To Libby on your 1st Birthday

Libby,

I love you.  You are so cute. So happy. So Yourself.  I once heard a man on the radio say that he thought that opposite worked in only two directions until he had his third child.  I get it, now.  You are opposite of both Bruce and Stella.  I don't know how that works. You are playful and cuddly and smart. Scary smart.

Swinging at Memorial Day

You are a monkey.  My earliest walker.  10 and 1/2 months. I wasn't ready for that.  But you had places to go and big kids to keep up with.  I have often said that mobility agrees with you. You were the clingiest baby I have ever experienced.  Even Daddy couldn't hold you for long.  But now, now you're on the move and willing to go to other people.

Playing in the Sprinkler

You're getting more liberal with your smiles, like Stella. But you're stingy with your kisses, like Bruce. You have the same blonde hair and blue eyes as both of them.

Jealous because Daddy was holding Charlie

You have 8 teeth. Almost. I can feel sharp little number eight in there. You weigh just about what Stella did at her first birthday. That was a bit of a surprise since you started out so much bigger, but once you started to move there was no stopping you!

A Springtime Picnic

You still won't sleep through the night, but at least now you'll take a nap in your own bed.

You are a climber.  Two weeks ago you figured out the ladder for the slide.  It scares me to death, but you're so proud every. single. time. This week you added the ladder to Stella's top bunk.  I'm not ok with that one either!  You climb onto chairs, tables, laundry baskets, book crates, everything you can.

Showing off your new pajamas

You don't say much.  Mama, and hi and hey.  You don't really cry for me to come get you, you yell.  "Hey! Hey! Heeeeeyyy!"  It always makes us smile.  You might not have many words, but you sure do communicate!  For a while when you wanted more food at dinner you would stand up in your high chair and point. We moved you to a booster seat for your safety and our sanity! Your voice is almost husky. I think you'll sing alto.  You love music.

Uncle Henry and Aunt Kerri's Wedding Day

The only food I can be sure you will eat until you can't eat any more is blueberries.  You would eat a whole pint if I'd let you. You also like every other fruit you've encountered.  But you could live without bread or meat. You like brussel sprouts, you'll sometimes eat asparagus. But you spit out chicken every time.  You do like hot dogs, sausage, and much to your Daddy's chagrin, scrapple.  You've got plenty of Bingaman in there. PoPs and I joke that we've never met a junk meat we didn't like either!

Enjoying your first Watermelon

At your birthday party last weekend Bruce got you a stuffed Parrot. You love it.  Two days before Momom said you needed a soft-thing.  I said you wanted me to be your soft thing.  But you have decided the bird will be it.  I swear it's like you understood.

You knew what to do, Show off your present. This is Perdy.

You really do understand a lot.  I said you were smart.  You watch everything, and mimic everything. You want to be a big kid way more than I remember Stella and Bruce wanting it.

First Birthday Cake

I can't believe how fast this year has gone.  Some days I wonder how you ever learned your name. We call you Libby, LibbyDawn, Libs, LibbyBibby, Daddy sometimes calls you Little Bit.

You love to be wet

Bruce can't keep his hands off of you. He loves you so much. And Stella thinks she must be your mother, she wants to love and protect you all the time. You think that the sun rises and sets on them.  You love to be where they are, a part of what they're doing.  

We all love you, Libby.  We're so glad God put you in our family!

Chicken BarBQue

Disclaimer  **This post has nothing to do with my previous post**

When Sid and I began looking at the website for the church where we are now serving I got to the committee page and chuckled.  I said, the have a BarBQue committee.  They have more than 1 BBQ committee.  Sid just looked at me like, what did you expect.  This past Saturday I got to see why we need a committee for the Chicken BBQ Fundraiser. 

Apparently the church is known in the community for it's bbq.  I am intrigued.  I've seen the pits across the street, but I haven't look closely at them. Here's how it all goes down:

8 am: About 15-20 people, mostly men show up to work.  They start by cleaning the racks, cutting some wire, starting the fires in the pits (all 5 of them), and  then "racking" the chicken. The racks are large, metal grates.  They remind me of the grill rack my parents used to use when they did fish on the grill, only big.  Really big.  They are swept off, then brush on some oil, open them up and lay the chicken on them.  It takes 4-6 men to wire the racks closed. 

10 am: Another 15-20 people show up, more women now, and they make the coleslaw and put the applesauce in little cups, people put sliced bread in baggies, and somebody starts the all important bbq sauce! (Sorry, I don't have pictures of any of these parts.)

1 or 2pm:  More people!  THis year there were quite a few teens who came, and they had the job of squirting sauce into condiment cups and putting lids on them. Good stuff!  Then... The Tables are set up.  The chicken has been on the pits, it's almost done. The tables are set up for two lines.  A plate of chicken will get a half chicken, a scoop of cloeslaw, a pickle, a cup of applesauce, 2 slices of bread, and a cup of bbq sauce.

3pm:  The chicken is starting to come off the racks.  Somebody checks the temperature, to make sure it's done.  They snip the wires, open the rack, making sure everything stays on the same side of the rack.  It gets a coat of sauce, then it's placed into a big tub and covered to stay warm until it's plated.  The plates are really 3 section to-go boxes.

