Annie is HERE!

Dearest Sammie,

Because being a new mom wasn't enough, I decided to go all kinds of crazy this year and produce the school's biggest show to date: Annie. I'll be the first to admit it: doing a MAJ-AH show with a HUUUGE cast and an insane list of costumes and props WITH animals and children was not my brightest moment.

As a result of this unfortunate timing choice, I've spent the past three weeks *living* in the school's theatre and trying to get the cast and crew up to snuff in time for opening night. While there were times that the rehearsals actually scared me a bit and made me wonder whether Annie would be the one production that didn't meet our expectations, I can honestly say that when the curtains opened last night, we had a good show.

Of course, you were with us every step of the way. The students saw how excited I was when we finalized your adoption in December and transferred those feelings into the show when Annie's adoption is finalized. When you came to rehearsals, as I mentioned earlier, they sang to you. Last night, when Warbucks and Annie sang about how something was missing in their lives before they met each other, I found myself getting a little teary eyed thinking about how *you* were the something that was missing in mine and daddy's life.

I'd break out into cyber song but frankly, even my cyber singing is bad so I'll refrain.

What I will leave you with are these lovely mother-daughter pictures from after the schools' rallies last week. Yes, darlin, we ARE sporting matching show shirts...because that's how we roll around here.








...and of course, you hammed it up a little bit by showing us your old man face:



Love you lots my little Sammie,
your mommy

She TALKS!

Dearest Sammie,

Forget the nonsensical chitter-chatter that you've been spewing out (much to our delight) these past few months: you're using words. Well, more specifically, you're using a word: "Mamma."

You said it for the first time last Friday (January 22) as I changed your diaper. I've been campaigning for your first word to be "Mamma" by saying it constantly whenever we get to spend time together. So, there I was, changing your diaper repeating "mamamamamama" over and over again, and you looked at me square in the eye and said "Ma-ma."

I wasn't sure if I was hearing things, so I repeated my stream of mamas and waited for you to do a repeat performance...and you did!

Ok, so your father is fully convinced that you're either saying "La la" or "Na na" but you and I both know what you're saying, and there's no two buts about it: it's "Mama." Each time you look at me (and the dog, the chair, the fan, the book, the dad) and say "Mama" my heart gets a little bigger and I squeal a little louder.

Love ya darlin,

Your MAMA

2/3 of the way to a Year: 8 Months!

Dearest Sammie,

As of this morning, you traded in being a wee lil' seven month old for being a not-so-wee eight month old. Daddy celebrated the momentous occasion with you by taking you to Denny's so the two of you could share a Grand Slam. Apparently, the hash browns and pancakes were a hit and you partook in quite a few nibbles in between squeals of glee.

Speaking of squeals, you've found your voice. As in, yelling and exclaiming joy at the top of your lungs ranks among your new favorite things to do. This is particularly amusing when you combine it with your own version of "singing," which you're apt to do whenever the radio's on in the car or you find a toy particularly exciting.

The one thing that's not your favorite thing to do hasn't changed since you were two months old: the dreaded tummy time. Apparently, when the doctors-that-be put their heads together and told all parents that putting babies down on their back was best for sleeping, they neglected to take into consideration that they'd created a new monster in the millions of mothers now pulling their hair out because their babies are refusing to lay stomach down for playtime. Regardless, I continue to put you down because I'm sensing that another milestone is around the corner: crawling. So far, we've made progress in the daily tummy time ritual...if you consider progress not immediately rolling over onto your back.

While my hair may be getting thinner as I pull it out in anxiety, your wavy locks continue to get thicker and longer. From the time you were born, one of the first things people said (after "how cute she is!") was "look at all that hair!" Secretly, I've been hoping that your hair would continue to grow longer so that you'd be modeling pigtails by your first birthday. I didn't think we'd be able to reach this personal (and totally nonsensical) goal when your crowning glory started to be less---um---full of glory four months ago. As you started to spend more time sitting up and not lying on your back, the bald spot on the back of your head filled in while the hair on the top and front continued to get longer and longer.

