Life Lesson #6: Find a Friend You Can Grow Old With

Dear Laney,

It's a good idea to find a friend who you would choose if God allowed you to pick a sibling. That way, the two of you will be able to share all the important stages in life together.

For example, this friend could take you out for your 21st birthday in college and make sure you get home okay. This is the kind of friend who will help you find a job when you find yourself in - say - Los Angeles, and you have no idea how you're going to pay your rent. Also, look for someone who could be in your wedding party, and then when you arrive at the hotel after the wedding in your pretty white dress and realize that you left your purse in the OTHER rental car and have no way to check into the hotel and you're dying of embarrassment in the lobby of the Holiday Inn Express, will gracefully pull out a credit card and handle it. A few years after that, this friend could come visit you and your new baby, then take you out for a cocktail and a day of shopping because you really need to get out of the house, and he'll agree with you that the music in the stores at the mall is WAY too loud, and what is with young people today?

Yeah, try and find someone like that. 'Cause I already found one and you can't have him.

Love,

Mom

Laney's Luau: The Re-Cap

Dear Laney,

Wow - we're still recovering from yesterday.

You had a great first birthday; here are some highlights:

* We had lots of guests - Mollie and her mom Virginia, Cedar and her mom Brooke, your Grandma Sue, your uncle Nate, Brian, and Ben the Aloha Dog.

* Your dad grilled teriyaki chicken, and we had barbecued pineapple pork, cole slaw, baked beans, roasted sweet potatoes and rolls.

* Your dad and Brian and I stayed up the night before the party and made your cupcakes. They were kahlua fudge with cream cheese frosting. We colored the frosting sea blue and dipped them in graham cracker "sand" and topped them with mini palm trees and umbrellas. IN theory, they were supposed to look like tiny islands. In theory.

* Karen and Samantha sent you a big box of leis and other decorations that really came in handy at the party.

* Grandma Sue made you a lei with real flowers that actually survived for over an hour.

* Brian came up with the brilliant idea that what the party really needed was a fire pit. So he told your dad, "Thor, we had a creative meeting and decided we need a fire pit." Your dad said "OK. Where do you want it?" Thirty minutes later, we had a fire pit. This is why I love your dad. He doesn't question the crazy ideas, and the fire pit turned out to be great fun.

* Your dad and Uncle Nate finished putting together your massive swingset, and everyone had a good time going down the slide with you, even Uncle Nate, who got a little stuck at the bottom.

* Peg Peg and Tex were able to join in the "Happy Birthday" singing on the webcam.

*All day long, you reminded everyone that you are ONE. Just in case we didn't see you the first 57 times, you told us 58.

There were so many photos that I couldn't fit them in a blog post, so I had to make this video recap:

Thanks for being such a gracious hostess and such a sweet birthday girl.

Love,

Mom

Laney's Luau: Please Stay Tuned

Dear Readers,

We had a fabulous birthday party today, and I'm still going through the 300+ photos I took in order to write a wrap-up blog post.

In the meantime, if you want to know how old Laney is, just ask her:

Love,

Brooke

Too Much Trauma For Your Mama

Dear Laney,

This morning, we went into town for your 12-month appointment with Dr. Hoover. It appears that you're in great shape, and you performed all your little tricks - you did "Gimme five," and "Where's Mama's nose?" and you shook your index finger when I told her about how we read the part in the book that warns, "No more monkeys jumping on the bed!"

But then it came time to give you your shots: one in each thigh, and one in each arm. You cried. You wailed. Your face turned bright red and you stopped breathing because you were so upset. So I started to cry. And then the nurse asked, "Mom, can you hold her arms down?" Well, no, no I could not. I was too busy sobbing. When the shots were over, I quickly got you dressed and high-tailed it out of there. You were done with the crying by the time you got to the elevator, but I cried all the way to Walmart.

Then we went to the airport and picked up Brian and his dog Ben, who have flown in from Los Angeles to attend your birthday party. Brian can say he's the only person to attend both the Oscars AND your birthday party in the same year.

When your dad came home, we all went for a little hike, but first Brian and Ben had to have a little talk about how things work in Montana...you know, that Ella's the boss, but you can tinkle on anything you want.

When we got home, Brian let you play with his iPad. It's the kind of sweet, optimistic thing that someone with no children would do. While you were mastering all of his different apps and watching some God-forsaken Lady Gaga videos, I was thinking, "How much will it cost to replace that thing when Laney jams her finger through the screen?"

