Imprints
Nesting with Mason Grace in her big girl bed. Going to sleep giggling, telling stories and talking about the day’s events, being thrashed by flinging limbs and crazy blond hair through the night, waking up to two enormous blue eyes staring at me and hearing, “Aunt Lori today’s gonna be a GREAT day because you’re here!” And one night, reaching down to pick up a partially awake, partially asleep Macy who had fallen out of bed, who responded sleepily to the question if she was alright, “yes but I think I’d be better if we could cuddle, Aunt Lori.” That’s when my biological clock officially exploded.
Listening to Ruby sing and ROCK OUT to Blues Traveler’s “Dog Train”.
Life revolving around the potty, which is most important when you have a 3 ½ year old who announces at the top of her lungs, no matter where she is or who might be around, “I’VE GOT A FEELING I HAVE TO GO POOP”, and you have a 2 year old beginning potty training, at the same time. What makes the potty even more extra special? The small sized, cushioned Hello Kitty toilet seat. Remembering forever my not using the bathroom for 4 days for fear of that soft Hello Kitty toilet seat.
Taking a walk outside with Macy and finding a really big stick that looked kind of like King Neptune’s trident. When asking Macy what games we should play with the stick – maybe pretending it was magic like Nanny McPhee’s walking cane, or our paddle to row our boat across the ocean to Treasure Island – hearing her thoughtfully reply, “No Aunt Lori, I think we should use this stick to keep the idiots away.” Amen, sister. Amen.
Sitting downstairs and hearing Ruby upstairs singing Ariel’s “ah ah ah” theme, from Little Mermaid. Going up to get a better listen, peaking into her room and seeing her singing Ariel’s theme into the karaoke microphone. Witnessing proof that the Holliday “karaoke ham” gene had over powered and beaten down the Welter “tasteful” gene.
Being at the zoo hearing Macy say, “Look Aunt Lori, there’s an AFRICAN CRESTED CRANE. Oh…it has such BEAUTIFUL PLUMEAGE”. Picking my chin up from the ground I asked her when she turned 17, to which she corrected me, “Aunt Lori, I don’t turn 17 til April.” Oh sorry, my bad.
Waiting for Ruby to bring me every single one of her babies – babies she calls “sweeties” – and noticing that at least half of them are black. Finding out that when given a choice, Ruby often picks the black baby dolls to make her own. This is absolutely no problem in her world, and for that I am bursting with pride. When needing to distinguish her babies for one reason or another she sometimes calls them her “purple sweeties”, which nearly kills me. Death by cuteness.
Feeling the massive adrenaline rush when Mason looked up at me and asked if I wanted to play school. ABSOFREAKINGLUTLY!
Mugging the security camera in Target for about 15 minutes. Macy, Ruby and me waving, dancing, jumping and making faces, cracking ourselves up because “we were on TV!”
Enjoying heavenly dialogue. Imagine the sound of a chorus of angels. Their sweet, clear, high pitched tone…a tinkling little melody infusing every single word…the effervescent cadence popping with the most joyful sound. Then take the tiniest angel from the chorus and listen to her voice. It’s the voice that flip flops hearts, soothes souls and makes sour pusses smile. That’s Ruby Kate’s voice. Now imagine that tender little fairy voice when she says, after climbing up on her father’s lap to let him know it was time for a diaper change, “Daddy, me got monkey butt.” Needless to say, Daddy’s wife, Mommy, was not at all amused by her little angel’s quip that she felt quite sure was one that Daddy taught her. But the rest of us in her presence thought it was mighty funny, indeed. Which, as you know, was all the encouragement little angel Ruby Cake needed to continue saying “monkey butt” for the next twenty minutes.
Listening to Ruby sing and ROCK OUT to Blues Traveler’s “Dog Train”.
Life revolving around the potty, which is most important when you have a 3 ½ year old who announces at the top of her lungs, no matter where she is or who might be around, “I’VE GOT A FEELING I HAVE TO GO POOP”, and you have a 2 year old beginning potty training, at the same time. What makes the potty even more extra special? The small sized, cushioned Hello Kitty toilet seat. Remembering forever my not using the bathroom for 4 days for fear of that soft Hello Kitty toilet seat.
Taking a walk outside with Macy and finding a really big stick that looked kind of like King Neptune’s trident. When asking Macy what games we should play with the stick – maybe pretending it was magic like Nanny McPhee’s walking cane, or our paddle to row our boat across the ocean to Treasure Island – hearing her thoughtfully reply, “No Aunt Lori, I think we should use this stick to keep the idiots away.” Amen, sister. Amen.
Sitting downstairs and hearing Ruby upstairs singing Ariel’s “ah ah ah” theme, from Little Mermaid. Going up to get a better listen, peaking into her room and seeing her singing Ariel’s theme into the karaoke microphone. Witnessing proof that the Holliday “karaoke ham” gene had over powered and beaten down the Welter “tasteful” gene.
Being at the zoo hearing Macy say, “Look Aunt Lori, there’s an AFRICAN CRESTED CRANE. Oh…it has such BEAUTIFUL PLUMEAGE”. Picking my chin up from the ground I asked her when she turned 17, to which she corrected me, “Aunt Lori, I don’t turn 17 til April.” Oh sorry, my bad.
Waiting for Ruby to bring me every single one of her babies – babies she calls “sweeties” – and noticing that at least half of them are black. Finding out that when given a choice, Ruby often picks the black baby dolls to make her own. This is absolutely no problem in her world, and for that I am bursting with pride. When needing to distinguish her babies for one reason or another she sometimes calls them her “purple sweeties”, which nearly kills me. Death by cuteness.
Feeling the massive adrenaline rush when Mason looked up at me and asked if I wanted to play school. ABSOFREAKINGLUTLY!
Mugging the security camera in Target for about 15 minutes. Macy, Ruby and me waving, dancing, jumping and making faces, cracking ourselves up because “we were on TV!”
Enjoying heavenly dialogue. Imagine the sound of a chorus of angels. Their sweet, clear, high pitched tone…a tinkling little melody infusing every single word…the effervescent cadence popping with the most joyful sound. Then take the tiniest angel from the chorus and listen to her voice. It’s the voice that flip flops hearts, soothes souls and makes sour pusses smile. That’s Ruby Kate’s voice. Now imagine that tender little fairy voice when she says, after climbing up on her father’s lap to let him know it was time for a diaper change, “Daddy, me got monkey butt.” Needless to say, Daddy’s wife, Mommy, was not at all amused by her little angel’s quip that she felt quite sure was one that Daddy taught her. But the rest of us in her presence thought it was mighty funny, indeed. Which, as you know, was all the encouragement little angel Ruby Cake needed to continue saying “monkey butt” for the next twenty minutes.
posted by Lori Holliday Culver @ 2/12/2007
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