February 23, 2011
Our Firecracker steals the show!
I don't know what it is, but it is all I can do but be sassy to all of the innocent onlookers as they make their many comments and questions. I can't tell you how many times Ryan and I have been quietly looked over with a quizzical eye and then asked, "So.....where does the red hair come from?" Sassy me inside, thinking, "the milkman, lady, who else would it be? But really, if it was as scandalous as you look like you hope it is then do you really think we would spill all of our beans to you, right here in the meat department in front of, you know, like, eight small sets of ears..." But I digress. Poor Ryan, never gets any credit for the bit of red hair genes he gave his daughter (they come from previous generations; he has no red on his head).
Then there are the many comments of, "Oh, she is so sweet, darling, happy, etc..." These poor souls have no idea how hard it is for her straight shooting mother to smile and bite her tongue. I ponder how I have stayed up more dark hours with her than all of my previous children, combined, and how she is learning to not swim in the dog bowl or toilet, already at ten months, or how she likes to throw good, homemade bread on the floor for the dogs or how she will protest a new food at a volume which I deem completely unacceptable for even the outdoors and how she has already broken a piece of seasoned stoneware (a cardinal sin, if you know what I mean). But I smile and say, "Thank you, of course she is a good baby" because although she is rather difficult I do know that Gad made her very good in His eyes. And, honestly, she is a blast, at times, if you can hold on to your seat belt.
Last Sunday, though, she really put on a show. Ryan and I have been attending a Sunday school class with the hope of meeting some more people in our new town and church. As a result of a number of new couples in the class, the leader decided to go around and have everyone introduce themselves. I was walking around the back of the room trying to get S to go to sleep as it was past her morning nap time, but, of course, she thought it was social hour. When it was our turn Ryan spoke a bit and passed off to me. As it was my turn to talk I wanted S to be still for a moment so I could concentrate. Thus, I turned her out toward the class and put her upright. I began to talk but everyone was very distracted. I finally glance down toward S's face where she is doing one of her, "I'm going to see it I can touch my bellybutton with my tongue faces" I try to finish up with my sentence. Then she begins to wave, everyone begins to ask her age, name, etc. Then the room falls apart after she sports one of these:
She hasn't spit up anything for at least two months. Apparently she was saving up for just the perfect moment. I suppose no one will forget us, or at least the very special red haired girl that will probably be in the nursery next week.