After tasting the dinner I spent 45 minutes preparing for her: “I don’t love it.”

While helping me gather my pajamas before bed time: “You have to get your pull-ups.”

After encouraging her father to eat more pretend Playdough pizza before going to the gym: “Eat your food, so you’ll have lots of injuries.”

While recapping her day at school: "I ate pears and stuff. We played ball and stuff. The little babies cried and stuff."

Labels: Video

Hello blog. It’s me, Jennifer. In case you’re wondering where I’ve been for the past two months, I can summarize it quickly as follows:

• Lana’s doctor’s office


• Lana’s doctor’s office


• My doctor’s office


• In bed trying not to suffocate on my own snot


• Lana’s doctor’s office


• My doctor’s office


• Christmas shopping and cleaning up four boxes worth of used tissue

So, it is with tremendous relief that I report that Lana and I are both finally well, our Christmas presents have been purchased and wrapped, the house has been disinfected, and we are ready for Santa’s visit tonight. The only thing we didn’t manage, in fact, was a trip to see the jolly old man in person. My guilt over missing Santa was enough to drive me to do the unthinkable – pack you up in the car and drive to mall on Christmas Eve. Fortunately, your Omo and Opop (John’s parents) were also in the Christmas Spirit and volunteered to meet us at the mall.

Our trip began on a sour note when Lana was too scared to ride the Merry Go Round at the entrance, and went downhill further as we stood in line to see Santa for over 45 minutes. During that time, Lana alternated clinging to us like a koala bear, agreeing that she would sit with Santa, and then proclaiming Santa scary and asking to go home. As we approached the front of the line, her requests to go home became urgent and I actually stepped out of line to walk around with her. And then it began snowing. Technically, a couple of snow machines mounted above the Santa set began spewing fake snow, but for Lana it was like a sign from the heavens. We ventured into Santa’s photo area to catch snow with the other children and she immediately began to relax and smile. Then Santa appeared and asked Lana if she was enjoying the snow. She just looked at him in stunned silence, but as he walked away she yelled, “I want you to bring me balls!”

After that, Lana couldn’t wait for her turn to see Santa again. I plopped her down in his lap and watched in amazement as she smiled up at him and began chatting about how she liked to play ball. We got a better photo with Santa than I would have ever imagined and as a bonus, Santa spent ten minutes after our visit playing peek-a-boo and blowing kisses to Lana while his elves fixed the photo printer.

We wrapped up our outing with two rides on the merry go round, once with me and once with Omo. On the way home Lana took turns waving out the window to Santa and declaring him “a nice guy.” Christmas miracles are real, dear blog, and here is the evidence:



Merry Christmas!

Dear Lana,

After you went to sleep last night, your father and I watched a changing of the guard in American politics. We watched as people across the country celebrated the election of the first African American and, in my opinion, the absolute best candidate for the job, to the presidency of the United States. And even though I voted for Barack Obama, his acceptance speech moved me in a way that I didn’t expect. I found myself truly excited about the political process and hopeful, for the first time in a long time, that we as a nation can work together to create a brighter future for our children.

I sincerely hope that, in time, this will prove to be the turning point so many of us have longed for. That one day you will open a history textbook and read the words of our new president, and you too will be proud.

“This is our time, to put our people back to work and open doors of opportunity for our kids; to restore prosperity and promote the cause of peace; to reclaim the American dream and reaffirm that fundamental truth, that, out of many, we are one; that while we breathe, we hope. And where we are met with cynicism and doubts and those who tell us that we can't, we will respond with that timeless creed that sums up the spirit of a people: Yes, we can.”

- President Elect Barack Obama, November 4, 2008

Love,
Mommy (JMo)

After dinner this evening Lana and I headed to Walmart to pick up a few groceries. We were walking through the parking lot when a minivan in front of us opened its side door to reveal an interior that was less than tidy. Lana literally gasped when she saw it and yelled, "Oh! JMo! They got junk in that car!" I nodded in agreement and attempted to hustle her past the offensive car and its within-earshot occupants, but Lana would not be deterred. "Junk, JMo! They got JUNK!!"

We made it into the store without offending anyone else and enjoyed checking out the selection of goldfish (real ones), sunglasses, and winter coats. At one point Lana walked around modeling both a faux-fur trimmed coat and a pair of Pooh sunglasses that she picked out, declaring, “I look pretty!” to anyone that walked by. By the time we returned to our car and I opened the trunk, I’d completely forgotten about the messy minivan. Lana apparently had not. She took one look inside the car and said in her most official and approving tone, “We don’t got junk in our trunk.”

Dear Lana,

For two years now, I have spent time at the end of each month (and too often the beginning of the following month) writing a post to you about your exploits and adventures. It has been a wonderful way for me to preserve all the amazing moments we’ve shared together and document important milestones like your first introduction to solid foods, first public bout with constipation, first steps, first day of school, and your first obsession. And now it’s over.

I’ve decided, after much consideration, that the 25th month marks a good time to discontinue formal monthly updates. Mostly because if I don’t stop now, I’m sure I’ll find myself up late at night trying to finish a recap of month 182. But at least that month should be easy: “Dear Lana, you rolled your eyes at me a lot this past month. Please cut it out. Love, That Woman You Don’t Like to be Seen With.”

This in no way means that I won’t continue to provide updates on new developments, like your sudden fixation with “Clifford the Big Red Dog” and new bedtime ritual, which requires that a minimum of nine stuffed animals join you in your crib each night. I’ll also continue to report on all the incredibly endearing moments, like hearing your voice over the baby monitor as you awake in the morning and immediately begin singing “Happy Birthday” to one of your many crib-mates. It’s just that I may do it a little less often. You’ll be glad for this come month 182.



Love,

JMo

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