Made in Richmond

Ross and I always exchange presents on Christmas Eve Eve, just because it’s our last chance to spend time alone before things get crazy with the holidays.

This is what he gave me this year. He sure done good.

He takes counting very seriously. Also cheese.

JR,

I thought about stopping these letter once your turned 2, but since my enthusiasm for filling out your baby book has waned a bit, I’m sticking with these. As long as the Internet doesn’t melt or something, I think we’re safe.

You are a total boy these days. You love to tackle and chase and run. In related news, I’m exhausted. But you are so much fun and totally crack me up.

Right after you turned 2, we switched you to a new daycare. Your old class had more kids in it and apparently that caused you to kind of keep yourself and not talk much. Your new class had just 4 kids when you started (that’s gone up to about 7) and you’ve come out of you shell much more quickly. Your new teachers seem to love being around you and they say that you love circle time and helping to take care of your classroom fish, Howard.

We still get our Fridays together which is wonderful. Usually we just run errands, but I always try to do something special with you. Today we stopped by Barnes & Noble to play with the train set and join in for storytime. Two other little boys were at the train table when you got there and you did such a good job sharing with them — even though they weren’t too happy about having to share with you. It was nice to see that you didn’t let that shake you. You just rolled with it and kept being nice to them until they warmed up to you. Quite the little diplomat you are.

You LOVED storytime. Situations like that show me how good school has been for you. You sat and listened so well and even said “thank you” to the lady who read to you without me having to ask. I was very, very proud of you.

Before you (and anyone reading this) barf over all of this “OH MY BOY IS SO SWEEEEET” talk, please note that you do have your…”moments”, shall we call them? You and I definitely have some struggles at times — ones that you and your dad don’t seem to have. For example, you seem to let your dad brush your teeth with little protest, but when I try to do it, you’re not having it. Not sure what the deal is, but I’m trying to not let it get to me. You and I are both quite stubborn and your dad really isn’t, so it makes sense that some things are just easier between the two of you.

But we’re still the best of buds. I love, love, love seeing your face when I pick you up from school. Talk about an ego boost! You’re like my little shadow when we’re home, always wanting to play and hug and dance, and I just love it. Sometimes it’s hard for me to get my mind off work or all of the things that need to get done, and it’s nice to just focus on you for a while.

We’re getting ready to celebrate our third Christmas with you, but this is the first one where you kind of know what’s going on. You helped me decorate our Christmas tree, and singing Christmas carols is just about your favorite thing. We recently discovered that “O, Christmas Tree” is your favorite. We also set up a special Advent activity for you. I made little silver bell ornaments that are numbered and we hang one on your own, personal Christmas tree each day. Speaking of your tree, when I took you to Target to pick one out, we went over to the Christmas aisle and I said you pick any little tree you wanted. They had them in tons of different colors, and I was sure you’d go for a green one or maybe a white one. Your choice? Jet black. I was hesitant to buy it at first, but your dad convinced me to just roll with it. After all, you are one of a kind.

I wouldn’t trade you for a million, billion boring regular trees.

Love,
Mama

Ross and I leave work at the usual time. Before heading to JR’s daycare to pick him up for the evening, we make a quick stop for gas.

While I sit in the warm car, reading the Twitters, Ross fills up the tank.

(This is one of the best parts of being married to him — he always pumps the gas, no matter what.)

A few minutes later, he get back in the car, I slip my iPhone back into my bag, and I start the car.

Click-click-putter.

Then nothing.

I try again.

Again, nothing.

Ross hops back out to see if maybe the car isn’t starting because he didn’t twist the gas cap on tight enough (which is apparently a thing that happens?).

Encouraged by his calmness, I try the car again.

Annnnnd nothing.

It’s 5:30pm. It’s about 3 degrees outside. Our kid is stuck at daycare and our only car isn’t working. We’re at a gas station located in a parking lot of a grocery store during rush hour when most people are scrambling to pick up those last things they need for dinner. Or, in the case of this particular grocery store, driving around the parking lot like maniacs and kind of being a-holes in general. (It’s the Kroger on Lombardy and Broad, for you Richmonders.)

Without any other options, I put the car in neutral and Ross pushes it into a parking space.

We take a minute to collect ourselves. Then Ross calls his dad and I call JR’s daycare to let them know we are still coming and haven’t abandoned him, we just don’t know how we’re getting there yet (luckily they’re open until 7pm).

Because Ross’s parents are made of unicorns and magic and goodness, they drop everything to come help us.

Once they’re on their way (from the other side of town, during rush hour, mind you), I call the dealership that usually handles our repairs. Luckily I get Nice Guy Joe, as opposed to Dumb Lady Who Couldn’t Work The Phone When I Tried To Schedule Our Annual Inspection Yesterday And Hung Up On Me Twice Before I Gave Up.

See, Joe is great because I can say things like this to him:

“Hi, Joe. This is Valerie Catrow. My car won’t start and I need to get it over to you. I have AAA, but I’ve actually never had a car break down before and I don’t know what I’m supposed to do. So what’s next?”

And because he’s Nice Guy Joe, he chuckles and then tells me what to do.

So I call AAA and arrange for a tow truck to come get the car and take it to the dealership.

(Speaking of, did you know that AAA calls you like every 5 minutes when you’re waiting for a tow truck to give you an ETA? Technology is the tops.)

Just as Ross’s parents show up (in two cars so we could have one to borrow should the repairs take a while, God bless them forever and ever amen), the AAA guy pulls into the parking lot. Ross and his dad stay to deal with the car while his mom and I hightail it over to JR’s daycare to pick him.

When we get to JR’s classroom room, he’s eating yogurt and hanging out with the evening teacher (it is so late his regular teacher has left for the day — talk about mother’s guilt). Apparently being the only kid in the class is SUPER FUN because he wants nothing to do with leaving, what with all the yogurt that must be eaten.

By the time we get home, I have a few messages from friends who have seen some exasperated comments I made on Twitter, offering rides or even CARS if we need them. Luckily we don’t, but it was still lovely to see.

So, how was your evening?

For some reason, I’m especially emotional these days. I’m not sad at all (or at least I’m not most of the time) — I just feel like my emotions are always *right there*.

Having access to the Internet doesn’t help matters, and I keep stumbling across things (on my own or through links posted by others) that get me choked up. So I thought I’d share them all with you! After all, who doesn’t love a good happy cry?

April and Jeremy get married

Sergeant Santa: A tribute (ok, I edited this one, but it gets me every time I read it)

In which my entire concept of God changed when they were born

It makes me so happy to see my friends with their babies. I…I can’t talk about it.

Meeting Elizabeth Edwards

There. Now you can all be complete messes like me.

*UPDATE*
No, I am not pregnant. Just a sap.

Happy 30th, love of my life.

And what happened to my baby?