I have sort of ‘coasted’ on the blog lately. The end-of-year busyness and recent parenting challenges have prompted me to choose loafing instead of writing. I really do love to blog. I often say that the blog is about Avery and Romey for the sake of Avery and Romey. I love that they’ll one day be able to get a better sense of themselves but that they’ll also get a better sense of their biggest fan—me. And, as a side benefit, if you find reading the blog fun, or relatable, than double bonus. I'm glad we can connect in this way.
I have found that with each passing year it’s becoming increasingly more clear that so much in life is uncertain, and with that uncertainty I have to believe that it’s commonplace to ponder what my role will be throughout my daughters’ lives. It’s obvious that I was part of God’s plan to bring these babes into the world but will He also allow me the gift of mothering, knowing, and loving Avery and Romey until I’m eighty years old? I realize this is typical end-of-the-year thinking as we close 2009, and anticipate what 2010 may or may not hold, but, alas, it is something that's on my mind.
So, before the year is over, and since I managed to gloss over a couple big things, I thought I’d do a quick year-end wrap up. Enjoy!
Thursday, December 31, 2009
October 2009 Re-cap—Halloween—The chick flies again
It pleases me greatly to see “stuff” getting used again and again. I’ve passed a few things on to friends, and honestly LOVE it. So, when Halloween came around, I poked through the closet and found Avery’s chick costume. Luckily, it was the right size, and would fit Ro perfectly. Great, Ro’s a chick. Then the fun part: What’s Ave? A farmer? How about an egg? I know! A PRINCESS.
Well, Halloween was terribly cold so we pulled out last year’s costume and offered her an option: be a monkey, or be a princess wearing a coat? The moral of the story: both girls wore costumes that one or the other had previously worn. It worked, and Halloween was a blast (thanks in part to my glutton-for-punishment sister Lea).
Well, Halloween was terribly cold so we pulled out last year’s costume and offered her an option: be a monkey, or be a princess wearing a coat? The moral of the story: both girls wore costumes that one or the other had previously worn. It worked, and Halloween was a blast (thanks in part to my glutton-for-punishment sister Lea).
Lea and Ro chicka-boom
Cold kiddos
November 2009 Re-cap—Mexico
November was a bit of a blur. Daylight savings time always messes with us a bit, as well as increasing four-year-old drama. You know, when every phrase or happenstance is book-ended with words like forever, never, or in the whole wide world? Plus, coaching Avery on relational stuff with her friends and classmates…..UGH. I really dread the teenage stuff.
In November we also hit the circus, and Romey started showing in interest in the potty (a parenting milestone that nearly broke me with Avery—see summer posts from 2008).
MEXICO. Can you believe it? Dan and I went to Mexico, and it was AWESOME! We toasted our ten-year anniversary with a seven-day trip to San Jose del Cabo Mexico. I can’t really explain all that had to happen to make this trip a reality. I’m so glad we were able to go because it was fantastically relaxing, and fun, and relaxing, and warm, and restful, and relaxing. Little typed words don’t adequately express our gratitude toward those that made this trip possible. I know some of you are reading this so please know how grateful we are (that includes you DM, CM, LM, MB, TM, SM, RN, KN, DZ, DS, and many more).
We were extremely grateful (albeit tired from a major Romey sleep strike) on Thanksgiving, and checked that holiday off the list, and stumbled into December.
In November we also hit the circus, and Romey started showing in interest in the potty (a parenting milestone that nearly broke me with Avery—see summer posts from 2008).
MEXICO. Can you believe it? Dan and I went to Mexico, and it was AWESOME! We toasted our ten-year anniversary with a seven-day trip to San Jose del Cabo Mexico. I can’t really explain all that had to happen to make this trip a reality. I’m so glad we were able to go because it was fantastically relaxing, and fun, and relaxing, and warm, and restful, and relaxing. Little typed words don’t adequately express our gratitude toward those that made this trip possible. I know some of you are reading this so please know how grateful we are (that includes you DM, CM, LM, MB, TM, SM, RN, KN, DZ, DS, and many more).
We were extremely grateful (albeit tired from a major Romey sleep strike) on Thanksgiving, and checked that holiday off the list, and stumbled into December.
Enjoying a Cuban cigar
Amazing beach
Dan and me at the beach
A little slice of heaven
Corona boy
December 2009 Re-Cap—Enigma, Tornado, Buttons, and Hells Angels
December. Glad it happened; even more glad that it’s over. Okay, I’ll admit it. I’m a bit of a scrooge. The ‘stuff’ of Christmas and the consumerism of it all really wear me thin. It takes a major effort to dig up my Christmas spirit, oh, but I get ahead of myself. (I do have a new Christmas tradition I’d love to share with you. More on this later).
We started the month with Avery’s first parent-teacher conference. It went well. Some things are going really well for Avery at school, and some things aren’t going so well (Ave, we'll talk about this someday if you really want to know. In the meantime, it would be helpful if you wouldn’t scream at the top of your lungs when you flush the school’s potty. Thanks.). In short, Avery’s teacher feels that she is an enigma, prompting me to ask: is there a school for enigmas?