So long, that last Friday I dared to do what I'd been wanting to do for the past eight months: I parted your hair down the middle and put two pigtails on either side of your head...four months ahead of schedule! Granted, it'll take a while for the back of your hair to grow long enough to go in the rubber bands and the hair that does make it to the rubber bands is rather, um, "spiky," but cuteness can still be found in spades:



I've got this picture as my desktop on my school computer now. All day long, when I've got a moment, I stare at it and think of just what a gosh-darned cute, loud, and spunky baby you are.

Loving you more and more,
your mommy

Thursday (Lack of) Update

Dearest Sammie,

Well, darlin, it's Thursday, which means I should be writing about all things Sammie right about now...but that's not going to happen.

Super-working-mother-teacher I am not. After spending three glorious weeks at home with you, simply going back to school and getting right into the swing of directing Annie (which opens in less than three weeks, thankyouverymuch) has been enough to render me just about unconcious each night.

Fortunately, my darling daughter, there weren't a whole lot of exciting things that happened this week so I'm not feeling overly guilty for skimping on this week's post. I mean, you did finally manage to kick that nasty diaper rash thanks to copious amounts of the miracle product "Butt Paste," (sidenote: Butt Paste is your friend--peaches and mangos are not your friend). So...as I doubt you want me to wax on nostalgically about your red behind (or lack thereof, as it stands right now), I'm going to sign off of this computer and do what I've been dreaming about since six o clock this morning: sleep.

Loving you copious amounts,
your mommy


PS. Forgot something: you also learned to give "high fives" (which, when coupled with me giving you a little tickle on your tummy is enough to send you into giggling kiniption fits that last for days)

Our Christmas Break (Cliff's Notes Edition)

Dear Sammie,

As my Christmas break wraps up and I try to be superwoman and try to get everything done at once, it dawned on me: I *almost* forgot to post your weekly update today. Whoopsie-doodle! I suspect that you're going to wake up from your nap soon, so here's the quick cliff's notes version of the past few weeks:

The first week of the break was all about Christmas, Christmas, Christmas. We celebrated until we couldn't celebrate anymore.

The second week of the break was all about the sleeping and being lazy. Fortunately, we're both good at doing these things, because we managed to make staying up and sleeping in late an art form.

The third (and final) week of the break has been about getting all of the things done that was supposed to get done over the course of the three weeks. It's been a challenge, but we've been able to organize closets, visit with friends, celebrate our 6th anniversary, make baby food, scrapbook, and cook gazillions of meals to freeze for future use. I say "we" because you've been a champ through it all while I accomplished these super-mom like tasks.

On the developmental front, you're still refusing to crawl. I've tried putting you on your stomach and placing toys within crawling distance, but that hasn't done a whole lot of good. All you're doing is getting frustrated and rolling back onto your back. Fortunately for you, you're pretty good at sitting and reaching for whatever strikes your fancy.

On the tooth front, you're still all gums. I've stopped saying that you're teething (which I've been saying since August, admitedly) because teeth have yet to appear. Every morning I check, and every morning you look at me like I'm a nutjob for sticking my finger in your mouth.

On the food front, you're still eating whatever's put in front of you, and are making strides toward becoming the independant girl that I know you're going to be. The latest? Getting those cereal things into your mouth with pretty impressive precision. The downside of this is that you've developed sweet gums (I can't say sweet tooth because you don't have any teeth yet) and are demanding them quite regularly.

Well, darling, that's the report--for now, at least. In the time that I've written this, you've woken up from your nap (daddy got you up) and are now whimpering/blabbering/squealing as he tries to get your food and his food ready at the same time. I want to tell him that it isn't going to work, but I'm rather anxious to see how he balances feeding both you and him at the same time.

Loving you more than you love your cereal things,
your mommy

It's 2010!

Dearest Sammie Joy,

Happy New Year! It's amazing what can change in the span of a year. At this time last year, I was writing about flying cars and about how I hoped that 2009 would be the year that we would bring you home. While flying cars never really reached the mainstream group last year, we definitely were able to ring in the New Year with an extra special someone to kiss: you.

Before I get to that, though, I should back up a bit, to Christmas Day. By the time Christmas Day rolled around, it was our sixth celebration and frankly we were ALL a bit tired of the merriment. Regardless, Santa Claus still paid a special girl a visit:

...it's the Laugh & Learn Puppy, and it sings songs and giggles and does tons of fun stuff that truly amazes you. Santa definitely scored with that toy, so score one for the Jolly guy!

