Going to My Happy Place, I Hope

Yesterday, I looked out of my front door and saw this:

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When I really should have seen this:

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Today, I looked out of my back door and saw this:

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When I really should have seen this:

Why should I be seeing beach scenes instead of snow? Simple. I am supposed to be on vacation! Unfortunately, we had to cancel....again. Yes, that's right, again.
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Our original vacation plans had us booked in southern Florida over the Christmas/New Year holiday. We had to cancel those plans due to the fact that Tony really needed to be in town to work on a project. We rescheduled for three weeks later, allowing plenty of time for project completion. As our new travel date approached, it was clear that the project was not going to be wrapped up in time for us to make it on our vacation. Called up the travel agent and canceled again.

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We are now rescheduled for a third attempt. Third time's a charm, right? I hope that we make this one, but let's just say I am not counting on it until I see the beach. Call me a pessimist if you must. I don't think that my travel agent is holding her beath either.

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Am I angry at Tony's employer. No. In this economy, with only one income in our household, I am just grateful that he has a job with a successful company. In fact, I am not all together sure that they even asked Tony to cancel his vacation plans. Twice. He just has a work ethic that is rare to find these day. He actually feels a sense of obligation to complete his work before he goes out to play. Just one of the many qualities that I love about him. Good moral compass.

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The real crux of the issue is that I NEED to be on a beach. Or at least somewhere sunny. You see, I live in the city where Seasonal Affective Disorder was invented. The clouds roll into town in October and don't leave until April. No sun. Ever. Period.

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Every day at about three in the afternoon, I am pretty much ready to go postal. In fact, if I did a little research, I bet that I would find that the first United States Postal Service employee to actually go postal lived here. It is, without a doubt the most depressing place to live in the winter. Well, Detroit may actually be worse, but we run a close second. I love the summers here but loathe the winters, plain and simple.

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I have been writing my congressman for years trying to get legislation passed to help out my fair city. I know I can't control the weather, but I have a plan to make this place more livable during the winter months. I think that they should conduct a weekly aerial spraying of Prozac over the entire city. It wouldn't be sunny but at least it would be a happier place to live. It would even create new jobs. All of those crop duster pilots who are unemployeed during the winter months would have something to do during their off season. It would be a win-win situation all around.

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So far, I haven't received a response from my congressman about my plan. I am not holding my breath either. I am packing a suitcase and getting the hell out of dodge. At least I hope. Stay

Born to Fly

Molly can described in two words: Perpetual Motion.
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That's why Little Gym classes are such a good fit for her. Each Monday she gets to go to the Little Gym and just marinate in the thing that she loves the best. Molly will climb, twirl around or jump off of anything she sees in her environment. Doesn't matter where she is. When she is at Little Gym I have the confidence that she is safe and getting professional instruction.

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And speaking of confidence, this kid has boat loads of it when it comes to movement. It just blows me away. I just know that she is going to get to high school and be that tiny little cheerleader that they propel way up in the air, as she flips and twists around. I sure hope that we have good health insurance for her a refillable prescription on Valium for me.

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Molly recently graduated form the Super Beasts class and is headed to Funny Bugs. The following pictures are from the last day of class...The big show day, where they showcase their skills:

A quick warm up with Miss Amber.

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Forward roll on the wedge.

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Press up.....

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Going into a tummy roll....

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Adjust the grip....

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And the big finish!

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Heading down the balance beam....

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The dismount...flying, of course!

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Handstand on the wall.

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Spider walk up the parallel bars.

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A yoga pose...what balance!

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Popping bubbles with her toes.

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Receiving her medal.

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A quick wave to the crowd.

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Why walk down the stairs when you can jump off the awards platform?

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Molly and a few of her classmates

Finally! The Christmas Morning Post...better late than never!

This year Molly got Christmas. She understood Santa, knew about presents, was full of excitement about decorations and lights, and was thrilled that she got to eat way more sugar than I have ever allowed. Needless to say, she thoroughly enjoyed the entire holiday season.
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One of the great things about being a parent is that you get to relive your childhood through the eyes of your children. It is funny to see how different Molly is from me as a child at Christmastime:

• Me as a child: Up at the crack of dawn (or before) on Christmas morning, dragging my parents from bed so that I could see what Santa had brought.
• Molly: Slept until 9:30 at which time we finally went into her room and woke her up so that she could see what Santa has brought.
• Me as a child: Viewed unwrapping Christmas presents as a sprint—“Let’s get these babies open and see what’s inside!”
• Molly: Viewed unwrapping presents as a marathon—“Let’s see how long I can make this last.”
• Me as a child: Had most of the candy in my stocking consumed before breakfast.
• Molly: Was content to suck on a single candy cane for most of the day.
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  At about 9:45 am, Molly did finally make it downstairs.

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She was thrilled to see what was waiting under the tree for her.

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She immediately spied her the tricycle from Grandmas and Grandpa and was content to just examine, explore and try out her new wheels for hours:
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We practically had to beg her to open more gifts. When she finally conceded, she wanted to open them while on the tricycle and play with them from the tricycle seat.
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She even tried a few stunts on her new bike:

Remember how I said that Molly view opening gifts as a marathon? I think I completed my entire marathon in a shorter amount of time than it took Molly to open her gifts. Yes, it was a 4+ hour extravaganza! Molly even needed to stop at the feed zone half way through to take on additional calories for the rest of the race.

Of course this was all done while remaining on the trike:
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We finally convinced her to take a break from her trike and open a few gifts sans wheels. She was thrilled with her new Hello Kitty CD player from Aunt Shel and family. She pretty much had mastered its operation before it was even out of the box:

She was also eager to try on items from her dress up treasure chest, given to her by the Southcott's. And by the way, high heels are the appropriate footwear to accompany Santa pajamas.

Notice how the colors of the bracelets pick up on the PJ's polka dots. And pearls? They're a classic. They go with anything, dahling!

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At the end of the marathon, it was obvious from the prize package that Molly was the winner!

But wait! There's more! Molly's victory lap...digging through the goodies in her stocking. This took another 1/2 hour. Our girl certainly has a flair for the dramatics.

Molly finally finished with Christmas morning just in time for her afternoon nap.

And when she awoke, what did she find? Round 2!! Grandmom, Uncle Jack and Aunt Karen had arrived for Christmas dinner, and they came bearing gifts! The doll house from Auntie Molly, Uncle Eli, Grandmom and Uncle Jack was every bit the hit in the evening that the tricycle was earlier in the day:

Yes, you could say that Molly, really got Christmas this year,in more ways than one!

Thank you to everyone who helped to make this a magical Christmas for little Miss Molly. It is one that she'll never forget.