Santa Baby Spencer

Today, all the family took Spencer to see "The Real Santa," and she didn't cry! We go every Christmas Eve, it's our little tradition, and this was the first time that she hasn't had a complete meltdown upon being sat on his lap. Santa asked her what she wanted for Christmas and she replied "A bicycle. And, um, some play-doh." She cracks me up sometimes!

 

We went back to the PGP's house to open presents and have Christmas Eve dinner.  After Spencer had opened the plethora of gifts from the the PGPs and PGGPs, we got ready to eat.  I asked her if she would say the blessing and when she had finished her usual prayer, she added on "and God, thank you for all my presents!"  Oh, I about died!  It was the cutest and sweetest thing!

Spencie is finally asleep and looking super cute in her new Santa pajamas.  And now, I think it's time to put on Home Alone and get to work on being Santa Claus.  I'm thinking this is going to take a long time, especially with all these toys to assemble and training wheels to attach!  Merry Christmas everyone- I hope you and your family have a wonderful, magical, and memorable day!

Christmas on Wendhurst

We went to see some Christmas lights last night with Spencer's Mimi and Great-Gram (The PGP and the PGGP).  Spencer and I go out every night and look at different houses with lights on the Tacky Tour, but we'd been saving a few for when the PGPs came up for a visit.  I had just seen a special on TLC about a certain house in Richmond and I HAD to go and see it- so off we went.  And let me tell you... it did NOT disappoint. My pictures don't do it justice because I couldn't get everything in one panoramic shot, so it's all a little disjointed.  But every single one of the pictures that follows comes from the same house. Yep, just one house and over 120,000 lights.  They even have there own website, check it out to see it in it's full glory.

I know houses on the Tacky Tour are supposed to be "tacky," but I think this one is beautiful!

My Daughter, the Photographer

These photos, which she took this afternoon, are courtesy of Spencer and a point and shoot camera.  It started off promising- she told me to say cheese and then waited until I was looking at her before she took the pictures.  But then she got impatient with me, the photography itch took hold, and she just started snapping away to her heart's content.  It tells a nice little story, haha!

It started off pretty well...

Then she figured out the zoom... and it's all downhill from here...

My forehead looks gigantic here, but it gets worse...

See what I mean?  Now I have the world's tiniest chin. I think this was a combination of zoom and standing right in front of me.  Not sure why I'm red, though!

And who knows what happened here...

But this one takes the cake.  That red splotch in the top left hand corner... that's Spencer's finger.

 Maybe with a little practice she'll be the next Diane Arbus or Annie Leibovitz! 

PS.  When you read the title, it's supposed to be like the line from The 'Burbs, "My brother, the doctor!"  Please tell me you've seen The 'Burbs, because if you haven't, you are missing out. Seriously!)

Everything Changes, but the Pigtails Stay the Same

Before I start writing about Christmas, I have to get this post out onto the Internets. And then, the Season of Jolly may commence.

Every year on my birthday, my aunt, Spencer and I go to the pumpkin patch. It all started three years ago when my brother had a volleyball game on my birthday, my parents were going to his game, and I was a bit bummed out. So my aunt took off work and we decided to go to the pumpkin patch. Spencer's hair had just gotten long enough for pig tails and I was a little obsessed with them- so in they went.

The next year, my brother had a volleyball game again and so my aunt and I decided we'd make a tradition of it and go back to the pumpkin patch. I thought it would be cute to put her in pig tails again so the tradition would continue, even though she hadn't worn them in awhile. Since we had the tradition going, we went again this year on my (ugh!) 29th birthday. Well, Spencer hasn't worn pig tails since the last time we went, but I didn't care, a tradition was a tradition.

So now I have three years of Spencer wearing pig tails at the pumpkin patch on October 22 and I'm so glad that I do, because they are the only constant thing about her. I knew that she looked different than the first year we went, but I couldn't get over how much she'd grown up in since last year.

2008

2009

2010

I'm ready for her to stop growing up now and just stay the same for awhile.  Me too, for that matter...

Seriously?

The other day Spencer and I were in the car driving to school when I realized that I forgot her tuition check at home.  I told her what I had done and that we needed to turn around and go get it.  She looked at me and said, "Seriously?"

I about died right there. 

And then she said "Ugh, alright."

It's like she's 3 going on 13.

The Swing of Things

I'm not sure why blogging is so difficult for me these days, but I can't stand that I haven't written anything for three weeks!  Three weeks!  They've been a busy three weeks, that's for sure: I turned 29, my dad had his birthday, Halloween, Election Day, and various other life events.  Me turning 29 is a whole post alone, so I will start with Halloween.

Spencer wanted to be a princess.  I did not want Spencer to be a princess.  I tried to show her other costumes, but she was insistent that she had to be a PRINCESS.  In my attempts to not stifle her and impose my will on her for frivolous things, I gave up my quest for her to be something else. 

On Sunday night we went over to Sara's house and met up with another family that we are friends with that has a daughter Spencer's age.  There were a few hiccups and minor meltdowns along the way, but they had a blast.  This was the first year that we've gone to stranger's houses.  I've always just driven her around to people that we knew.  So this was a new experience for the both of us.  Spencer was not in the most cooperative picture mood and I didn't get that many good pictures of her, which was a bummer.  But I got a few.

 

 

This last picture was at the end of the night and Spencer's friend wasn't ready for the festivities to be over, so Spencer tried to comfort her!  It was a seriously super cute moment.  You can't tell in these pictures, but Spencer's dress actually had little lights throughout it. She thought it was pretty fantastic.

