I'm going to post a couple different things about our Labor Day weekend in Mountain Home, so just get ready ...
I think my mom might be the president of the Mia Jacobs Fan Club. Well, at least co-president along with the other grandparents. This weekend she spent most of her time doting on Mia, who played coy for a while before giving in to the grandma love. They chatted, played, cuddled and spent lots of time admiring one another.
My mom explains to Mia why the Chicago Cubs aren't that great this year. And every year.
Mia gets hugs because of her Packers shirt.
My mom claps Mia's feet together, which Mia always finds funny.
OK, OK. I'm not trying to brag, but I'm going to brag. Look what I made!
Sometimes I can be domestic. Yes, I can. For example, last Christmas I felt morally obligating (and happy!) to make Mia a Christmas stocking, which I promptly lost amid all our travel luggage. This year I plan to actually hang it up for Christmas morning.
This year I felt compelled to make Mia a dress for her upcoming first birthday party. Of course, I had help from my mom and Aunt Debbie, but nevertheless, I picked out the material and pattern and sewed this baby up! I made it for Mia's birthday party. Hooray!
This Saturday was my 10-year high school reunion. I have to be honest: I was kind of dreading it. (I wrote about it last month.) Mostly I was terrified that everyone would leave saying, “Oh my word! That Carrie Coppernoll. Did you see how much weight she gained?”
What a stupid thing to worry about.
I saw friends I hadn’t seen since graduation. It was fantastic. People I’ve known since kindergarten grew up into lawyers, doctors, teachers, engineers, moms and dads. Funny people were still funny. Kind people were still kind. I thought for sure at least the beginning of the night would be awkward; not so. The two organizers eventually had to kick us out of the convention center. It was like last call at a bar.
I was reluctant to leave. I talked nonstop – nonstop! – for seven hours. My husband had started the car and pulled up to the front, and a friend had already buckled in in the back seat. I was still yapping. My husband eventually got out of the car and escorted me away. I’m pretty sure my mouth was still running like a motor boat. I’m so glad I went rather than give in to my instinct to shy away from such a good time because of my weight.