Don't Text and Drive

 

... even if it's just on a yellow giraffe.

Party Pics

As I mentioned in this week's Project Life, we went to our first birthday party (other than Kate's own) last Saturday. I took a few pics of our own, but they actually had a professional photographer there--Ashley Miller--who used to work with us and now has gone into photography full-time! If you live in the Nashville area, check her out at http://www.ashmillphotography.com/

Ashley was sweet enough to send me a couple of the shots she got of Kate, so of course I wanted to share them with you!

Eating watermelon...

(I love that she was more into the fruit than the pizza or cake!)

Of course, she got into the cake before long.

 

We had a lot of fun swimming too...

(and Kate's hot pink suit made everything else pale in comparison :0)

 

I was proud of myself that my first attempt to buy a gift for an older, "7-going-on-17" child was successful. Though it doesn't show in this picture, I heard comments of "sweet" and "cool" from the birthday girl's friends. Score!

 

And just to show off Ashley's mad skillz (sorry, still in the "cool-kid" mindset), check out this cool pic of the birthday girl taking the plunge down the slip-n-slide!

And, since I like closing blog posts with a question--how about weighing in on something Matt and I were discussing the other night. Matt and his brother had a birthday party with friends every year. My birthday, being on a holiday (July 4) was always celebrated with a family gathering--often a cookout. Only every couple years did I have a "friend" party before or after the big day.

Did you have a "friend" birthday party every year?

Country Clubbin'

Kate spent the day with Granna and Opa the other day, and they took her to swim at the country club! (I'm reminded of what Nana said years ago, the first time I went to dine at a country club with a classmate from my new private school, "ooh! you're part of the e-lite now!")

Kate had a great time swimming, eating a poolside lunch of grilled cheese and fruit, and even getting her sunscreen applied (she LOVES putting sunscreen on!) She was pooped afterwards. What a fun day!

Wordless Wednesday -- Guitar Girl

Project Life (Chill Edition)

Matt confessed to me this past week that my constant cries of "ooh! I need this pic for Project Life!" were getting a little excessive. Frankly, I agreed, and vowed to "chill out" for the following week. I chose not to stress about taking a particular photo each day, but just pulled the camera out when it felt natural to do so.

So, for this one week, I'm going to break with the daily pic-and-description custom, and bring you instead a snapshot of our week in collage form. My life at work has been crazy-busy lately, but our life at home has been full of summertime fun. Highlights included playing outside, and learning to climb up one side of the sofa, across it, and onto the end table on the other side. We also had a lot of water fun, with Kate enjoying water day at school (it was actually a Daddy-Daughter-Day, but Daddy took her in so she could enjoy this with her friends) and going to a birthday pool-party for the daughter of a woman I work with.

 

For the full list of Project Lifers who are playing by the rules, visit The Mom Creative!

Next week, I'll get back to my daily pics, but for now, consider this a free pass for you to "chill out" about something this week too!

American Girl Power

If you're a child of the late eighties, you may remember the advent of the American Girl phenomenon. I'll never forget receiving my first catalog when I was seven years old. There were only three dolls (and accompanying book series) at that time--pioneer girl Kirsten, Victorian Samantha, and WWII-era Molly. I instantly loved Samantha, and begged to receive her for my eighth birthday, which I did. A year or so later, they added a fourth girl, Felicity, from Colonial Williamsburg, and I got her for Christmas that year.

When my mother-in-law, sister-in-law, and I went to Chicago in April, we just had to go in the American Girl Store, and I was reminded again how wonderful the American Girl concept is. Expensive and highly commercialized, yes, but really awesome too. I loved history even as a child, and really learned a lot from the American Girl books. They each had (and I hope, still have) a historical appendix with real photos from the era and deeper explanations of the events and issues touched on in the book. Through the fictional characters and their stories, children learn about real, important issues in American history. From Kirsten's stories, the difficulty of immigrant assimilation and harsh life on the frontier. From Felicity (pictured below), how Patriot and Loyalist neighbors turned against one another in the Revolutionary War. From Samantha, girls learn about child labor and women's suffrage.

In the years since I grew out of dolls, they added diversity with Addy, Kaya, and Josefina--African American, Native American, and Mexican American characters, respectively, as well as Depression-era Kit Kittredge, whose movie is awesome.* I think the historical doll and book concept is fabulous. It is a great way to learn history and culture, and to give kids great examples of smart, brave, compassionate, resourceful girls.

During our visit to the American Girl store, I discovered the newest doll and was absolutely enamored. Rebecca Rubin is a Russian-Jewish immigrant living in New York in 1914. If there are four things I love, they are Russia, Judaica, New York, and the Edwardian Era. Isn't she gorgeous?! (I need to make sure Kate has seen Titanic enough by the time she is eight years old that Rebecca will be the doll she wants! j/k... sort of.)

I'm personally not as into the American Girls' "Just Like You" dolls--mainly because I just love the historical dolls so much--but the modern collection encourages the same sort of go-getter girlhood as the historical dolls, with accessories for every hobby and activity a 21st century American girl could want.  I was drawn to the doll who--like me!--broke her leg playing softball.

 

My sister-in-law was a little creeped out by the "clones"--the display of basic "Just Like You" dolls to choose from, according to your eye, hair, and skin tone.