You also "opened" a few other presents from dear old mom & dad: your first DVDs (Clifford), and your very first doll:



...the yawn on your face says it all. I think that dolls won't really be your thing for another year or so, but it was important to me that we give you your first doll...so I jumped on the bandwagon before everyone else tries to get you dolls for your birthday in a few months.


The rest of the day was spent at Nonni & Poppa's, where we opened up some more gifts and spent time with the Pullen side of the family. Great family, great food, great times; but as I said earlier, by the end of the night all I wanted was to go back home with our little family and mediocre food and moderately boring times.


Our little family of three:

Fortunately, we've been able to spend the week between Christmas and New Years being the most boring people ever. And I'm really, really okay with that.


Staying home with you while daddy works on his car has made me realize more than ever what I miss when I go to work each day. There's nothing happening and everything happening all at once. We aren't doing anything remarkable, but that in itself is the coolest thing of all. Each morning, I wake you up (by the way, you treat every morning like Christmas morning with the level of excitement that comes out of your little body when you see me come into your room). After a diaper change (of which I'll spare you the details...but you should be grateful that 2009 was not the year that smell-o-vision Internet was invented), I plop you in the high chair and give you breakfast.

As I write this, I don't think I've talked in this blog before about the major milestone you've hit in this past month: eating solid foods. A week or so before Thanksgiving, we started giving you food beyond the standard bottles. I've been waiting for you to start to reject a food group, but frankly my dear, you love it ALL: peas, green beans, carrots, sweet potatoes...literally, EVERYTHING. You also don't have an 'full' button because you could eat until the cows come home. Then you'd throw the cows on the BBQ and eat them, too.

This past week, under the advice of our most awesome pediatrician EVER, we started giving you the puffy cereal for babies that you can pick up with your hands. At first, you didn't quite know what to do with the star shaped food on your tray. You'd pick it up, keep it in your fist, get distracted, and suck your thumb. In the last few days, though, you've made remarkable progress and about 90% of the food that approaches your mouth in your hand actually makes it in your mouth.

The cool side of it is that you've mastered the art of self-feeding. The not cool side of it is that you've mastered the art of self-feeding and find it only fair that everything WE eat you should eat, too. Mealtimes, while already rushed, have become a marathon event as we gulp food down with one hand while tossing cereal puffs in your direction with the other hand.

We did just that today when we stopped at Taco Bell this afternoon on our way up to Shaver Lake with some friends of ours. I swear, Sammie girl, that if you could have thrown your high chair tray out of the way and wolfed my grilled stuffed burrito down, you would've in a nano second. Fortunately, we gave you your cereal puffs, and this kept you appeased in between your grunts of displeasure.

Our reason for going up to Shaver on New Year's Eve was simple: to play in the snow and get some cute snow pictures of a certain cherubic looking baby.

Check, check and triple check:















At some point, though, you started to look a little too cold so we wrapped my scarf around you and sent you off with daddy to the car to warm up a little:


Once we were back home in the early evening, we continued our New Year's festivities by whipping up the last of the Holiday foodstuffs (and I can now truly say I'm STUFFED and don't want to eat anything that's not a vegetable or meat for a long, long time) and playing games. That's when the *real* fun began as a parent because a certain someone whose name rhymes with "Mamantha" wasn't about to let the party continue on without her. At least, that's what the screeches from your room led us to believe.

So...I got you out of the crib and let you "play" Apples to Apples with the rest of the crowd.



Despite three separate attempts to put you down to bed, your little seven month self managed to stay awake until midnight:





...and yes, those two pictures really were taken minutes apart. The first one was taken in the last minutes of 2009, and the last picture was taken in the first five minutes of 2010. If you're wondering what you were doing when the clock struck midnight, well, here it is:


(you were getting a kiss from your mommy & daddy).

So, my darling, it's the wee small hours of 2010, you've finally accepted that you need some sleep, and I think I should follow your cue and go to sleep, as well.

Happy 2010, darling!

