Doodle

A few days ago, P and Caroline took another trip to the ranch. All she has been talking about for the last week is how much she wants to “shoot a duck and eat it for dinner”. While she didn’t actually shoot or retrieve the duck, make no bones about it, this is her duck.

When I found out that I was expecting a baby girl almost four years ago, I went home and made myself a CD that included such songs as Sweet Caroline, Isn’t She Lovely, Daddy’s Little Girl, and Thank Heaven for Little Girls. I would listen, while my pregnancy hormones took over, and just cry at the sweetness of knowing that my daughter was on her way.

After looking at these pictures, I’m thinking maybe I should have been listening to The Bellamy Brothers singing Redneck Girl.

Nobody ever said it was easy “cruising in Daddy’s pickup truck”.

Saturday night, we had some new friends over for dinner. Their little girl is in Caroline’s class and we’ve gotten together to play a few times, so I thought it would be fun to have them over.

We grilled elk burgers (of course) and had a really enjoyable meal. After dinner, the girls headed to the playroom to play.

About five minutes later, Caroline comes running out of the playroom and announces to us that her friend is “coughing”. We all run in the room just in time to see the little girl cough up a piece of candy that she was choking on. We were all relieved that everything was okay.

Later, after our friends had gone home, P and I were talking about how proud we were that Caroline knew to come and tell us what was going on. P called her into the kitchen and said “You were so smart to come and tell Mama and Daddy that E. was choking. That’s exactly what you should do anytime someone is in trouble, go tell a grownup”.

Caroline listened and when he was done talking, she sighed, “Yes, I KNOW that” with a world weariness that indicates she is so tired of these adults she lives with stating the obvious.

The other night, I was tucking Caroline into bed and I asked her if she wanted to say her prayers. She said no. I told her that God wants to hear her talk to Him and thank Him for the good things He has done in our lives.

She said, “Okay”, and then as I was walking out of her room, she said “Mama?”

“Yes, sweetie?”

“I want God to live in my heart”

“You do? That’s so good, God wants to live in your heart”

“Yes, I want Him to live in my heart so that I can have strong bones.”

I’m not sure how I managed to get milk and God confused in her mind, but I’m a little concerned that she may also think God prevents cavities.

Yesterday evening our phone rang and it was our neighbor from across the street. He was making vegetable soup and wanted to know if I had an onion he could borrow. I looked and was very impressed with myself when I realized I actually had not one, but two onions on hand. Look at me, I’m a real cook with onions in the kitchen and everything!

He said he’d be right over to get the onion. Caroline wanted to give it to him so I let her answer the door and hand him the onion. He said hello, thanked us for the onion and then in an attempt to make a little conversation, asked Caroline if she liked onions.

She answered, “Yes, but they give me the toots.”

I don’t know if I’ve mentioned it, but she’s very delicate and shy.

For as long as I can remember, I have loved to read. I will honestly read just about anything I can get my hands on. If y’all don’t believe me, let me just say that I have even been known to read articles in Bowhunter’s Magazine and learn all about how Dale done shot his first 8 point buck using some kind of fancy new broadhead.

Let me repeat. I will read anything.

Now, before I mistakenly earn a reputation as someone who yearns for knowledge, let me set the record straight that, for me, reading is relaxing. It’s a way of slowing down one part of my brain and letting another part work. And lest y’all think my brain is oh so complex, I just mean that when I’m reading something, I’m focused on whatever it is and not the millions of other things that might be going on around me.

When I was young, I read all of the Mrs. Piggle-Wiggle books over and over again. I adored Ramona Quimby, Ralph the Motorcycle Mouse, Little House on the Prairie and Soup. Then, as my reading tastes changed I adored anything by Judy Blume. I bet I read Starring Sally J. Freedman as Herself, Otherwise Known as Shelia the Great, and Are You There God, It’s me Margaret?, no less than 50 times.

One of my favorite things to do was go to Waldenbooks in the mall and pick out new books to read. I remember I always begged to get at least two or three at a time and one time I even cleaned off the shelves in my closet to make my own library.

I realize that between that admission and the fact that I just confessed yesterday that I dressed up like Sandy from Grease, that y’all might be picturing a trampy looking elementary school age librarian wannabe. And you might be right.

I’ve read everything from the latest chick lit to the classics, and for the most part, I really prefer to read fiction. The last time I read something non-fiction it was What to Expect When You’re Expecting and it scarred me for life. It was the reading equivalent of wanting to put my fingers in my ears and say “LALALALALA I CAN’T HEAR WHAT YOU’RE SAYING”.

Anyway, my point is that I adore reading.

I will never forget that the day after P and I got married, we boarded a three hour flight headed to Miami and then the Bahamas. We were sitting in first class (because we played the honeymoon card) and as the plane took off, I pulled out the first of three books I had packed for the trip. I sat back, sipped my wine, ate my heated mixed nuts (oh yes, they heat them when you’re in first class), and started to read. Next to me, P pulled out a hunting magazine, thumbed through it for about five minutes, put it up, looked at me and said “what next?”.