4pm: Sale time.  And people are here and hungry.  Some have tickets (that were passed out or sold weeks ago), some people swing by and pay cash (from what I can see).  But by 6 pm all 1000+ chicken dinners are sold.  And this is the SMALL BBQ? 

It was a really fun, busy, long day.  I loved it. Oh, and the chicken is worth being known for!

To Bruce on his 3rd Birthday

Bruce-Man,
  I love you. You are the funniest, snuggliest, most determined, hard-working, helpful boy.  You are always making me laugh.  You are also talking up a storm and becoming more and more understandable every day.  I was worried there for a few months, but you communicate now!  You say funny things too.  My favorite  phrase right now is "Me still drinky" when you want more to drink.
  You decided 2 days before your birthday that you were a "big boy" and should not wear diapers anymore.  I agreed and you have been in big boy pants ever since.  I've done more laundry in the last 5 days than I had in the 3 weeks leading up to it.  You're getting there though and I'm very proud of you. I'm working on patience.
  You love tools.  All tools.  Tools for construction and tools for gardening and tools for eating.  It's so much fun to watch you.  You got big shovels, a rake, a hoe, and a broom for your birthday.  All your size.  It's all you want to play with.  You also got a t-ball set and a baseball glove.  You liked them, but you barely looked at them when we set them up.  You had tools and a spot in the garden to dig.
  You told me yesterday that you loved me.  There is nothing in the world that could have made me happier.  You also told me you loved Daddy, Detta (That's how you're saying Stella these days), and you love "Me, Myself." Followed by PoPs and Mom-Mom.  It was funny. And sweet.
  I love you Buck.

Love,

Mommy


I'm not sure how this wasn't published in June.  It was written then!  Ooops!

Southern Colloquialisms and Other Observations

As a Pennsylvanian newly transplanted in north east Georgia, and a city girl moved to a small town, I'd like to share some of my observations. First of all, who knew that one small town could support so many Fried Chicken and Bar B Que joints. Seriously. Do they eat much else? The grocery store isles assure me that they do, and I can even find some of the lesser known ingredients that are general staples in my pantry (chinese rice noodles, yay!). 

Also, they do speak English here. And I speak English. But there are moments when I have to translate. I hear the words, but they don't make sense. I have to slowly, mentally repeat what was said sometimes more than once, before I know what was said. It's usually not to bad since this isn't my first foray into the world of southern accents (Thanks, Lynchburg!)

And then, the things they say. My favorite was this one, from a discussion among some ladies at church, "He was sweats worse than a rented mule." I don't even remember who we were talking about, which is probably a blessing. I laughed so hard. This is so far outside of my experience that I would never think to say that.  There are more, but as this is already becoming a long post I'll wrap it up.

I do want to say that I love where we are.  I love the people we've met.  I love the church we're a part of.  None of these things I joked about are bad.  They're just my observations of things that are noticeably different from my big city, decidedly Yankee "home."  I am glad to be calling Georgia home.  


Oh, and keep an eye out for more colloquialisms.  I think I'm gonna start a collection, "y'all!"

Bruce Man

Bruce is so much fun right now.  He's silly. And  chatty.  And lovey.  And I love every minute of it.  Right now he is sleeping with a J.M. Cremps catalog, open to "the digging page."  He asks for the Lowe's ads in the paper in the morning by asking for the "tool paper."  He can tell you what a hammer, pliers, wrench, flat head and philips head screwdrivers, drill, and shovel, rake, and hoe are and what they do. 

He likes to cuddle when he wakes up, which after nap time is one of the best times of my day. But lately he looks up at me and responds to my I love yous with his own.  But he also will tell me he loves my eyelashes, ears, nose, teeth.  It makes me laugh every time. He also climbs into my lap and says "I not love you, 'member that?"
 
He wants to use tools, and do "man stuff" with Daddy or PoPs.  He can spend hours playing with a shovel outside under the tree or with a board and hammer and nails.  He's a bit of a loner.  He is happy to play by himself even when there are other kids around.  But he's not anti-social.

I love that boy!

  

Miscellaneous reading material

In the last 24 hours I have read 3 blog posts about children, and siblings, and motherhood.  All of them have resonated deeply in my heart.  I wanted to share them here.  They are beautiful.

The first one I  read was from Kate Connor  This post titled  "There is room".

The next is from my Mom's blog, this titled "Sibling Revelry".

And, finally, this post my friend Michelle shared from Faith Rising titled "I'm (Still) Wasting My Life".

They are all on different topics and at the same time they're the same.  They're about children, and family, and the blessing that children are.  Even when they're all grown up and you're gone, they bless each other. 

I'm pondering these things today.

Week 3

Another week has passed and I am again just getting to a post!  This week is cold.  And my Hubby's truck doesn't like it very much.  So we're staying nice and warm inside, and he's taking the van to work.  We're hanging out in our PJ's for too long and playing, and reading, and putting together puzzles and eating more peanut butter than a family should! 

I caught the kids reading and playing so nicely together in the "red chair" the other morning.

Project 52- Week 2

Well, since I am obviously not a very good blogger, it's the 2nd(ish) week of January and I am already behind.  Sort of. So, pictures.

 She posed all by herself.  I'm not sure where she learned this stance.

Puppy in the mouth.  Typically.

  I love my kids.  They crack me up!