After you went to bed, the adults stayed up and made the cupcakes for your party tomorrow. Wait 'til you see 'em. They're really...uh...something. Well, at least our hearts are in the right place, even if the frosting isn't.

Really looking forward to tomorrow, sweet girl.

Love,

Mom

I've Always Relied Upon Your Kindness To Strangers

Dear Laney,

This morning, you woke up in a bad mood and the day went downhill from there. Starting at 5am, you set your system to "Ornery" and that was that. Pick me up! Put me down! Scratch my back! Don't touch me! Feed me! Don't you know I hate spaghetti?!? etc. etc. ad nauseum. After ten solid hours of tantrum, I was ready to lock myself in my room and let you take your chances in the rest of the house.

Then I remembered that you are part Southern, and one of the genetic gifts you possess is the ability to turn on the smiles and charm for complete strangers, even when you're mean as hell to your own mama.

What we needed, I figured, was a change of venue. So I threw you placed you gently in your car seat and drove you to town. Sure enough, at the UPS store, you waved and giggled at the man who taped our package. At the bank, you clapped for the teller. At REI, you swiped my library card through the credit card machine and then clapped for yourself. You were a peach, as long as you were in public.

We came home, and it was the same old story: you were back to being a pill. "Hey!," I said to myself, "You know what always works? The dogs!" So these are a few images of you with the dogs this evening:

Spaghetti on your face? Check.

Peanut butter on your shirt? You betcha.

Ella slobber on all your extremities? Most likely.

Dust all over your clothes? Have mercy.

But you're not fussing, and somehow that lone barrette in your hair keeps the whole thing classy.

And your mom has lived to fight another day.

Love,

Me

P.S. Some of our more observant readers will notice that the quality of these photos is lousy. That's because your dad is on an overnight trip to Dillon and thinks that "official government business" is a more important use of our camera than "official Laney business," so he took the camera with him. To make do, I pulled some still frames from the video I shot. Yo mama is crafty.

Happy Birthday To Our Girl

Dear Laney,

I can't believe you're a year old today. Seems like just yesterday we were at the hospital. Here are a few of my favorite moments from my favorite year ever:

We love you very much,

Mom & Dad

Laney of the Lake

Dear Laney,

This weekend, we went on a trip to Lake Pond Oreille in northern Idaho with your Grandma Sue & Erik and your uncle Nate.

You got to sit by the shore and throw rocks, which is one of your favorite pastimes. The rental house had a trampoline that you LOVED bouncing in with your dad and Nate. And when your dad and Nate took the canoe out for a spin, you ate strawberries with Grandma Sue and waited for them to come back.

You and I enjoyed sitting in the backyard and throwing handfulls of Cheerios to a seagull.

It was a great weekend for everyone, so thanks to Grandma Sue for putting it together.

Love,

Mom

P.S. Apparently, your grandmother read the blog post about not buying presents for you, so all weekend, you could hear her saying things like, "This is Grandma Sue's Zhu Zhu pet robotic hamster, but if you want to play with it, I guess that would be ok." So congrats to Sue for finding and exploiting the loophole in the "no presents " policy.

Sanford & Daughter

Dear Laney,

We got a call a few weeks ago from your Uncle Nate, who said that his very sweet neighbor had a swingset he wanted to give away. We immediately said we wanted it, and made arrangements for your dad to go pick it up.

"Swingset" in this case is a massive understatement. Play Fortress might be closer. There are elementary schools that don't have a playground this big. When I saw it for the first time in the neighbor's yard, I couldn't believe that your dad and Nate thought they could actually dismantle it and get it out to Alberton with only the help of Great-Grandpa Ron's old truck. I should know by now that this is the exact kind of challenge that those Burbach boys live for. Need a wood shop built in a day? They're on it. Need a 300-pound water heater dropped through a hole into the basement? Consider it done.

A few hours later, we heard a rumble in the driveway, and this is what we saw driving in:

I immediately went and grabbed the camera, because if they ever decide to host a Redneck Rose Bowl, I'm quite certain this could be a prize-winning parade float.

Next up: Assembly!

Love,

Mom

Guessing Game: The Answer

Dear Laney,

Several people called, commented or e-mailed their guesses for the number of photos in the Laney iPhoto library, but your dad actually had the closest guess with 2500. The actual number of photos? 2517.

Unfortunately, your dad is not eligible to receive a prize, since he has already won the Grand Prize Of All Time: being married to me. How lucky should one man be, really?

