The Real Slim Sadie

Welcome to our family, Sadie!

Actually, at 9lbs and 7 ounces, not so slim. Sarah Vassar Burgess arrived a little earlier than we expected on March 14, 2007. She is beautiful. To us, she looks like Amelia with dark hair, though we're not completely sure yet where that characteristic came from. We are overjoyed to finally have a new baby to fill up the crib and keep us awake at night again (it's not so bad).

One of the most precious moments of my life was the first time I saw Amelia after Sadie was born. We live an hour away from the hospital, so I hadn't seen her in two days and missed her terribly. Daddy sent her into the hospital room by herself while he stood outside the door. In her arms was a bouquet of flowers. Her little face lit up when she saw me and of course, I was in tears. From the door, I heard daddy say, "Give mommy the flowers..." At that, Amelia grabbed an enormous handful of petals from the bouquet and placed them in my hand. And her first thoughts on her new little sister: "I like Sadie. I want to hold Sadie." We are blessed.

Big Girl Bed

As Dave and I prepare to welcome a new baby into our family, our first baby, Amelia, has taken the first step away from her babyhood and into (gasp) what we call the "big girl bed." One "oh-my-gosh-what's-this-parenting-thing-really-all-about" moment that remains crystal clear in my memory took place at Amelia's two month old appointment at the pediatrician's office. A little girl, about two and a half, was sitting with her mother across the aisle from us in the lobby. As I listened to the mother lamenting on her cell phone, I gathered that the little girl was in the office because she had thrown herself out of her crib and on to the hard wood floor of her bedroom and had been acting pained and drowsy ever since. I remember looking at my serene little infant in her carrier on the floor beside me and wondering if we would ever get to that stage. Maybe my child will skip that stage, I thought to myself. Wouldn't that be nice.

Amelia's timing is impeccable, really. Three weeks before her world is about to get rocked to its foundation, our mischievous little girl decided that this would be a really good week to start throwing herself out of her crib. And when I say "throw," it's not a hyperbole in any way. Dave watched her on Monday as she lifted one leg over and then flung herself with all of her might out of her little prison. That was enough for us. Within hours, we had disassembled her crib, brought out her new bedding (I was prepared, knowing this moment was at hand) and had a heart to heart with our two year old about the benefits of a sleeping THROUGH THE NIGHT in a real bona fide bed. We read her a story, sang her a song and then said good night. Forty-five minutes of screaming and a little bribery later, she finally curled up with her stuffed Elmo and doggy and fell asleep. As parents, Dave and I have not had a prouder moment.

Sweet victory!

Whistling Dixie

January and February were the most homesick months that I've had here in Alabama. And I've struggled to put my finger on exactly why that is. The cockroaches are a fading memory. We have a beautiful new home. I've even met a few people I would consider friends. Yet, I've spent the past two months racking up phone bills and feeling like a little piece of my heart was missing.

It could've been the weather. Or maybe it's because my mom was here in December. But most likely, it's because the euphoria of living in Eufaula has been replaced by the reality of living here. And the realization that we're not going home again. We're not just passing through; we live here. We have Alabama driver's licenses and Alabama tags on our cars. When we return to California for a visit, we will inevitably be introduced as "friends from Alabama," a label I'm not yet fully comfortable with.

Tornadoes and NASCAR obsession aside, Alabama is not altogether a bad place to live. People welcome you into their community and treat you like family. We've received more covered dishes and baby gifts than we know what to do with. Plus, there is a lack of pretense with most people that I find refreshing; people generally say what they mean and mean what they say. There's a lot to appreciate about this place and I'm really trying to open my heart and mind to the potential of being here a while. But I have to let go of a few things first.

I never ever considered my life in California to be glamorous in the least, but as I pull my car into the parking lot of Young's Bait and Tackle for my drink every morning on the way to school, I realize that it was a pretty cushy existence. What it really comes down to for me is learning to appreciate wherever I am, because it's likely I'll miss it when I'm no longer there. Someday, in the distant future, when I'm once again living in the big city, I'm sure I'll mourn the Bait and Tackle shop on Lakeside Drive that would order cases of Power Bars just for me; I'll shed a few tears over Howell's Paint Store that would meet me outside at my car with my order and still operates on a customer tab. And undoubtedly, the piece of my heart that is missing right now will be filled in with lots of new friends- new people to love. Maybe Alabama isn't so bad after all.