Warm Cookies With A Whiskey Chaser

The Perfect Mix of Comfort and Shenanigans

Blogroll Me!
100 Things About Me
Tinmen Don't Dance
Humble Sandwich
A Son from Another Mother; Matt
Auburn Pisces
Splenda In The Grass
the bokey chronicles
Jeffrey Ricker
Rocket Man
The Beauty of All Things
No Milk Please
A Life In The Day
Shadow Footprints
Scott B Blog
Seth Hancock Photography
Famous Author Rob Byrnes
Watersea's Ocean Bloggie
Cheap Blue Guitar
Does This Mean I'm A Grownup?
Upside Down Hippo
Loose Ends

Monday, November 10, 2008

And Then I Blinked...

I'm not one of those mothers who spent a great deal of time putting together baby books which chronicled the growth and events of my kids lives. Instead, when they were born, I just kept a camera close and decided that until some time passed after their births and I KNEW their personality a little better, I would write something that had more meaning than charting how much they weighed, how long or how tall they were, how much they ate or how often they pooped. Fact is, babies are poop factories, and mine were 21 months apart, so how much time did I have to put together baby books? That's how I justify it. Work with me.

When they were each a year old, I wrote a little "blurb" that I felt, at that time, captured who this little creature was, and I framed that with a collage of pictures. The blurb for Caris is as follows:


It means "grace" this little word. This name as minute as the child that owns it.
This small, second gift, sent just when we thought we had this parenting thing down to a science.

She was received in great surprise, and brought surprises with her when she made her entrance; kicking and screaming.

We stand amazed at her physical prowess. In awe, with pending heart failure, we watch this tiny dynamo leapfrog from one piece of life to another, giggling all the way. And in spite of ourselves, we giggle too.

We delight as much in our folly of attaching a delicate name to one so spirited, as in our great fortune of being the parents of this precious elf.

As her small arms wrap tightly around your neck, the fullness of her love takes captive your heart. We give our hearts freely, knowing full well, we will never get them back.

Yesterday, Caris turned 21. Twenty-one. It's difficult for us to fathom. She was born. Then we blinked. And now she's twenty-one. I stood in the hallway, looking at her collage and reading her blurb and I smiled. Because all those years ago, I pegged her. She still leapfrogs through life. She still kicks and screams with passion (figuratively). She still brings surprises and we still, quite often, feel a sense of pending heart failure where she's involved. But she still makes us giggle, and when she hugs you, you KNOW she means it.

Her personality has, from Day One, been the complete opposite of the literal translation of "grace". But twenty-one years later, she has completely grown into the definition of her name. I couldn't be more proud to be her mom.

Happy Birthday Bunny. I love you.

Now get out your I.D. and let's go to Vegas!