Love,

Mom

The Breakfast Club

Dear Laney,

This morning, we had to get up at 6am so we could drive into town and get the car serviced. 6am used to be what I would refer to as "the middle of the night." But then you came into my life, and now it's RISE AND SHINE! UP AND AT 'EM, MOM! I KNOW YOU HEAR ME DOWN THERE! time.

While our car was being worked on, I pushed you in your stroller to Caffe Dolce for breakfast, which you thought was pretty boring...

...until Mollie made her grand entrance. Yes, the one good thing about our service appointment was that the garage and the restaurant are just a few blocks from Virginia and Mollie's house so they were able to join us.

You shared your blueberries with Mollie, and you kept trying to share your utensils until Mollie looked at me like, "Why does your child think I want that dang spoon?"

We had one little kerfuffle when you were sooo busy checking out Mollie and everyone else in the place that you got turned a little sideways in your high chair, like this:

...and then somehow, in the blink of an eye, your butt slipped out the front end of the chair. You had one leg in and one leg out and I thought it was going to take a hacksaw and a tub of butter to liberate you from that thing. In my Crazed Mama mode, I briefly considered bashing the wooden chair against the concrete floor 'til it came apart. Luckily, Virginia and I were able to pull you out and you won't be spending the rest of your life as a conversation piece at an Italian cafe.

At least Mollie had a good time.

Love,

Mom

A Guessing Game!

Dear Laney,

When your great-grandpa Ron was here last month, he asked me, "How many pictures have you taken of that baby?" I know he was suggesting that I don't take nearly enough.

Ahem.

Because I backed up my iPhoto library last night, I now know exactly how many photos I have taken of you since you were born (not counting the 177 various ultrasound photos).

So I thought it would be fun to have a guessing game, like those old "How many marbles in the jar?" contests.

The person who guesses closest without going over (we'll use the same rules as "The Price is Right") will win a to-be-determined prize.

Commence guessing!

Love,

Mom

EDITED TO ADD: We received an excellent question from the lady affectionately known around our house as The Other Brooke. She writes:

Are you counting total photos *taken* or just those you've kept (i.e., not the ones with eyes closed, etc.)?

She is correct in assuming that I immediately delete about 30% of the photos I take. We'll keep this contest to photos KEPT, so subtract 30% from how many you think I've TAKEN. Gosh, this just went from a breezy guessing game to actual MATH. Boo.

Laney n' Me

Dear Laney,

I found one of my baby pictures this morning, and thought it would be fun to see us together.

Love,

Mom

Jackie Jr.

Dear Laney,

Like most crazy Southern women, I have a "Tupperware" cabinet that is filled with what could loosely be called a "collection" of old Cool Whip and butter containers, lid-less pitchers and assorted Rubbermaid items that other people have left at my house and I refuse to give back because THOSE bowls actually have matching lids.

So today, when you opened this cabinet and reviewed the heaping jumble inside and turned around and gave me the MOST disapproving look (this is how I know you're descended from Granny Jack), I decided it was time to organize the cabinet.

And this is where that "Jackie gene" you inherited came in handy, because not only did you help me sort the lids, you went the extra mile and climbed IN the cabinet to fetch the stuff that's been stuck in the back since the actual Jackie organized this cabinet a year ago during her visit.

I know, I know. You're right - I never should have let it get this messy. I'll try to do better, I promise. I want to be organized, I do.

Now hush up with all the judging and get back to cleaning.

Love,

Mom

Laney's Birthday - A Preview and an FYI

Dear Grandparents (7), Great-Grandparents (3), Aunts and Uncles (2) and Great Aunts and Uncles (14, I think),

As you may know, Laney is turning one year old in a few weeks and we'll be celebrating with a Luau in our own backyard.

I just thought I should mention that what this child needs for her birthday: NOTHING.

Toys? Got 'em.

Books? We're bigger than the Alberton Library.

Clothes? Great Goddamighty.

Just a gentle suggestion that you in NO WAY need to send a gift to this young'un. We're all blessed beyond belief.*

I told Thor I was going to write a post discouraging the grandparents from sending gifts and he said "Yeah, good luck with that."

Love,

Brooke

*However, if you ever want to show your love by babysitting, feel free to give us a ring-a-ding-ding on the telephone and we'll set you right up.

