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

I Should Know By Now...

Dear Laney,

I've had almost a year's experience in being your mom, but I still make dumb mistakes - like assuming you couldn't climb your way into a patio chair if you set your mind to it. Silly, silly me.

Thanks for reminding me that you are not to be underestimated.

Love,

Mom

Olé!

Dear Laney,

They outlawed bullfighting in Catalonia last week, which struck a major blow for animal rights groups everywhere.

In related news, you were introduced to refried beans this week, which should prove beneficial to the pro-pinto bean lobby.

Love,

Mom

I'll Bet She Thinks She's Sooooo Funny.

Dear Laney,

We got a birthday present in the mail for you today from your Aunt Robyn. She sent you the cutest barrettes and a picture frame and a puzzle. But the REAL gift was 8 billion giblets of paper.

Yes, your aunt sent a one-year-old a big ol' box of confetti. And boy was it a hit.

Now all of our readers know what to send you for your birthday: a big box of their shredded tax receipts.

Love,

Mom

Brooke's Hospital For Books

Dear Laney,

Lately, you've really been enjoying your pop-up and lift-the-flap books. But you've also discovered that there's a more effective way to find the jungle animals than lifting the flap every time you look at the book - now, you just rip the paper tree out of the book entirely. That'll teach that damn monkey to hide from you.

While I find it super irritating to have to glue pieces back into your books on a daily basis (I currently have glue drying on a monkey's ear, an elephant's waterfall and a penguin's shower curtain), I have to admit there's a certain brutal efficiency to your system.

Love,

Mom

Today's Guest Blogger: Dad!

Dear Laney,

It's possible that the people who read this blog might think that you are an ideal infant, and raising you is a breeze. Ninety something percent of the time, that's true. But occasionally, there are moments - like when you wake up at 3am and refuse to go back to sleep and instead start wailing like you're a back-up singer for AC/DC...or when you pitch a hissy because I closed the dishwasher before you were done throwing all the forks on the ground - when motherhood isn't so peachy. So this afternoon, instead of resorting to yelling or crying or a kicky blend of prescription meds, I treated myself to a Mom's Day Out and went into town solo. Call it a mental health getaway.

While I was running my errands, your dad took you on a little trip with the dogs. You can read his version of the day below.

Love you bunches,

Mom

Dear Laney,

Today, you took your dogs for a hike. We went about 2 miles up Wagon Mountain Rd. One day we'll go cross country skiing there, too. Gus and Ella had lots of fun, but they would have liked it better if it was snowing. You tried to say "Gus" a few times - you're finally starting to believe your mom and me when we tell you the dogs aren't both named "Ella." Right now, "Gus" comes out like "Ugh," but we think it still counts.

Your mom doesn't like the truck very much, but you think it's awesome, 'cause you get to sit up front. You laughed and sang the whole time.

I had a great time today, and I hope you did, too.

Love,

Dad

Boost Me Up, Baby

Dear Laney,

This evening, we met your dad in town for dinner at the Mexican restaurant. While I was in the restroom, your dad decided that you were big enough for a booster chair, and you don't need a high chair anymore. That'll teach ME to tinkle.

Then, the waitress decided you were grown up enough for your own big-girl drink, complete with straw. And then I ordered you your own grilled cheese, on your own plate.

I don't guess I need to tell you how you felt about these developments:

I'm very proud of you, big girl.

Love,

Mom

H2Oh My Goodness

Dear Laney,

We had a wet n' wild day today. This morning, we hung out in the backyard, where I filled a bunch of plastic containers with water and brought out your bath toys. You thought this was great fun, until you wanted to see what was at the bottom of one of those tubs of water, and you lifted it up to see...and dumped the entire half gallon of water on your face. It took you a minute to recover from that one.

And we went inside for Bath #1.

This afternoon, I was feeling a little stir crazy, so we took a drive down to the river, where we ran into a big group of French people. I could tell they were French because all six of them were smoking, and it's not 1958. Also, they were speaking French. Then, some locals came by, and we got to meet Angus The Kayaking Dog.

You sat in the river and played with the rocks and played with the rocks and played with the rocks some more. I worry you're going to become a Geologist and all of our family dinners are going to sound like "Granite blah blah Metamorphic blah blah Why isn't Mom listening to us?"

Finally, I can not explain why you seem to think that tossing a rock in the river is the height of hilarity, but these moments were definitely the highlight of my day:

And then I brought you home for Bath #2.

Let's do it all again tomorrow.

Love,

Mom

P.S. I don't know if you can see the minnows in this container, but they officially make me the first Burbach to catch any fish this summer.

The Trials and Tribulations of Little Ella

Dear Laney,

Last Thanksgiving, Grandma Sue brought you a miniature stuffed Husky that looks a little like Ella:

Like most things, you were in love with it for about five minutes and then you completely forgot it existed. To be honest, Little Ella found her way into the toy bin, and was forgotten about 'til a week ago.

Since you're fascinated with anything remotely to do with our dog, I pulled out Little Ella and started using her to demonstrate things, like "This is how you pet Ella. Gentle, gentle..."

I even pulled Little Ella out and gave her a fake pedicure so you would feel a little better about having your own toenails cut.

Yesterday, it seemed that all the time we've spent taking care of Little Ella paid off when you spent half an hour trying to force feed her Goldfish crackers.

I don't need to tell you that the real Ella was parked at the back door, silently hollering, "LOOK, YOU CRAZY PEOPLE, THROW THOSE CRACKERS OVER HERE."

Love,

Mom

Time Well Wasted

The dishwasher's full.

The dogs need a bath.

To add up our To Dos

Would take some serious math.

The bills are unopened.

The laundry's unfolded.

Something in the fridge

has probably molded.

I should paint that old table

And water the plants

Sweep up the Gus hair

And iron Dad's pants.

But for one afternoon

We'll leave those things undone

Round up some toys

And sit in the sun.

Because moments like these

Are such fun to behold

And before I can blink

You'll be one year old.

So ignore all the mess

'Cause I've thought it all through...

Nothing's more important

Than time spent with you.

Shoppin' on Sunday

Dear Laney,

We had a nice little Sunday. Your great-aunt Nancy just sent us a gift card to Outback Steakhouse to thank us for our hospitality during her visit a few weeks ago. The gift was unnecessary but totally appreciated, so today we drove into town and you got to eat your favorite meal in the world: Outback's Boomerang Mac n' Cheese. You can really put a dent in a bowl of that stuff.

We did a little shopping at Target and Costco (where you got a new pop-up book about jungle animals. We also got you a CD of children's songs that will probably drive me batty within the week, and I'll have no one to blame but myself).

This evening, you and your dad shared a fruit buffet on the coffee table. It's moments like this that make me realize how much fun y'all are to hang out with. And why my coffee table is always sticky.

Seriously - always.

Love,

Mom