Ode to Oma

After over 20 years, my mother and I have been living together again for the past 8 months. It's been working out much better than any of us expected, proving the old adage that daughters becoming mothers does wonders for the family dynamics. A few weeks ago we celebrated Ingrid's 70th birthday with a big dinner party, and we both had to think very hard about the last time she and I celebrated a birthday together on the actual day(s). We think it was sometime in the 1980s, before I went off to boarding school. Sometime in the 1990s we had a party on the mid-way point between our two birthdays, but basically it's been a while and now we get to enjoy each other's idiosyncrasies on a daily basis -- or at least until the CIS kicks her out, but that's a topic for another day. In the meantime, because I don't say it enough (and because I'll be very lucky to have Freya say it one day):

My Mother Rocks!

We have Liftoff!

Over the last two weeks we have been watching Freya put together the principles of locomotion. Hand out, another hand out, face plant. Hand out, one knee out, another knee out, belly flop. Then, the other day, she out them together in sequence, and boom, we have liftoff! She is off and crawling, routinely covering the 40 feet from living room to kitchen in increasingly more fluid motion. There was a hilarious pause when she transitioned from rug to hardwood floor - it reminded me of the difference between mastering downhill skis on the bunny slope and doing your first real run: technique matters! Several face plants later, she got the hang of the more slippery surface, and has been exploring the majority of the house ever since. Favorite stops include the book base with Beau's school binders, the garbage can (shiny and intriguing), and the fireplace - fun with ashes.



Suffice it to say, we are enthralled!