The Day Did Take A Turn For The Better

Dear Laney,

UPDATE:

Your Saturday was saved when you got to meet up with your uncle Nate for a cheese quesadilla and some parking lot rasslin'

Love,

Mom

All's Not Fair At The Fair

Dear Laney,

This morning, we loaded up and headed into town to attend the Western Montana Fair.

Allow me to digress for a moment...

Sometimes, the Montana version of things is not the version of things I'm used to as a Southern-American. For example: football. Last fall, I attended a football "tailgate" at the University of Montana. I guess it could technically be called a tailgate because it featured grilled meat and beer and was within spitting distance of a football game, but it was in no way like the football tailgates of my youth. Where were the RVs that have been camped out for weeks and the drunken revelers yelling out nonsense like "Wahoowa!" or "Rammer Jammer Yellow Hammer!" while serving up pulled pork from the back of a tricked out truck-slash-mobile barbecue pit? For God's sake, where were all the people? If pressured to guess, I would say that the population of the Sanford Stadium parking lot on a fall Saturday would top the population of the entire state of Montana.

I say that as an introduction to this: Fairs in Montana ain't exactly Fairs.

The first red flag should have been when we called your uncle Nate and asked him if he wanted to come to the Fair with us, and without pausing to even inhale, he said "No, no I would not. I have no interest in that. No thank you."

We spent exactly 48 minutes at the Fair today, which should be called the "Western Montana Little Carnival Thingie." There was one small midway and a building that hosted livestock judging and that was about it. Where were the deep fried Twinkies? The funnel cakes the size of your head? The chocolate-covered bacon?? I was cursing the whole experience, particularly the loss of my $6 admission... until we entered the "Culinary Arts" building, and I got to behold the following prize-winning entries in the food competitions:

...like the watermelon bear with a cabbage head and cucumber appendages. I don't know if you can read the judge's comment on the attached card, but it reads "Very clever!" I wish I knew the Judge's home address so I could send him a letter on the dangers of enabling.

Then there was this monstrosity, which looks like what would happen if you threw half of our pantry in a paint mixer with a hot glue gun:

This one I can't even make fun of (although the Saltine roof is particularly startling), because it looks so much like the ACTUAL house at the end of our road.

This is actually cute, until you realize that it's store-bought Pepperidge Farm cookies coated in frosting to look like flip-flops. And it won a RIBBON.

For some reason, this all reminded me of that episode of "Designing Women" when they were talking about beauty pageants and Suzanne Sugarbaker said, "In Georgia, we don't care if you can play the harp with your teeth, you're not getting in the pageant unless you're pretty."

Through the whole 48 minutes, you had this same look on your face - one that seemed to beg the question, "Why the hell did you get me out of bed and make me wear this barrette if all I was going to do was look at this Hall of Hot Mess?"

I promise, you won't have to go to the "Fair" again until you're 12 and beg me to let you go so you can ride the Zipper with your friends 86 times. And I will be waiting for you in the parking lot, holding on to my $6.

Love,

Mom

T.G.I.F.

Dear Laney,

This is the kind of afternoon we're having. Wheee...

If I hadn't fixed it myself, I would wonder what's in that sippy cup.

Love,

Mom

Life Lesson #5: Stealing Is Wrong

Dear Laney,

Yesterday, we went to Costco to buy three items: milk, eggs, dog food. An hour and $200 bucks later, we were on our way out of store. As we approached The Guy Who Pretends To Check Your Receipt Before Swiping It With A Highlighter (his official title), I realized that you were smuggling a foam book about animals in your part of the buggy.

So I asked The Guy to check our receipt to see if we had paid for the book, which of course we hadn't. I would have just left it there in the store, but you had cleverly already removed the plastic wrapping, so the only right thing to do was to buy the dang book. So we got BACK in line, waited our turn and bought the book.

As you were going through the check-out line for the second time, you hit it off with The Lady Who Crams All Of Your Purchases Into Boxes. She said "Laney, you're too young for a life of crime!" which you thought was HILARIOUS, and then she said "Seriously, you don't want to go down that road..." which you thought was HYSTERICAL.

But the lady's right: Shoplifting is wrong, because it's morally reprehensible and it irritates your mother. You can decide which of those is the bigger deal.

In other Costco news, we came home with a bell pepper box which has become Laney's Official World Headquarters.

I don't know what it is about this box, but you've spent most of yesterday and today sitting in it. And yes, ANIMALS is the book that we bought yesterday, so I hope you're enjoying it. You owe me $6.

Love,

Mom