the cheesiest.

Nate has many wonderful traits. An ability to pose naturally for photos is not one of them. He tends to close his eyes or do weird things with his face. I had hoped that these things skipped a generation. Apparently not.

It begins:
I have about 20 shots of my squinty-face, fake-smiley girl in this cute vintage dress. Last week at her well-baby visit, she fake smiled into that little flashlight when her pediatrician checked her eyes. So proud, folks. So proud.

there she goes.

Claire and I went to do birthday photos yesterday and when I opened up the frame to slide the newest picture in, I found this photo taken when she was six weeks old. Months ago, she slept through almost the entire session. Yesterday, she was a wild woman, crawling around, grabbing for the camera.
I chose this photo from the many that were taken yesterday, because she isn't pulling up her shirt to expose her round belly or trying to make her escape. While still darn beautiful, the girl now has better things to do than sit around and pose for strangers. I can't say that I blame her.

Later, we had a coffee date to celebrate her birthday. Warm goat's milk for the girl, hazelnut latte for her mama. She sat on my lap and waved at passers by, clapping proudly when they returned her smiles.

happy, happy birthday baby.

Dear Claire,
I had planned to get up early this morning and drink tea while I wrote about your first year. You had other plans. You woke me up to nurse even earlier than my envisioned morning tea time. This shouldn't have surprised me. You have been changing my plans since the day we met.

I know that our nursing days are numbered, and as I held you this morning, I studied you. You are becoming someone else. It is amazing.


Gone is the fragile baby that they handed me that morning a year ago. Gone is the babygirl that I was afraid to diaper. It seems that I blinked, and she is gone. In her place is this funny little person who demands eye contact and waves from strangers, who launches herself out of my arms to play with the big kids, and who picks up the phone, understanding that it goes on her ear (and then, excited by her parents' applause, puts the remote to her ear as well-in our house this constitutes comic genius).

You amaze me with the things you can do. The crawling, the attempts at language. There are moments when we crack each other up and I can't believe that someone so small can understand so much.

This year, you have learned some things. And I have learned some things. I thought that you had to have everything lined up in order to be a good parent. I thought that the room mattered and the gear mattered and the planning mattered. The books and websites don't prepare you for the exhaustion or the joy that comes with this job. Nothing I read adequately described the fun of watching you dance to your favorite song or tricking you into eating broccoli.

Everyone loves you, Pooper. Especially me.
Happy Birthday, Sweetgirl.
Love,
Mama

today in the tulips.

loose ends.

I have been looking back at some recent posts and decided an update was in order. Here goes:

* After three days on the market OUR LITTLE HOUSE SOLD. Without tears, I signed a bunch of papers accepting an offer that was well above what we were asking for it. We are overwhelmed with thankfulness.

* My friend had her baby. A beautiful, healthy girl. In her honor, I made "monster cookies" this afternoon and remembered afternoons spent with this new baby's mama when I should have been in class.

* I seriously can't share my meatloaf recipe, because I wasn't joking about using meatloaf as a way to clean out the fridge, and the recipe changes every time the 'loaf is made. I will tell you that I use ground turkey (because it makes me feel healthy) and that the secret is the use of sage. Sage it up, you won't be sorry.

*Lastly, the perfect addition to naked dinner- kitchensink bathtime.

quote for a sunday.

"It's such a perfect day.
I'm glad I spent it with you."
-Lou Reed

progression.

I'm not sure why it took me

a year to figure out the joys of

naked dinner.

Brilliant parenting around here 24 hours a day, 7 days a week.

still not mentioning any names.

A good friend came over around naptime a few weeks ago. Here's a snipet of our conversation.

Her: Someone should invent a long range baby monitor.
Me: A what?
Her: You know, a long range baby monitor so you can go for a walk and still hear your baby.
Me: So you can hear the baby, but can't respond?
Her: Oh. You're going to blog about this aren't you, Kar?

giddy up, tlo.

For several weeks I have wanted to write a post for an old friend who is very pregnant. The idea was to give her some tips on baby gear and general mama advice. After almost a full year of motherhood, the best I can do is this: just love the crap out of that baby. It is going to go so fast.
One minute you have this:

And the next, you have this:

TLO, as I mentioned to your mama the other day, I don't remember anything from my first year of life. While she will worry and fret about your every tear, you will be just fine.

Welcome little one, we can't wait to see your tiny face.

What about you, friends, any words of wisdom for the new mommy?

easter morning.

Last Easter we ate Mexican food and jumped a camper bus. We were a couple expecting a baby. Now she is here. Today is her last first holiday in a year of firsts.

I have a question for you in the hypothetical. Is there any reason you would not blog about your child's life? Are there topics that are off limits? I have been silent this week as I ponder these questions. When I started this blog it was at the beginning of pregnancy that took me by surprise. It was a way to say the things that were hard to say to the people I love. Mostly, it was a way to say, "um, I'm pregnant." I had no idea that I would continue to write about Claire after she was on the outside. I had no idea anyone would read.

I didn't anticipate how much I would grow to appreciate the community of mothers and nonmothers who read my little goofy stories and love letters to my child, during this hard, and most exhausting year.

So, back to the question. Do you think about the impact of your blog on your child? Do you think about private information being shared in such a public way? Are there people that you wouldn't want to share your blog with? What would you do if they found it? Would you stop writing?

3 years.

Three years ago today, Nate and I woke up in different places for the last time. We bought a lawn mower at a yard sale ("it's a Torro, babe. That's a great mower!"), we ate Burger King bagel sandwiches* (delish!), and later that day we got married in a little church in an oak grove. To celebrate, I give you some vintage us. Happy Anniversary, Mate. I'm so glad it's you.

*Edited to add, from Nate: "I don't think they were bagel sandwiches, Kar. Wait, I'm wearing that shirt right now."

in the interest of public service.

Don't see this movie.

You're welcome.