It was at that moment that I realized I had married a non-reader. Don’t get me wrong, he can read if he can sit still long enough to read, it’s just not an activity he prefers. The only books I’ve ever really seen him read are by this Capstick guy who writes about hunting in Africa and uses sentences like a leopard leaving someone with “a bloody, red toupee”. And how can anyone resist that?

For the most part, P sticks to reading hunting magazines and of course, his hardcover edition of the Cabela’s catalog.

So, seeing that I already have one family member who doesn’t hold reading in the esteem he should, I have worked hard to instill a love of books and reading in Caroline. From the time she was born, I would read at least one book to her every night and now that she’s older, she loves to go to the library and pick new books to read. Some of my favorite times are when she’s sitting in my lap as we read a book together before bedtime (and not just because she’s going to bed).

Last night, I had to attend a dinner for the “bank” and so I got her fed, bathed and in jammies, but P had to put her to bed. I got home and he said everything had gone really well.

Tonight, we’re sitting in the living room after bathtime and she looks at me and asks, “Mama, do you have to go to work tonight?” and I told her, “Nope, Mama’s staying home.”

She looked at me in all seriousness and said, “I’m so glad because Daddy doesn’t read very good.”

She’s obviously never heard him read the Cabela’s catalog.

I had imagined that today I would write a post reflecting on my deep thoughts regarding the end of 2006 and the beginning of 2007. I would detail my goals, plans and hopes, but honestly…I’m just not feeling very reflective today. Maybe next week once my outdoor Christmas decorations finally join my indoor Christmas decorations in the attic, I’ll feel a little more coherent and be able to share something beautifully and succinctly (and really, isn’t that a goal in and of itself?)

So, instead of a deep, meaningful post, y’all are going to hear about our big New Year’s Eve at the ranch. And I’m sure none of y’all imagined that your 2007 would be off to such a wonderful start!

Caroline and I headed south about 9:00 yesterday morning and arrived at the ranch around 10:30. P came to meet us at the gate on a 4 wheeler and she insisted that she get out of the car and ride with Daddy. I didn’t see her again for about 3 hours.

Apparently they rode all over the ranch and she has never had so much fun in her life. It incorporated everything she loves…speed, adrenaline rushes, and getting completely muddy. Which aren’t those things every girl’s dream?

At some point, they finally made it back to the house and Caroline continued to run all over the place. She was thrilled to have 60 adults who all wanted to play with her, chase her and throw her up in the air. As I mentioned, none of them have kids so it’s a complete novelty to them to have her around.

P decided he wanted to go hunting and so I had the brilliant idea that Caroline and I should also go sit in a deer blind. After all, she had been talking the whole time about hunting and wanting to see deer. So in one of the great ironies of all time, I took my daughter for her first “hunt” in a deer blind.

We drove the four wheeler over to the blind while singing “Jingle Bells” at the top of our lungs (Caroline’s choice) and since for me hunting is all about convenience, I parked it all of about four feet from the blind. We climbed up into the blind and in my mind I was imagining a fun mother daughter experience involving looking at beautiful deer while eating animal crackers and watching the sun set over South Texas. You know, the stuff memories are made of.

Here’s what happened. We got up in the blind and played musical chairs for about ten minutes which involved much loudness and banging around. Then, we had to see how the door of the blind opened and managed to open it just as a huge gust of wind caused it to slam into the railing creating yet another loud noise. And in case y’all don’t know, loud banging noises are not conducive to seeing deer.

I have actually proved this theory because back when I used to go hunting and P would put me in a blind by myself, I would watch the deer for awhile and then start making noise to see how loud I could get before they went away. You do what you’ve got to do to pass the time in a deer blind.

I digress.

Anyway, in between all the banging noises and the loud talking, I notice two things. The first is that I can see deer skirting the perimeter of the field but staying well within the tree cover because we were broadcasting our presence to anyone within a 15 mile radius. The second thing I notice is that there is an odor coming from my daughter’s bottom. So I ask, “did you poop?” and she answers, “yes, I did”.

I wasn’t sure that I was going to tell this part of the story, but I will serve a greater good and provide a public service by letting y’all know what to do in case you find yourselves in a deer blind, 15 feet off the ground with a child with poopy pants. Consider it a little New Year’s treat.

I became much like MacGyver with my incredible skill and ingenuity. I tore off part of the bag that the animal crackers were in, used it to pick the poop (which was thankfully solid and I know that’s too much information but it’s pertinent to the story) out of her underwear and threw the poop out of the window of the blind.

Oh yes I did.

Needless to say that between the noise and the flying human excrement, we had created a less than ideal hunting situation and did not see one single deer.

We headed back to the house on our four wheeler, waited for P to get back from his hunt, packed up our stuff and headed home.

Caroline was asleep before we even hit the highway.

And we all were home in our beds by 10:30 last night. That’s the stuff memories are made of.

Happy 2007!

*Please note that this is a play on the name of the latest James Bond movie because I tried desperately to come up with something that would reflect the year now being “007” and sadly, it’s the best I could do.