The light was terrible in the room so these pictures are a little grainy, but even with less than perfect photography skills, she is crazy adorable. Miss Cambria Joy is nearly 5 months old and becoming more irresistible by the day. Every week she grows and changes and delights us.
What we should all be doing on a Sunday.....napping.
Frank
Maddie
Magnolia
Himalayans have the most beautiful eyes.
All photos taken by Amazing Husband and his amazing camera. Isn't that last one of Magnolia lovely?
Happy Super Bowl! Hope your team wins.
I am a feminist. Not the burn-my-bra sort of feminist, but rather the sort that would like to see women have the choices necessary to reach whatever potential they wish to achieve. Being the mother of a daughter, I strove to try and lead her away from stereo types of what society tells us women should be and toward ways of thinking that would offer her a broader, choice filled life. Yes, well, lets just say it was society 1, forward thinking mother zip, zero, nada. Not that she did not turn out just fine in the end, because she did. The road we took to get there was just a little less feminist mom and little more cheerleading, Hooters, and a basement full of naked Barbies.
Ah, Barbie, you and I never could quite see eye to eye. Even as a child I chose other dolls over your pose-able, bend-able, comb-able self and as a mother I REALLY didn't want you a part of my daughter's life. They could dress you up in every fashion and uniform out there; give you glasses and a fake job at NASA, but beneath it all you were still the 12 inch waisted, pointed boobed, bimbo with great hair and an unhealthy tan. (Take that Malibu Barbie!) You even kicked Ken to the curb, and after all the years he was loyal to your perky arse. I told him he should have joined the military. But, despite our negative history, there you were, all packaged in pink at my daughter's third birthday party and her eyes shone like diamonds as she attempted to pry you from your over packaged and insanely secure box. On that day I knew I was fighting a losing battle.
As the years past the Barbie population grew....and grew....and grew. There were Barbie houses and cars and teensy little 4 inch heels (that's Barbie metric) to match every fashionable Barbie outfit. The basement play room became Barbie central and I tried to look the other way until one day I glanced over to discover that the floor was littered with Barbies AND they were all naked. It looked like the Barbie Apocalypse down there. Some were even bald (egad!). When asked, my daughter sort of shook her head and said she got tired of getting them all dressed. Poor Barbie, exposed and broken by the burden of fashion. Let there be light. (cue heavenly choir)
At that point we had a basement of naked Barbies, a defined lack of interest in clothing them, and a brother that had had just about enough of bringing his friends to play and getting razzed about the mass nakedness in the basement. Something must be done.....and you know....for the life of me I can't remember what exactly was done. Maybe they ended up at the curb in a garbage bag (oh sweet revenge) or handed out to other friends, but in the end the basement play room become a naked Barbie free zone. That is not to say no more Barbies entered the family, but they met with a better, more fashionable life than their predecessors.
So, the other night I turn on BBC America to watch the hilarious Graham Norton and what do I spy on the desk behind him?????? NAKED BARBIES.
Not a grand photo, but the best I could find. Look over his right shoulder and there they are. This pic is just a small representation of the display. I bet the table is 4 feet long and covered with naked Barbies. Hysterical. Absolutely brilliant.
Take that Barbie, you unrealistic b*t#h. No girl can live up to the body proportions, not to mention jet setting lifestyle you exemplify, but you won't see us proper women standing, en masse in our birthday suits on a British talk show with our hair all a shambles. Eat a sandwich, for heavens sake, and get real.
Along with movies and work and still feeling crummy (along with the majority of the Midwest) there has been knitting. Currently on the needles:
Basic feather and fan comfort shawl using some stash Silk Garden. Colors are a bit more intense than in the pic. Love the pattern and how fast it grows, but not sure I'm completely in love with the colors. Don't hate them enough to quit. Great tv and movie knitting as the rows are getting long and only one in four require any sort of thinking. Hope blocking defines the pattern a bit more.
Boheme for baby CJ as a Valentine's Day gift using Briar Rose Grandma's Blessing. Last year's V-day included the very first knitted gift to a newly preggers mommy to put away for baby to come. Cambria has already out grown them and a tradition of knitted offerings has been established. Boheme is a sweet little baby vest that I'm hoping will fit now. Sizing begins at 6mo so I went with smaller needles and a prayer of success to get something closer to a 3 mo size. Nice pattern, especially after I figured out that YF is the same as YO. Only had to rip back 3 rows. I think I'm cruising along well now.
