Happy Birthday Graham aka Daddy!  We started this blog about a month ago and couldn’t wait to surprise you for your birthday.  Now you can have fun blogging about us too!

First Adidas Track Suit!

Montana Home – a summertime haven of floating on the lake (beers arrive by paddle boat), hiking up the big hill, cookin’ up scrumptious meals, golf, daily swim sessions for Kenzie, a little too much red wine (hey, it’s vacation) and making cherished memories with Art & Rita.  This year is Alaire’s first trip and I am giddy for her!

Alaire rocked the 11 hour drive (orginally we planned an overnight stay with the Stuztman’s in Spokane but poor little Jonas woke with a fever) so we powered through.  She slept and baby chattered all along the way until about 30 miles short of Grandpa & Grandma’s where the meltdown began.  Assuming hunger triggered her angry, breath-holding cry, I worked to sooth her with a pacifier.  When we finally arrived, I raced to get her out of her car seat and discovered the REAL reason for her screams…she was sitting in a puddle of poo!  I admit, I would scream too! Rita & Graham pulled the entire car seat apart for a major wash, Art Vail unpacked our luggage heaped car and I changed the messiest diaper yet…at least this gives us good story telling material for the long drive when Alaire is 12, “We remember your first trip to Montana!”  “MOM!!!”

Sunday brought a perfect lake day.  A perfect lake day in Montana means bright blue skies with zero clouds, an occasional gentle breeze making for a smooth, clear lake and water so warm you jump in with no hesitation, surfacing with an AHHH rather than an EEEK.  Guess what?  Time for Alaire’s first swim!  I couldn’t wait to dress her in the little pink/flowery/monkey SPH swim suit, a present for the trip from Grammy & Granda Z, and hit the beach.  Did I mention I was excited for her?  With Alalire wrapped in my arms, I waded up to my waist and slowly lowered her feet in Little Bitterroot Lake – WAAHHHHHH.  “Oh! You’ll get used to it,” I say, “swimming is fun!”  I lowered her in again, up to her little behind and swished her legs around.  This time the dunk brought no cries, but instead she gave me a concerned look. “Yay!  We like swimming.”  Or, at least she’ll tolerate a couple of butt dunks to appease me.

Then we sang:
Swimming, swimming in the swimming hole
When days are hot and days are cold in the swimming hole
Breast stroked, side stroke fancy diving too
Don’t you wish you never had anything else to do

Maybe we can teach Daddy to do the hand motions next time! Graham?

I first felt your flutters the week before Thanksgiving.  I wish I had documented the first time your Dad got to feel you, sometime near Christmas.  Now, at 35 weeks you roll and kick like you’re doing some crazy 1980s Jane Fonda aerobics (like your grandma used to do…leotard, headband, tights and all).  Sometimes my stomach is 2 inches higher on one side than the other!  Feeling you is the best part of being pregnant.  I love touching my stomach – sometimes I worry about how it looks to others, constantly rubbing my huge pregnant belly – but I don’t really care.  I wonder if you can feel my abundance of love through my pats, rubs and pushes (I admit it, I like to taunt you).  One night, you moved so much, I made Graham do a web search to make sure you were moving normally and not having weird seizures. The doctor assured me at the next visit that pre-natal seizures are impossible and your movements are a sign of a healthy and active baby.  The most intriguing mystery is what part of you am I actually feeling – is it your little behind shoved up against my upper stomach—am I poking you in the butt?  A few nights ago, we’re certain we felt a little hand, it was a graceful little movement all the way on my right side.  Both Graham and I felt it at the same time, we looked at each other with surprise and giggled at the new movement.  I love it when your Dad touches my belly in hopes of feeling you move.  Okay, I’m tearing up as I write this, but you will be blessed throughout your childhood with the most amazing father a daughter could ever wish for.  If there’s one thing I’ll be proud of in raising you, it’s marrying your Dad and allowing you to see the beauty of a happy and dedicated marriage. I’m sure we’ll have our rough times, but I am absolutely certain our relationship will sustain any challenge.  I’m sure you’ll discover along the way, that a good Father (or any Father at that) was not a part of my childhood.  I tried so hard to get my Dad to love me and accept me.  Raw truth is that I just wanted to be Daddy’s little girl.  The story is a long and difficult one to tell, and someday I’ll share it with you. But getting to see your Dad raise you will be one of the most joyful and wonderful parts of my life.  Giving you one of the things I wanted most, but couldn’t have.  It makes me extra glad you’re a girl.  In the almost 6 years I’ve known your Dad, I’ve never seen him cry.  I asked him the other day how he thought he would react the moment you’re born.  He said he’d probably cry.  I’ll follow-up and let you know if he does.   Alaire (ha, now only Google Docs knows your name besides me and your Dad), you’ll have your Dad wrapped around your little finger, enjoy every moment you have in his arms and every ounce of love he gives you.   It will be a source of confidence throughout your life, steady you, inspire you and set you up to achieve absolutely anything you desire.  OF COURSE I’ll be there too – but there’s something special about a girl and her Dad.

Something tells me these matching looks could mean trouble one of these days…

Alaire’s first ride in the jungle chair (though I need to get batteries so the jungle will come to life).  Her little legs are a bit short, but a big pillow solved the problem (thanks for the idea Justin & Nicki).  I know the jungle chair will take her on many adventures and work out lots of infant energy.  I often make the sarcastic comment wondering how the pioneer women survived without all of these modern baby contraptions – but I will admit, they are fantastic parenting aids!

Anticipation builds in our household as Alaire shows delight with wide open grins just on the verge of becoming her first giggles.  Hope this makes you giggle!

This picture melts my heart.

The women of my family enjoy a long-standing tradition of Annual Girls’ Weekend.  We shop, talk, drink some wine, debate, re-hash life’s dramas and celebrate the bonds we share.  This year we traveled across the state to Prairie City, Oregon (also known fondly as BFE) where UG (Uncle Greg) and FA (Favorite Aunt) spend their retirement days.  Alaire rocked the 8 hour drive with virtually no fussing – my little traveler!  Thanks FA & UG for an incredible weekend!