarine-how cool is that! On the submarine he traveled to the Philippines and Japan. This is a picture of the boat he served on-the S.S. Neurus.

At his funeral, they even presented my Grandma with a flag to honor his service in the Navy. After the Navy, he worked for Standard Oil as a territory manager for 38 years. He lived in Detroit Lakes, MN for most of his adult life with my Grandma where he raised his three kids-your Nanny, and my two uncles Jim and Bob. 

As he got older, he  and my Grandma had a fun cabin in Detroit Lakes where they lived in the summer and in the winters they lived in Florida. I was lucky enough to have memories with them at both homes. 

Your Great Grandpa liked to play golf, have coffee with his buddies at McDonalds, and watch sports on TV. He love the Twins and the Vikings. He loved to sing, play poker, and go to the horse races. 

You met your Great Grandpa a handful of times and he adored you. Sadly, at his funeral, I realized that you didn't see him enough. I doubt you will remember being at his house in Detroit Lakes. I don't think you'll remember when he played on the floor with you at Auntie Katie's wedding. You will never get to ask him about that really cool ship up there. Or what Japan was like. You won't get to watch a baseball game with him or ask him his opinion on the Twins this year. You won't ever get to beat him in poker or cheer for the same horse at the races. 

While I can't change what you know about your Great Grandpa Ron, I am determined to have the rest of your remaining Grandparents and Great Grandparents leave you with a legacy; their knowledge and memories. I am sending out a list of questions to your Grandparents that are still with us-nothing fancy-just questions about what their life was like growing up-what they liked to do, what their job was, what their school was like etc. As I get their responses (and I'm crossing every finger and toe that I will), I'm hoping to leave them on this blog for you-a permanent memory of the many people that know and love you-so you can know and love them too. 

Goodbye (Great) Grandpa Ron-we'll miss you. 

Love, 

Mommy 

PS: No member of our family was traumatized during this funeral. Contrary to earlier episodes, no one was forced to lock themselves in a bathroom and allow sucker eating on the floor. Tyson is still struggling to understand the concept of heaven and going to Jesus, but, then again, we all are.



Summer Pics

Summer’s over. This is depressing for a multitude of reasons, but mostly because I’m now realizing how little blogging I did and how much picture uploading I have to catch up on. And then, when I do the above mentioned picture uploading and blogging about how much fun we had this summer, I’m likely to become even more depressed that summer’s over. It’s a vicious cycle.

 

In an effort to minimize the pain, I’m uploading our summer pictures to the blog in one massive post. Like pulling off a Band-Aid, quick and painless.

 
 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

I’m already counting down the days until Summer 2014.

  

Cabin, Cabin, Cabin!

Tyson and Mimi,

 

This year, after several long and arduous years of searching for the perfect spot, your Nanny and Papa bought a cabin. We kind of made it our second home for the month of August. And by kind of I mean we lived there on the weekends. And also on Fridays. And sometimes on Thursdays. And there was that one Monday…..

 

Growing up I was lucky enough to have a Grandma and Grandpa who lived on a lake too. I also had cousins, and Aunts and Uncles, and friends with cabins.  My best and most favorite memories from my childhood are at the lake.  I  went tubing with my cousins and fishing with my Grandpa. I played card games and drank iced tea with my Grandma. I stayed up late and had bonfires with my friends. I camped out in tents, went water skiing, and helped my dad to drive the boat. I took the paddle boat out as far as I could paddle and jumped in the lake. I played outside for hours on end and took my baths in the lake. I collected cool looking rocks and went on walks with my Mom. I went to bed with sand in my toes and a slight sunburn on my shoulders.  

 

 

Selfishly, I prayed for years for your Nanny and Papa to fall in love with a cabin so you could have those same memories. I prayed for you to know what cool water felt like when you dove in on a hot summer day. I prayed that someday your Papa would teach you how to take your own fish off of a hook (because that is certainly out of my realm of responsibilities). I prayed that you would love to tube behind the back of the boat as much as I did. I prayed that you would jump off of a boat in the middle of the lake and yell, “Again! Again!” I prayed that you would have smores and watch late night fireworks.  I prayed and I dreamed and I prayed.

 

 

This summer your Nanny and Papa made my prayers and dreams come true. I know their cabin will continue to make yours come true for many more years to come.

 

Enjoy cabin life, little ones. You are lucky-it will be the best memories of your life.

 

Love,

 

Mommy.