And then there's this damn thing!

Do we really need all the dad's in the United States crying in unison?

Midnight Barter

The other night Rosaline came into to snuggle.  She's pretty consistent with these visits, but we try to limit them to a short time and then take her back to her bed.  Some times it's just her, sometimes she brings stuffed friends - sometimes she brings all her sisters like she did Sunday night and it's a real party.  This time she brought only her precious "buvvy" doll.  She's had this thing since day one so it's very important to her. ... like, "she'll cut you" important. 

So she comes in, get's her cuddle on, a few minutes (maybe hours, hard to tell between 12 and 2am how much time is really passing) and Gina takes her back to bed.  I fall back asleep but am woken back up a short time later with a proposition.  Rosaline has left buvvy in our bed and I am no sleeping on top of him/her/it (can't make up our mind on the gender of this half elephant half blanket thing).  Clearly I was cuddling and Rosaline felt back about the request, so she had brought me her back up buvvy - known as "khouka buvvy" because of it's female doll like head.  Naturally I accepted the swap and cuddled happily with khouka until it was time to get up.

I just love the thoughtfulness of a three year old.  She could have easily screamed and demanded that I return her precious, but instead she took my feelings into concern - perhaps I loved buvvy equally as much - and tried to make sure that after the buvvy removal, I would still have something to cuddle with.

I don't want them to grow up.  I mean I do, I do.  ... but I don't just the same.

Coming Down the Mountain

One of my all time "looking forward to this" moments finally came to fruition this past holiday weekend.  We took the girls up to the mountains and the twins took their first snowboarding lessons.  I was so proud.  I had always wanted them to start early before fear and trepidation really took hold.  I was up on skis by 3 but they've not always shown great command of their bodies or the over all desire to try new and exciting things.  But this year they were ready and - happily - they loved it.  Neither of them showed any reluctance and both were equally excited as we were getting their rental gear squared away.  Gina and I watched the first bit, for our own reassurance, but the further up the mountain they went the harder it got to observe so we finally retreated back to the cabin and waiting the 3 hours until class was done.  As we entered the ski school to pick them up, we braced ourselves for unhappy "why did you do this to us" children.  But there they were; laughing, drinking hot cocoa, completely thrilled with their day.  As they grow up in to womanhood I have no idea where they will go; how they will be; what they will love.  My hope, though, is that no matter where their lives take them or what passions they find for themselves, there will always be little bits of me in there; seeds that I have sewn, that we still have in common.  Even when they become the first sisterly President and VP of the US combo, we'll still strap our boards on together and slice up a mountain or two.

oh, and Rosaline puked about 1/3 of the way through the drive back down the mountain. ... nothing like cleaning up a vomit soaked kid and carseat on the side of a windy, narrow mountain pass while drunk snowboarders yell obsenties at you as they pass.  Thanks for that guys; makes parenting so much easier.

This is how much Rosaline enjoys butternut squash