All my love and more,
your mommy

7 Months: The Christmas Edition

Dear Sammie Joy,

It's Christmas Eve, and as I write this, sugarplums are NOT dancing above your head. I'm afraid, dear girl, that the four Christmas celebrations that we've had in this past week are four events too many. You're tuckered out and over stimulated and sleep is not coming easy to you. I'm not feeling too terribly sorry for you, though, because at seven months old, you've managed to rake in more gifts than most babies in the Fresno-Clovis area. Unfortunately, though, at seven months you could care less about the gifts; tissue paper is much more interesting than any gift you've received.

Our first Christmas celebration was with daddy's side of the family on Saturday. You were a hit, and quite happy most of the day (as long as you were snug in my arms). You got an adorable knit scarf and hat (from Auntie Bethany), a toy laptop, and some very adorable clothes. We *tried* to get some pictures of you and your cousin Keston, but seeing as how he's on the move and crawling now, that proved to be rather difficult.

I give myself 3/4 of a point for getting you guys in the same picture frame, but subtract 1/2 a point because no smiles are to be seen.




The second Christmas celebration was with my side of the family on Sunday. Santa paid a visit to this party, and much to my surprise, you actually were rather intrigued by the guy in the red suit...and didn't scream one bit, and if I look really closely, I think I see you smile. YAY!! Score one for pictures I was really hoping to get and can actually put in your scrapbook!





Ok, I'll give myself an extra credit point because those pictures were *uber* cute.

Did I mention that we continued the holiday tradition by posing the "new" generation of Willises under the tree? We put you all in boxes because you're this year's "gifts." Sadly, I didn't score with this picture, as getting six kids under the age of four (and four of those kids under the age of one) to look in one direction is like trying to catch a picture of Santa's sleigh in mid-air: downright impossible.

Well, at least I scored a half a point for getting most of you kids to look in the same direction.



The third Christmas celebration was at Nonni & Poppa's house with Auntie Erin, Uncle Grant & Ben. It was a breakfast pajama party, so you and I got the opportunity to show off our matching purple owl pajamas.

I got a picture of us in our PJ's, but none of you opening gifts. Score: zero points.



The fourth Christmas celebration was today at our house. We had Grandma Max, Grandpa Mike, Auntie Beth & Uncle Tom over, along with Grandpa & Grandma Pat. I'm fairly certain that the three wise men themselves must've snuck in their gifts, because surely your grandparents and Auntie Beth did not give you EVERYTHING under the sun the way they did today. Seriously--you've got clothes for the next millenium and enough toys to last for decades (at least, if you're still playing with musical balls when you're 30). I got quite a few good pictures tonight, so I'm giving myself a point for effort.










...and that brings us to tonight. I'm hesitant to say that you're sleeping, but it has been awfully quiet since I started typing this. At seven months old (did I mention that you're seven months old?), you could care less about the events of tomorrow, but I am beyond stoked. I've looked forward to watching Christmas unfold through a child's eyes for years while we were waiting to be parents, and now that it's here I'm just beside myself with excitement and anticipation.

But, seeing as how you're seven months old, you probably would be just as content to sit on the floor and drink your bottle. Hmph. Well, I'm still trying to start traditions, nonetheless.

We baked cupcakes for Jesus' birthday



...and left cookies for Santa and carrots for the reindeer.


...Santa even called from the North Pole to ask you what you wanted for Christmas (seriously--it's difficult to get the big guy on the phone on Christmas Eve, but you're so special we managed to call in a few favors). I didn't get any pictures of it, but I did get it on video, so I only scored half a point.

Tonight, on the eve of your first Christmas, your birthmom is really heavy on my heart. I'm so grateful to her for the gift that she gave us this past spring that I can't help but think about her nearly every day. I know that she's happy that you're my daughter (we talked on the phone a month or so ago and she said more than once that she's so glad she picked us to be your parents). I also know, though, that she thinks about you often and wonders what you're doing.

Thank you, Krystal, for giving us the gift of Samantha Joy. Thank you, Jesus, for giving us the gift of parenthood. You, Sammie, are everything we could have asked for, and so so much more.


Merry Christmas, Samantha!

Loving you to the North Pole and back,

your mommy

PS Took you to the doctor a few days ago. You grew another inch in the past month, so you're now 26.5 inches and 18 pounds 6 ounces. Still-the-greatest-pediatrician-in-the-world was stoked at your growth progress and has us feeding you *real* food now. This has led to some fun events--but I'll have to write about that another time!