And then the tornado blew through, and Romey turned two. Wow, she’s a doosy. A lot of fun, but boy can that kid scream!
Happy 2nd Birthday Romey!
And then one day Avery decided to stick a button up her nose, and the interchange went a little something like this:
Avery (who was up in her room for a time out): Mom, I’ve got something to tell you. I’ve got a button in my nose.
Me (looking up Avery’s nostril and not seeing anything): What? Are you telling me the truth?
Avery (getting anxious): Yeah, I’ve got a pink button up my nose.
Me (grabbing my emergency stash of gummy worms, handing it to Ave, and calling the doctor): Okay, let me call someone.
So, I called the doctor who asked if Avery was breathing normal (yes), and was she passing air through both nostrils (yes, I think so).
At this point I’m not convinced that the crazy kid really put a button up her nose, at which points she starts sneezing, and sneezing. I ask her to blow her nose really hard, and wouldn’t you know it…..THERE’S a BUTTON in her NOSE! A pink button!
I’m crying and laughing and trying to pry the button out of her nose. I finally tweeze it out and am so taken aback by what has just occurred that I collapsed on the floor crying, and Avery and Romey join in, and it’s just a big hot mess. No one ever warned me about this kind of stuff. And here’s the documentation, and Avery you OWE me BIG for this one.
And speaking of owing us big, we’ve got some fantastic footage from Avery’s Christmas program. She was an angel, and opted to do the opposite of what she was supposed to—laying on the floor, funny faces….we were *proud*.
And another trip to Nebraska went bust due to the out-of-this-world snow accumulation, and nasty winter weather we received. We had a quiet Christmas this year, topped off with a pizza and a movie (and me in between--see below).
Regrettably we didn’t send out Christmas cards this year because Dan’s pesky i-Phone wouldn’t sit still or make a nice smiley face (since his phone is part of our family.....). I just kind of gave up on the idea by the time the third week of December rolled around, so figure I’ll give it my best effort come winter 2010 but don’t hold your breath….
Okay, it’s a wrap. Cheers 2009!–what an amazing year! We certainly are, without question, out-of-this-world blessed.
See you in 2010!
We started the month with Avery’s first parent-teacher conference. It went well. Some things are going really well for Avery at school, and some things aren’t going so well (Ave, we'll talk about this someday if you really want to know. In the meantime, it would be helpful if you wouldn’t scream at the top of your lungs when you flush the school’s potty. Thanks.). In short, Avery’s teacher feels that she is an enigma, prompting me to ask: is there a school for enigmas?
And then the tornado blew through, and Romey turned two. Wow, she’s a doosy. A lot of fun, but boy can that kid scream!
Happy 2nd Birthday Romey!
And then one day Avery decided to stick a button up her nose, and the interchange went a little something like this:
Avery (who was up in her room for a time out): Mom, I’ve got something to tell you. I’ve got a button in my nose.
Me (looking up Avery’s nostril and not seeing anything): What? Are you telling me the truth?
Avery (getting anxious): Yeah, I’ve got a pink button up my nose.
Me (grabbing my emergency stash of gummy worms, handing it to Ave, and calling the doctor): Okay, let me call someone.
So, I called the doctor who asked if Avery was breathing normal (yes), and was she passing air through both nostrils (yes, I think so).
At this point I’m not convinced that the crazy kid really put a button up her nose, at which points she starts sneezing, and sneezing. I ask her to blow her nose really hard, and wouldn’t you know it…..THERE’S a BUTTON in her NOSE! A pink button!
I’m crying and laughing and trying to pry the button out of her nose. I finally tweeze it out and am so taken aback by what has just occurred that I collapsed on the floor crying, and Avery and Romey join in, and it’s just a big hot mess. No one ever warned me about this kind of stuff. And here’s the documentation, and Avery you OWE me BIG for this one.
And speaking of owing us big, we’ve got some fantastic footage from Avery’s Christmas program. She was an angel, and opted to do the opposite of what she was supposed to—laying on the floor, funny faces….we were *proud*.
And another trip to Nebraska went bust due to the out-of-this-world snow accumulation, and nasty winter weather we received. We had a quiet Christmas this year, topped off with a pizza and a movie (and me in between--see below).
Regrettably we didn’t send out Christmas cards this year because Dan’s pesky i-Phone wouldn’t sit still or make a nice smiley face (since his phone is part of our family.....). I just kind of gave up on the idea by the time the third week of December rolled around, so figure I’ll give it my best effort come winter 2010 but don’t hold your breath….
Okay, it’s a wrap. Cheers 2009!–what an amazing year! We certainly are, without question, out-of-this-world blessed.
See you in 2010!
Gorgeous Romey
Avery and Romey by the Christmas tree
Cutie pie
Snow bunny sporting her new Hanna gear!
Tornado
Dear Romey,
Twenty-five days ago you turned two. As I’ve indicated in previous blog posts, I’ve felt the ominous two-year-old stuff approaching for months, sort of like a scary storm moving in on the horizon—the kind where you want to run into the basement and hide, but then you realize that there is no basement, not even a house! Instead you have to stand in the rain, and plant your feet firmly on the ground, and take the pelting rain, hail, and sleet LIKE A MAN.