I am going to do my best to get back into the swing of things around here!  I promise.

Do You Know What's in Your Backyard?

 

Image Source

Yesterday, Spencer found the mother of all caterpillars. I have never seen one that gigantic before- it was like The Very Hungry Caterpillar on steroids multiplied by 100.  We were outside and she was playing in the backyard when she squealed with delight that she'd found a caterpillar.  Before I could process that information, she picked it up and brought it over to me.  I was still baffled that she saw a caterpillar in the grass, recognized it for what it was, and quite clearly told me what she had found.  Her entire knowledge of them is solely from the aforementioned book, which doesn't exactly look like real live ones.

And then I see that she's holding this enormous looking thing that just couldn't be an actual caterpillar.  My inner insectaphobia, aka, entomophobia, was screaming for me to tell her to put it down, not to touch it, and never it up again. This is seriously what it looked like, only bigger!

Image Source

But she is such a little sponge and I don't want her to be afraid of of bugs, insects, spiders, and other things that creep.  I remembered reading this post on Dooce and I didn't want Spencer to soak in any of my irrational fears, etc.  So I kept my mouth shut.

Well, that lasted about 2.2 seconds because she tried to hand it to me and the voice in my head escaped through my mouth and said DO NOT PUT THAT ON ME!  I then calmly told her we needed to put it back in the grass so that we didn't hurt it.  (Good one, right?!)  And I tried to explain that you have to be very gentle with caterpillars because they are fragile and even if you don't mean to hurt them, it can still happen.  Shockingly, she put it back in the grass!  I bent down and got a closer look it.  I really thought that it might have been a toy shaped like a caterpillar, because it was that big.  It wasn't until I watched it start to move it's antennae and scoot away that I was finally convinced of it's authenticity. 

Spencer has always been a little mimic of me, but recently it's taken on a new life of it's own.  I have to watch every teeny tiny thing that I do and say because chances are that she will do and say the same thing.  And I want her to be her own person.  My parents never even told me who they were voting for until I was in high school because they wanted me to form my own opinions and not be swayed theirs.  I found that infuriating, but now I'm starting to get it.  It's hard to be a good influence without stifling them. Here is my question: where do you draw the line between being a positive role model and being domineering?

The Bullaise Ballet

Spencer is now taking ballet, which she calls bullaise, and tap dancing lessons and she LOVES it. I have to hide her tap shoes when we get home because she wants to tap dance around the house all the time. The class is only once a week, but I wish they had it more often, because Spencer wants to go there every single day. Last night she obliged me for a few minutes and let me take a few pictures of her in her leotard.

And then she got annoyed with me.

  Story. Of. My. Life.

  I guess that's what life with a strong willed three year old is like, ha!

Two Weeks Notice

"If a tree falls in a forest and there's no one there to hear it, does it make a sound?"  I think that best describes how I feel about blogging and my real life; if I blog something, it becomes reality, but if I don't, then I can delude myself into a lovely state of denial.  So here it is: my Spencer started preschool.

I've tried to start this post a hundred times and then I'd get all weepy and quickly abandon it.  Writing it all down meant that I was officially the mother of a three year old in preschool and I wasn't quite prepared for such a thing.  But now that we are two weeks into it, I'm now ready to say, "Hi, my name is Katie and I'm the mother of a three year in preschool."

I really wasn't expecting to feel so emotional about this, but as the first day of school approached, I felt increasingly more sad.  I mean, two days a week for three hours a day isn't exactly a lengthy separation, so why was I freaking out? There were never any doubt in my mind that Spencer would go to preschool this year- in fact, I'd started researching programs well over a year ago. I couldn't be happier with the school she's going to; I love their approach to learning, the staff, that it's strictly a preschool and not part of daycare system, and the actual building itself.  But I still felt/feel kinda heartsick.

I never really understood homeschooling your children.  Getting out and going to school provides them  a well balanced and rounded education and it gives moms a few hours to themselves to get some things done, maybe take a well deserved nap.  It probably didn't hurt that I loved going to school and would try and fake not having a temperature if I was sick so I wouldn't miss a day. (Crazy kid!)  So, naturally, I thought I would love Spencer going to school just as much as I loved going; wrong. I firmly believe one of the best gifts a parent can give to their child is a love of learning and a great education.  But in the back of mind, I'm starting to understand why some families decide to literally take on that challenge themselves.  For me, I'm jealous; I'm jealous, green with envy, of Spencer's teacher.  I want to watch her learn things and I want to see that look of excitement she gets on her face when she's learned something new.I feel like I'm missing out on something.

Even so, I'm very aware my own limitations and I know going to this preschool is what's best for Spencer.  And she loves it!  Every morning when she wakes up, she asks me "is this my school day?" And when I say yes, she always tells me "that's my favorite day!"  To which I jokingly respond, "what am I, chopped liver?" And with her most serious voice and you're-crazy-mom look, she tells me "No silly goose, you're Mommy."  It's our little morning routine.

Spencer has adjusted marvelously.  Actually, there was no adjustment for her, I walked her in on the first day and she went right into her room, sat down, and waved goodbye; no tears, no nothing.  It was as if she'd been doing this her whole life. I, on the other hand, had to fight back my tears until I made it to the car.  And then I went Sara's house so she could comfort me, haha! 

Without further ado, here are some of the pictures I took of Spencer on the first day of school.