 

Clones aside, I was just reminded during our visit how awesome and empowering American Girls are. Yes, it's fun to dress up the dolls and go nuts over the adorable accessories, but there's something valuable underneath. "This is so much better for girls than the whole princess thing!" I gushed as I blubbered over Kit's typewriter and Felicity's horse and riding habit. As I mentioned in my posts about marriage last week, I'm not into the "princess" thing for little girls (promotes this "happily ever after" notion of romance, and general superficiality) but neither do I consider myself much of a feminist (Matt calls me a "post-feminist," meaning I take my equality with men as a given). I really feel that--aside from the consumerism, which I should probably not dismiss so quickly--American Girl promotes great values for young girls, and especially with the turn that its publishing line has taken in the last couple years really encourages smart, healthy behavior in girls. Their "Smart Girl's Guide" series is really impressive. They have books on how to handle middle school, boys, parents' divorce, money, manners, body care, etc.

I ordered a book today called The Lolita Effect: The Media Sexualization of Young Girls and What We Can Do About It. I definitely worry about this sort of thing, seeing the way trends for little girls are going. I remember reading a blog post a couple years ago from a mom complaining she couldn't find normal underwear for her six-year-old because everything was low-riding, bikini-cut, or had suggestive words written on them. And this isn't even the tween stuff! I'm not the sort to flip out about the "degradation of society" or whatnot, but seriously--have you seen Miley Cyrus' new video?

Kate may or may not like to play with dolls. Whatever. But you can bet I'll be getting those historical fiction and Smart Girl's books for her, and praying she'll have the good sense to follow her own dreams and stand up for what she believes is right.

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*Ok, now for my aside about Kit Kittredge. The Kit movie will forever be wrapped up for me in the "thinking Kate was a boy" story. I took the Intelligender test on my birthday in 2008, at about 12 weeks pregnant. The test--which claims to detect gender from 10 weeks on--clearly said "boy." Mom and I were planning to go see the Kit Kittredge movie that day, but I was so depressed about not having a little girl, I couldn't bear to go see the American Girl movie, and instead moped around and totally ruined my own birthday. If you weren't reading this blog then, seriously, check out our wild ride of taking the test (there's a video!) and then seeing the ultrasound two months later. Crazy times. And for the record, Matt and I are both thrilled Kate is a girl, and I promise I will adore any sons that come along.

My Last Grandparent

My grandmother, Nana, died today, less than three months after her husband of 73 years died in March. She had been in pretty good health (especially for a 91-year-old) until about three weeks of widowhood, when various problems began. Since then, she's only spent a couple nights  in her own home, bouncing in and out of the hospital and nursing homes.

We are especially sad because we had hoped she would be able to travel and visit relatives and such now that Grandpa was gone. He had been homebound for the last couple years of his life, and she was always more social than him anyway. The only trip she got to make was down to our house for Easter, and it was extremely special.

Kate and I went up to Louisville three weeks ago to visit my parents and Nana. We took her out to lunch (at which I took the photo below) and then chased the ducks around the pond at her nursing home.

We took a four-generation photo, knowing it could be the last time we saw her.

Since returning to the hospital yet again one week ago, she has been saying that she's ready to go. She was just so sad to have lost "Dad," as she called him (Nana and Grandpa called each other "Mom" and "Dad") and she certainly didn't want to live much longer in the medically frail condition she'd so quickly developed.

So, in that way, it is good that she didn't hang on and on, struggling for years on end with various ailments. I hate that she had to die in the hospital, with an oxygen mask and feeding tube. In her final hours, she had been saying "I want to go home," which may have meant Heaven with her husband, but probably also her house. Grandpa got to die at home, returning there after a month of off-and-on stints in the hospital and nursing home. He went home, had one perfect day with his beloved, sitting and talking, eating his favorite meal of beef-and-noodles, saying he was tired, and laying down in his bed.

I'm sad to lose her. She who was so sweet and precious. Imagine Betty White, but without the profanity-for-humor's-sake. Nana was just so cute. She wrote me letters often once I'd left home for college and then Nashville, and the one that sticks out in my mind most was one in college where she said "I wish I could go to college. I would learn to play chess." I remember when I would visit their house as a child, Nana would let me have M&Ms out of her jar, but not too many--"just take one of each color," she would say. I'm sure I'll be sharing these memories and others at her funeral later this week. It feels like deja vu, picturing the funeral home and all the relatives that so recently came together for Grandpa.

I'm also sad to have lost my last grandparent. I was proud as a child to be one of the few kids with all four grandparents at Grandparents Day. They all lived close by and we all spent holidays together. Granny lived until the end of my junior year of college. Then Grandad died four years after that, a few months before Matt and my wedding. Then Grandpa and Nana four years after that. They're all gone. I feel like I've shifted generations suddenly--no longer in the younger half of four living generations, I am now in the middle, and my parents are the only "grandparents" there are. My parents have been deep in the "sandwich generation," having to do a lot for their parents for the last thirteen years or so. I don't know what Mom will do with all her time now. It's a new stage of life.

Bless you, Nana. And bless you, Grandpa. You met at a dance hall in 1936, and now you're in each other's arms again.

"He will wipe every tear from their eyes. Death will be no more; mourning and crying and pain will be no more, for the first things have passed away." --Revelation 21:4