Allegory aside, someone must have read my blog post to you; you know, the one where I laid down a mighty challenge for you to “up your game.” You have not only managed to “up your game” but you’ve surpassed my (and your father’s) expectations and have become a high-knee-foot-stomping-screaming-roaring-arms-crossing-irrational-tantrum-throwing-TORNADO. You, my dear, are a force to be reckoned with, and if you weren’t my second child, I’d be taking this behavioral stuff personally. Instead, I’m chalking up this behavioral shift to a natural developmental phase called two-year-old negativism (mixed with a side of passion, temper, and frustration). So, that, Romey, is the reason why I’m twenty-five days late with my birthday wish to you. I have been busy going toe-to-toe with you, and when not so engaged I’ve been recovering.
And, of course, there’s another side to you as well. You are unabashedly sweet, smiley, friendly, and happy-go-lucky. You are also mischievous and sneaky, and fiercely independent.
Your perfect day includes anything Elmo, or Yo Gabba Gabba. You love juice (“joo”), candy, cookies, and anything Avery is eating. You are fearless, and love to leap and be caught. You absolutely love being read to, and piles, and piles of books are often an indication of where we’ve planted for the day. You love to cuddle, and are still a hopeless mama’s girl. You love your pacifier or “Bobby” (Daddy calls it ‘Robert’) and your purple blanket. You don’t know this yet but YOUR New Year’s resolution is to give up your “Bobby.”
You love to imitate frogs and puppies, and get a real thrill out of playing with animals. And, your little vocabulary continues to grow—mama/dada has recently been upgraded to mommy/daddy, you are combining words, and overall just understanding more and communicating more clearly. Your favorite words are ‘mine,’ and ‘no.’
Your appearance still, at times, takes me by surprise. You have gorgeous deep brown eyes that look just like your Great-Grandpa Hofmeyer’s. You are unexpectedly blonde, blonde, blonde, and have a killer smile. I would say that the Hofmeyer DNA runs strong with you (even beyond your appearance).
Romey, your dynamic little persona continues to amaze us. You are a tremendously fun and spicy addition to our family. And, although I sometimes linger outside the van, where the screaming is slightly muffled, and I’m silently (or audibly) missing my “old life,” I hope you know that you are sincerely loved and I feel privileged to have you.
Happy belated second birthday little Ro—you are loved.
Love,
Mom
Thursday, December 17, 2009
Decade
On December 17, 1999 Dan and I tied the knot. I was 22, and a new college graduate, and Dan was 21, and had just finished his last college final one-day prior to our wedding nuptials. It was a crazy time, and we were excited to embark on our *grand* post-college adventure together.
We left college with the arrogant notion that the world would be waiting for us—we had shiny new college degrees and “Boy, wouldn’t some company be lucky to have us!” Naturally what ensued was quite different—temp jobs, selling cell phones, secretarial work, rental properties, hand-me-down furniture, folding chairs, Hamburger Helper.......
I fondly reflect on our beginnings because in some respects it was an easier time. We hadn’t acquired much, weren’t responsible for much, weren’t too jaded, were relatively trusting of others, and hadn’t dealt with much adversity. Through ten years (plus) we have had some great triumphs and have had some great disappointments; taken some risks; made some good decisions and some bad ones; loved well and loved terribly; shown up and checked out; been lucky and un-lucky; and mostly we’ve just been us—flawed, still learning, making amends, laughing a lot, and attempting to extend undeserved grace.
There’s so much about Dan that I love but mostly I’m so grateful for his friendship. Dan is my best friend and he is the funniest and most fun person that I know; he’s loyal; he’s real; he’s seeking God; and he’s a tremendous father. There’s no one else that I’d rather be “in this” with than Dan. Thank you, Dan—I sincerely love doing life with you. Really, I do. I really, really do.
We left college with the arrogant notion that the world would be waiting for us—we had shiny new college degrees and “Boy, wouldn’t some company be lucky to have us!” Naturally what ensued was quite different—temp jobs, selling cell phones, secretarial work, rental properties, hand-me-down furniture, folding chairs, Hamburger Helper.......
I fondly reflect on our beginnings because in some respects it was an easier time. We hadn’t acquired much, weren’t responsible for much, weren’t too jaded, were relatively trusting of others, and hadn’t dealt with much adversity. Through ten years (plus) we have had some great triumphs and have had some great disappointments; taken some risks; made some good decisions and some bad ones; loved well and loved terribly; shown up and checked out; been lucky and un-lucky; and mostly we’ve just been us—flawed, still learning, making amends, laughing a lot, and attempting to extend undeserved grace.
There’s so much about Dan that I love but mostly I’m so grateful for his friendship. Dan is my best friend and he is the funniest and most fun person that I know; he’s loyal; he’s real; he’s seeking God; and he’s a tremendous father. There’s no one else that I’d rather be “in this” with than Dan. Thank you, Dan—I sincerely love doing life with you. Really, I do. I really, really do.
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