Dear Sammie Girl,
It’s a sign of true parenthood when the picture chosen for the annual Christmas card isn’t the one that makes the parents look good—it’s the one that makes the baby look good. When we took the family pictures a few weeks ago, I was hopeful that we had come up with some good shots—your dad had shaved, I was having a good hair day, and you were relatively easy going that afternoon.
When it came time to look at the pictures, your dad and I were looking pretty good—but you looked confused, perplexed, and/or dazed. Not quite the smiling happy baby we had envisioned. Back to the drawing board we went.
Note the dazed and confused baby.
So last weekend, we schlepped off to the park by Nonni and Poppa’s house to try to get a decent family picture with—wait for it—a smiling baby. I couldn’t convince your father to shave that morning, and I was having a rather “bleh” hair day, but we had a secret weapon: your Nonni. Nonni can get you to smile for pictures like nobody’s business, so I had high hopes for that all-important family with smiling baby Christmas card picture.
We got it—and then some. My hair may have been doing its own thing and daddy may have looked like Grizzly man, but you look absolutely darling, Miss Sammie, grinning from ear to ear. If you guessed that our Christmas card picture was the one where you are showing us the all-important happy baby smile, you’d be correct.
Vanity almost got the best of me and I almost swapped pictures for one that showed my better side (did I mention that in the earlier pictures I was having a good hair day?), but ultimately mother’s love won over and this picture won:
Although, in hindsight, I wished I had chosen this picture—
In other news, we went to Santa Cruz this past weekend. My dear friend Melissa was having a girls’ night out birthday party on Friday night, and I wasn’t going to miss it for everything. As the event was supposed to be child-free, I convinced Nonni to come along so she could watch you in the hotel room while I got to visit with Melissa for a few hours.
I had a great time, but a few lessons were learned over the weekend:
· It is not a good idea to stay overnight in a new place with a baby who’s used to familiar surroundings and routine, routine, routine.
· It’s a REALLY not good idea to make said unfamiliar location a hotel, where guests are probably not wanting to hear a baby tell her mommy how much she misses said routine from 3:45 to 5:30 in the morning.
· When I brag about how much you sleep through the night in front of other mothers, I’m pretty much jinxing myself.
· I don’t know how other mothers of babies do it—I was a goner after one night of no sleep.
· No matter how little sleep I get, you’re still cute. Even if it is at 4:15 in the morning.
· All restaurants should be on the wharf with outside seating.
· Double-check the route that online mapping sites give you. You never know if it’s going to suggest leaving a perfectly good freeway and turn onto totally random country roads.
· Nonni doesn’t like to drive in unfamiliar places at night, and she REALLY doesn’t like driving in unfamiliar places at night after a wrong turn when you’re already two and a half hours late.
· Visiting awesome friends is an awesome way to make a bad week totally awesome.
· When taking pictures outside, double check to make sure that the camera settings aren’t still on the “fluorescent light” settings. Otherwise, what would have been an adorable picture of three generations ends up looking like said subjects are all members of the Blue Man Group.
· No matter how much the diaper stinks, it is never a good idea to stop on the side of the road by a dairy to change a poopy diaper. Poor poppa was still trying to get the flies out of the car the next day.
Love you tons, my 25 week old baby!
Your mommy
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