I'm really trying hard to knit mostly from stash and it's easier than I expected. I still lust after the new and wonderful and plan to do some damage at Sheep in the City come February at the Briar Rose booth, but overall there is no reason I could not knit for years to come using only what is stored in the yarn closet.
Contemplating making a purchase of a set of interchangeable needles and am leaning toward the Addis. Anyone have an review of them, or any other set, they would be willing to share?
Today marks ten years of being married to my dream man. Ten years of the contented blending of two lives into one unit. In all honesty, I wasn't sure it could be what it is today. I wasn't sure I had the skills to be the other half of a complete whole. It's good to be surprised sometimes.
If someone where to ask me what makes the kind of happiness I need, I would have to say that it is all about the little things. There have certainly been grand and glorious events in the past ten years, but it the small, sweet things that are the glue. For example:
*We still hold hands, even if it is just from the car to the grocery store and he squeezes my hand a bit before we let go.
*He never, ever gives me a card for any occasion without writing something beautiful inside. Always something from his heart and always exactly perfect.
*If he gets up in the morning before I do he carefully slips out of bed and then arranges the covers up against my back, just the way I like it.
*He tries really hard not to snore. :-)
*We always say "I love you" before ending a phone conversation, going to sleep at night, or leaving for work or errands.
*He thinks I'm beautiful. I think he is perfect.
*He always, always, always makes me feel welcome and safe. I never enter his presence wondering what I will find. Even if he is frustrated by work or life in general, to me he is always the same open, loving person. Now that I think of it, that isn't a little thing. That is HUGE.
After ten years I love him more than the day we married and it is an evolving, generous love. Laying in bed last night we talked about how it feels like we have known each other forever and that knowing is deep and honest. There are no material gifts on this planet that could ever be as precious to me as my life with my Amazing Husband.
Wise friends gave me warning that this particular holiday season, the first spent without my mother, would be difficult. I listened, because that is what good friends do, so it came as no shock to find that all the things that I find joy in at this time of year are bittersweet. No one loved Christmas or snow like my mother and she shared that appreciation with me every Winter of my life. No snowfall happened without a phone call, and in her later years as her eyesight failed she would call just to check and see if maybe it might be snowing. She couldn't see the snow, but that didn't stop her from wishing it would.
As I have said frequently here, I have found the grieving process to be a strange little journey. Most of the legal loose ends are finally nearing completion and I'm beginning to let go of the anger and frustration many of her choices and how they impacted my life and her death. And now I am beginning to miss her. I wondered if I ever would. The best gift that Hospice has given me is the truth that grief has no time table. We all feel what we feel, when we feel it and there is no shame in that.
Despite the moments of reflection and sadness, it is still the holiday season and I continue to celebrate in my quiet way. A few Christmas discoveries:
First up is Winter Magic
- Hayley Westenra. I first discovered Hayley in a random search for
waltz music and found her Dark Waltz. (Still a huge favorite.) She
was, perhaps still is, one of the Celtic Woman. Her voice is clear and
well suited to holiday music. Song of note: The Little Road to
Bethlehem. It makes me forgive her for a not so wonderful arrangement
of River.
The Annie Moses Band was
a completely new find for me and what a find. This family is so
talented....I can't even find the words. I chose This Glorious
Christmas, but there are a few other Christmas albums that I'm sure are
equally wonderful. I expected some Celtic flavor, and there is a bit of
that, but this album has an almost Aaron Copeland feel to it. Song of
note: When the Christmas Baby Cries.
This weekend Amazing Husband took me to see A Christmas Carol
at the IMAX 3D. It wasn't high up on the movie viewing list, but we
both needed a little blast of Christmas spirit and decided to make the
annual pilgrimage to Madison for mutt gifts. Why not take in the IMAX
while we were there? Visually it was beyond belief. Every single
surface was perfectly crafted. Even the fires in the fireplaces moved
and cracked. I was quite impressed. A lot of the dialog was taken
directly from the original text, which I thought took it up a notch
from the usual Disney fair. I wouldn't say that this was a movie
appropriate for very young children, just as the book would not be.
