flicker

Every once in a while, I get a flicker of a more grown-up version of Betsy, a version that employs a full set of teeth and doesn't have the "boo" tacked on to the end of her name. Those moments are a melding of delight and ...nostalgia? For the present? Can you have nostalgia for the present? Never mind.

• She loves animals. I'd imagine most every kid does, but Betsy seems a bit obsessive. It kind of scares me, since I'm not really interested in owning any. She particularly adores cats, which is quite unfortunate as her mother is a decided dog person.
  
  
• Mary Elizabeth Shea is not scared, a trait obviously inherited from her father. I suppose it could easily change, but for the present, you can toss that girl as high as you'd like and push that swing for all it's worth -- my baby just giggles and squeals all the more.
  
  
• She is a girl of routine. Don't mess with it.
  
  
• She's outgoing. No, really outgoing. I still don't think you're getting it: really, really, really outgoing. Deena-esque outgoing. Considering her parents, Memaw is the only possible biological source. (She asks strangers in the supermarket to pick her up. She wants the stewardesses in airplanes to hold her. She wanders off with anyone who'll take her. This, too, is scary.)
  
  
• Betsy is snuggly and lovey. She likes to cuddle, especially while you read to her, and throughout the day will randomly walks up to give you a hug. ...Kisses, however, are an entirely separate story.
  
  
• She has an insatiable appetite for language. She loves to have books read to her, and she is always anxious to increase that little vocabulary of hers. Any one or two-syllable word made up of the right consonants is fair game. (My current favorite is "Oh, Geez!")
  

Of course, the truth is, I have no real assurances of who she'll become. But I certainly enjoy who she is.

a loss for words

I am not a woman with a vocabulary. I used to be, once. But alas, fifth grade sucked it from me - or so I tell myself. So what exactly is that emotion on his face? It's love -- but there's got to be a more precise description than that, right? Do help me out.
Whatever it is, I like it.

Reasons I Love Motherhood

...Because of her. Her smiles, her words, her changes ...her naps.

Don't you think Betsy looks just like me in one of these pictures? Isn't one of them is just SCREAMING "Costantino baby" at the top of its little lungs? So piercingly you want to beg for mercy? Okay, maybe not that loudly. But still.

Guess which one.

Hint: I may have provided a hint.*




*

planning our traditions

I am not, shall we say, a seamstress. Or a sewing woman of any kind. (I originally typed "sewer woman." For the record, I'm not one of those, either.)

But Scott is a Christmas Man. He and his thousands of Christmas lights, his special Christmas flatware, his dozens of Christmas storybooks, his Sunday Christmas sing-alongs -- yes, Christmas is a big deal 'round these parts.

Which is why I gave in and decided to make Bucilla stockings: I knew it would make him happy. And I'm a sucker for a happy husband. His mom handmade each of her children (and in-laws) their own Bucilla stockings so there's plenty of syrupy, delicious sentiment in them.

Now, let me totally distract you from all that Bucilla-ness and take you somewhere else entirely: Back in the days when Scott and I were in the same ward, our YW/YM did a Christmas activity every year called Gift of the Christchild. The gist: you thought about what gift you could give Christ this year -- usually the setting of a new spiritual goal -- and gave away a sort of physical representation of said goal to another kid in the ward.

When my family moved away, we kept up the tradition for several years, and I've always wanted to make it a part of our little family's tradition, too. What with all the seasonal decor Scott puts up, I decided we should have at least one decocration that had to do with Gift of the Christchild -- something that would remind the kids it was coming up, and to be thinking.

Enter: Prettiest Bucilla Stocking Ever. Note Mary's face. Beautiful, no? Also note the angel's awesome hairdo and trumpet. I want to look just like that when I'm an angel.

So now, at our house, I guess Jesus will have his very own stocking.