Love and Geese

What kind of mom lets the baby nap on an giant elephant?  This kind of mom!  Because when you love your child (and she absolutely will not nap in the crib...but she'll sleep in the crib at night) you want her to be comfortable.  Having taken a nap with the elephant as a pillow, I'm not surprised she slept well.  I was trying to sit back and relax, but I couldn't, because I checked every four seconds to make sure she wasn't sliding down into elephant fluff. 

(Bad photo... Scared to use any light and wake her!)

Love means sharing.  We have some wonderful people in our lives who have provided meals for us since Ellie's birth, and we took Ellie to visit friends for the first time this weekend.  The family we visited includes an almost-two-year-old son who loves Ellie and is practicing creative renditions of her name.  He is already demonstrating that he will care for her throughout their lives.  Because he's learning to share, he kindly walked up to Ellie sleeping in her baby carrier and tried to feed her a tortilla chip.  He was a little surprised that she didn't seem hungry.

Ellie is rocking a new sundress today.  The dress was made by my friend Jessica, who I haven't seen in years.  She also made a sweater and appliqued a onesie.  The sweater is not the sweater in the photo, but it's still too big.  Jess is an amazing person and super crafty - one of those women who makes amazingly beautiful and creative stuff that she should be selling for lots and lots of money.  I was hoping to find a fun old photo to post, but alas, my friendship with Jess is from the pre-digital camera age.

(Serious talent.  And a serious mohawk.)

Love is protecting your child from an angry goose.  Ellie and I hung out at a park near a lake while Matt ran.  I had packed a plum as a snack.  As I sat calmly eating my plum, I was surrounded by geese all attempting to share my plum.  I threw the plum, and the geese went nuts, fighting over the remains.  Apparently, they thought I was just a plum providing machine, because they came back for more.  I hate very strongly dislike geese.  I blame my mom's stories about the geese at her childhood home, and falling in goose poop on my first long bike ride.  My husband tried to defuse me by claiming the green goose poop was really mud...jerk.  When it comes to my darling baby, I will fight geese.  But I'm a lover, not a fighter, so I grabbed that stroller and got Ellie out of harm's way.  My camera battery was dead, but before I realized that the geese wanted to eat my plum, my baby, me, and possibly the stroller, I took a phone picture.

(Don't act like he's not scary.)

Love is not allowing your child to sport the "baby comb-over."  Ellie's hair, when "tamed," looks somewhat like 50 year old balding man hair.  Not my baby!  Since the mane cannot be tamed, we decided to go big or go home.  Ellie rocks a mohawk, and will until her hair is long enough to put in a ponytail.  My darling husband, however, is forbidden from spiking the mohawk with any kind of hair product or glue.  I have standards, but the baby hair rules are causing a little bit of marital tension.

(Mohawk in full force.)

Love is when your husband knows you're exhausted, and takes Ellie to Starbucks for an hour so you can read "The Girl with the Dragon Tattoo."