Super Bloggers

I love reading a really good blog. Some people can create such a good story, such a window into their lives, that it's amazing. I wish I were one of those people, but I'm not. I've never been one to write in journals, have penpals, or create great correspondence. I can turn a good phrase if I really put my mind to it, but I don't have the blogging gift. There's definitely an art to it. The best bloggers put something in regularly--every day or two--even if it's just a few pithy sentences or a photo with a cute caption. I, on the other hand, churn out irregular ramblings. Oh well. If you're reading this, hopefully you have a few other great blogs to turn to after you read this one.

Well, enough lamentation. What's been going on? Little Lydia is a champion walker now. I have some pictures of her doing some high steppin' struttin' around our living room. Such a little cutie! Of course I worry constantly that her little head will take a beating, but fortunately babies have been created with short legs and heavy little butts, so she almost always lands butt-first. She makes me laugh so hard sometimes. She loves to kiss her baby--a kiss is holding baby close, then saying "mmmmmm". She's also taken to saying "MMMMMM" while eating, which is adorable. I videotaped her for several minutes yesterday just hoping I'd get a loud "MMMMM" on camera. Success! Her words include Mama, Dada, duck, dog, cat, and now ball. I recently hung up several pictures of our wedding, and one of her favorite things to do is point at the pictures and say "Mama" and "Dada". A small part of me is starting to wonder if she thinks "Mama" is the word for picture, since she says "Mama" every time she sees a picture, even if I'm not in it. Hmmmmm...

Taking a walk with baby

It's not the most gentle way to hold a baby, but it keeps her close

Lydia tries out her new cart from Grandma and Grandpa.  

(You may notice that Baby's face is a little stained already.  She gets lots of love.)

Yes, I love my Baby

Watch me walk!

I spent a lot of time on Facebook this evening, looking through some posts about my hometown. It's odd...I was born and raised in Grayling, I went to high school there, my parents still live there, and it's a huge part of me, but I felt like some of the experiences described on the board were almost foreign to me. Part of me felt like I hadn't really truly lived the Grayling experience growing up, which is silly, of course. Who defines what is really living an experience? And is one path a better path just because it's different from the one you experienced? Of course not. And who knows if I'd be where I am now if I had lived life differently then. Strange thoughts. I think probably the defining theme in my relationship with Grayling is that I am of Grayling but always have felt that I am not a part of it. I always felt like an outsider, even when I had known nothing else. How strange is that?

And that concludes a very, very strange blog. I won't edit it. This is pure free-form.