There were places that were just plain scary. The depiction of when
Scrooge first meets Marley's ghost was was creepily suspenseful. I
probably wouldn't see it again, but I did enjoy it. It was the first
time I've been to a 3D film where the entire film, including the ending
credits, was in 3D.
The local weather people say that snow is coming, perhaps feet of it. I hope they are correct. Stay warm and safe!
Another major holiday has come, been consumed, familied, footballed, perhaps capitalized with the masses, and gone. I have a new friend recently transplanted from Canada and she is more than a little surprised at what a big deal Thanksgiving is here in the lower States. And, I guess it is.
I've never had an issue with gratitude. I have other faults (countless many). I can occasionally be insensitive, I make things harder than they need to be, and, if we're being honest, I can be a teensy bit b*tchy. (No, really, I can be.) Grateful, though, I am in spades and always have been. The concept of one day where we take some time to consider our own personal blessings has been a mystery to me. Maybe a month of thankful commemoration, or 6 months, or every darn day of our lives? My family rarely goes around the table being verbally grateful, which I understand is tradition at many tables. Now that I think of it, it's probably to avoid the extended play version when it comes around to me, cuz kids, I am grateful for every, every thing. Every blade of grass or leaf on a tree, every rain drop, or unexpected smile, or nice firm handshake, or hug from a loved one (or even a not so loved one). When I wake up in the morning and put my feet on the ugly (seriously UGLY) brown carpet on our bedroom floor that is fraying at the door threshold I am grateful because it is so much better than the cold earth to step on. I know, it's a little ridiculous at times, but I have rarely been in a situation where there hasn't been something to be grateful for. Perhaps my ability to be in an attitude of gratefulness is my own personal port in the storm of life. And, perhaps some desperate life storms are required to gain clear site of the blessings of life. I don't know. Maybe I'm just a little crazy. :-)
This year we have a few extra special things to offer thanks for. Aren't those just the loveliest people ever? (I apologize for the fact that our dragonfly looks like it's about to land on Josh's head. My photography skills can use some work.) Every time I look at them I choke up with thanks. Each and every one of them is happy light in my life. The two on the right, Karl and Santa, will be getting married in 2010 which tickles me no end cuz we love Santa to pieces. (For the purposes of clarification, and because I know what it's like to have a holiday name during the Holiday season, to correctly pronounce Santa's name think Santa Maria, not Santa Claus.) Though our numbers decreased with the passing of my mother in April, the two on the left kindly provided us with this little bug.....
....Miss Cambria Joy....seen here pondering the complexity of life. Add to this the constant that is my Amazing Husband and a person could just burst with the bounty of it all. It's been a tough year for me, but all of the sad just makes the happy more welcome.
So, we close the door on one holiday and open the door to the next.
Miss Magnolia wants you to know that there are 25 days, 14 hours, and 27 minutes until Christmas. Am I ready? Not even close. As previously mentioned, I will make Christmas prep much harder than it needs to be, but I will take time to appreciate the season for the myriad of glories it is.
Thanks to each of you, who take a few minutes to read my ramblings. Hugs all around.
Look who came to visit me today! Little Miss CJ.
It's really hard to hold a camera and a baby at the same time. :-)
I love Monday. Love, love, love Monday. Especially rainy Mondays like today. You all know that I adore my husband and all of his amazingness, but one day with the house all to myself is a very good thing. He works from home 3 days a week and I work away from home 3 days a week and it all works out just perfectly. Ah, but Monday is all mine and I spend all day soaking up the alone. It makes me a nicer person.
On this particular Monday I am in need of your assistance; AH and I need grandparent names. Lucky little baby Cambria has three sets of fantastic, loving grandparents and I would like designated names that set this particular set apart. I suggested "Her Supreme Highness Hippie Green Grandma", but that might be a little bit too much to remember. :-) So, what I would love is for you to comment here and tell me what names you called your grandparents, or what your grandchildren call you. Maybe it's a family or cultural name....or maybe just something cute the child made up....I want to hear them all. I was in favor of just letting Cambria decide, but apparently it's a better idea to decide first and then have Mom and Dad refer to us that way. Makes sense.
Thanks for your input, and have a fantastic, peaceful Monday.
