Co-pilot

I know that I am a very lucky person. I probably don't acknowledge it enough, or reflect on it as often as I should. But, when push comes to shove, I know deep down how fortunate I am.

For starters, I have the man pictured to the right here. I have been fortunate to have him for over a decade. First as friends, then as best friends, then as so much more (well, it wasn't quite as simple as that, but the how isn't so important.) We will have been married eight years this September. Eight years. It hardly seems possible that he's been putting up with my idiosyncrasies for that long (well, longer...)

He is my best friend. He knows me better than anyone, and can read me better than I can read myself sometimes. He seems to know when something is bothering me before I know myself.

He is goofy, playful, the yin to my yang with Q at times. Daddy is crazy, wild, adventurous. Mommy will read you books and help you sweep. But together we fit well, and are raising an amazing little girl.

I am guilty though, guilty of not letting him know how much he is appreciated. Guilty of taking him for granted, of thinking that after this long he just knows that I love him, that I need him, that I can't imagine my life without him. Guilty of forgetting that like me, he needs to hear those things and be reminded of them from time to time.

For that I'm sorry Luke. I love you, with all my heart, and I appreciate all you do. From the small (like taking out the garbage) to the big (like providing us with our beautiful home). It doesn't go unnoticed. I may forget to mention it, but I am always thinking about it, about just how lucky I am.

Thank you for being my co-pilot.

The World According to Gabba

We are a Yo Gabba Gabba family. Some people hate that show, some people are terrified of it, but we have embraced it. In fact, I find myself getting excited when I see a new episode will air, perhaps more excited than I should be.

For Q's birthday (and for mine), we went to see Yo Gabba Gabba Live. She wears her YGG t-shirt any time it is clean (and sometime when it's not). And when all else fails, we can pull up an episode from the DVR and all is right with the world.

This also means that several aspects of Gabbaland have floated into our real world. It's something not everyone would understand, but fellow parents of "Gabbaheads" know.

-Clean up time is not possible without singing "clean it up, clean it up, pick up the trash now..."

-We have many dancey dance times each day- our latest favorite is the "March" and "Crazy Daisy"

-Muno, Foofa, Toodee, Brobee and Plex are normal words in our vocabulary.

-We often discuss the party in our tummy, and which foods would like to go to said party.

-Muno, a large, red, one eyed monster should be scary, but instead is probably the most loved of the characters. I don't question this for some reason.

-Q is not only not scared of Biz Markie, but beat boxes with him, and waves and says "Bye Biz, Love you!" when "Biz's Beat of the Day" ends.

-I find it normal for my toddler to say 'break it down' and point down while saying it. In fact, I adore it.

-Plex is a buzzkill, there, I said it.

-I find myself listening to, and singing the Gabba songs on my iPod (for Q) when she is nowhere around.

We are all Gabba, and I'm ok with that, In fact, I love it. But please, oh please, just keep Dora away. Far, far away.

This face...

Q is 2. I must remind myself that these days, as I feel like I spend much more of my time being irritated, frustrated, feeling tested by such a small little person.

I know it's normal, part of the growing process, neccessary I suppose. I also know that in the grand scheme of things, her "terrible twos" are far far less than other children, and for that we are lucky.

But still, a challenging meal, a struggle at bedtime, and I doubt myself, feeling like a bad mommy. I know I'm not, but those moments get me.

And when those moments get me, I need this face. This face... this little face reminds me that I'm doing ok. That she is happy, healthy, smart, beautiful, and normal... I look at this face, and I know I can keep going... this face has my heart.