Happy Thanksgiving!

Happy Thanksgiving to you!  I am grateful for so many things today.  Jim and I were talking about everything we are thankful for the other night and of course we mentioned the obvious things, like each other and  our health and our sweet baby girl, and once we listed all the really important stuff, we started thinking about the everyday items that we’re fortunate to have and/or be part of.  While it’s true that love is all you really need, there are a few objects that make my life easier and therefore, I am grateful for.

A few of the things I am most thankful for in 2010 are (in no particular order, except the first few items):

-Jim, the most supportive, appreciate, laugh-inducing husband a girl can ask for

-Molly, our sweet, healthy, feisty daughter

-Allie, our crazy, protective lab

-Mom and Dad, who are forever encouraging and helpful

-my sisters and their supportive husbands, who “get” what it means to be a Hubbard girl

-my nephews and neice

-my grandparents

-Jim’s parents/Molly’s Grandma and Grandpa

-Jim’s Uncle Steve, Aunt Dede, Granny, Papa, and brothers/sisters-in-law Geoff and LIndsay and Jon and Alisha

-our dear friends, who are too many name

-jobs

-our warm, comfortable home

-cool neighbors

-running partners

-the ability to run

-Starbucks

-red wine

-hoodie sweatshirts and cardigan sweaters

-my hairstylist and straightening iron

-Molly’s teachers and our helpful babysitter

-my Blackberry

-Sweet tea

-Swings

-Hawthorne’s Pizza

and finally, but certainly not least

-baby laughs.  They make everything right with the world.

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Sir, do YOU have a 15-month old?

This afternoon, when I got home after picking Molly up from school, we were standing in the driveway talking to the neighbors.  Molly was being super-sweet, hanging out on my hip and resting her head on my shoulder.  After a few minutes, she saw the house key in my hand and started playing with it.  I realized she was pressing the buttons on the key fob that goes with our alarm system and I told her I needed the keys back.  I jokingly said to my neighbors, “The alarm is probably going off now!”

Fast forward three minutes.  We’re in the house, the alarm is NOT going off, and I’m getting Molly ready for her nap.  I immediately forgot about the key incident.

I was coming out of Molly’s room, having just put her down for her nap, and there’s a loud banging at the door and a police officer busts open the door with a huge, heavy flashlight in his hand.  “Police!” he yells.

I pretty much peed in my pants at that point.  He walks right in, starts looking around the house and asks who I am.  I tell him my name and state that I live here.  He gives me a once-over and asks if I’m ok.  I say, tentatively, “Yes.”  He then tells me that the panic alarm was pressed and I sort of laugh…”My daughter was just playing with my key fob and I was worried she would set off the alarm.  I guess she did!”

The police officer, on the other hand, was not laughing and proceeded to lecture me about how security alarms are not toys and I should not let my toddler play with the key fob.  Although I realize this, I also wonder how calculated Molly’s pressing of the buttons was.  I mean, really, it’s not like I said, “Here, honey, play with the key fob and press these two buttons AT THE SAME TIME.  It’ll be funny to see what happens!”

I wanted to ask him, “Do you have a toddler?  Have you ever tried to squeak out 30 more seconds of a conversation by shoving the nearest shiny object in her hands?  It was just a key; it didn’t occur to me that she would call 911 for us!”  But I didn’t.  I was polite and said, “Yes, sir, I’m terribly sorry for the inconvenience but I do appreciate your speedy response.”

Oh, Molly, I sure hope today wasn’t an indication of any future run-ins with law enforcement.

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Photography is exhausting, and quite possibly my favorite moment as a mom

Both of my sisters are children’s photographers, and they either have the patience of saints or they’re totally holding out on me.  How do I know this?  Because I *cannot* take a picture of a constantly moving toddler.  I mean, seriously?

We even bought a fancy new camera when Peaches was born, anticipating that we would need a quicker piece of technology than our archaic point and shoot.  However, I am now convinced they don’t make cameras that are quick enough to take pictures of Molly.  The girl has the quickest smile and shortest attention span of any toddler ever to have her picture taken.  I try to take pictures some mornings of Molly before school and I usually end up with the back of her head or a serious blur as she moves at lightning speed towards the camera.  Last weekend, we tried to take some pictures for our Christmas card (I can’t not send my own photo cards after we make really pretty ones for other people, right?!) and out of the 300 pictures, there are maybe two that I would consider using.  If we can’t get any other good ones in the next week or so.

Experts say to take a child’s picture in the morning or right after nap, or whenever your child is happiest.  Well, at our house, the camera is the fastest way to make sure Molly is UNhappy, regardless of whether she just woke up, ate or saw her Dad’s car pull in the driveway.

Just for fun, here are some outtakes from our Christmas card photo session:

BUT, I’ll take 299 of those pictures.  Heck, I’ll even take 999 of those pictures if it means I get ONE like this:

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This evening, Jim, Molly and I stopped for a quick dinner on our way home from paying a visit to Beverly, Benjamin and Addison.  Molly was super-sweet (as always) at dinner and when it was time to leave the restaurant, I got her out of the highchair and Jim grabbed her hand to walk her to the sidewalk.  As I was giving the table one last glance, I looked up and saw the most perfect thing ever.  Molly was holding Jim’s hand and turned towards me with her other hand out, waiting for me.

I *love* being her mother.  Just when I think this motherhood gig can’t get any better, she does something so simple and sweet – like waiting to hold my hand – that makes me want to stop doing everything else and just gobble her up.

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