Four

My intention when this post started writing itself in my head was to share my favorite Channing quotes from his third year.  Some of them were humdingers.  Take for example our trip to FL in March during which Channing expressed his concern for WM's well being.

We walked into our hotel room.  Channing took one look at the single king-size bed in the room, looked at me and asked, 'Where's Daddy going to sleep?'

On the same trip, he took to giving fair warning.  His delivery was like no other.  'Mom, I love you, but I'm going to be naughty now.'

Kids, as I'm sure you know, say the darndest things.  However, a picture still says a thousand words.  So, here's another 13,000 words, give or take a few to round out this post.

This is how the year began.  Into the green chair he went for the traditional picture, a place we'd been so many times before to mark the passing of time.  He was more pliable than not, agreeing to the pictures, to what I asked him to wear and smiling a genuine smile.

December and the magic of the holiday season was exponentially more magical.  Channing, being old enough to 'get it' was in awe of everything Christmas.  Everything.  Right down to the last shimmering light.

Swimming lessons, started in September, continued into January and right through those coldest, snowiest months.  The heat and humidity of the local pool was a welcome reprieve from what Mother Nature provided us.

Come February, we came to the realization that winter citrus was often best enjoyed as a toy rather than a food, or more often as a toy first and then food.  Orange goggles, an age appropriate alternative to beer goggles.

March allowed for a winter escape complete with the crunch of snow, something that eluded us at home.  Channing still talks of this weekend, how we arrived to thigh-deep snow in the middle of the night.  It was to him 'the best adventure in the whole wide world.'

Even in need of a spruce up, this kid's cute.  Very cute.  I'm not completely biased either.  Those brown eyes melt this mama time and time again.  He knows it too.  

Gertens beckoned in May.  We took both grandmas with us to shop for plants to spruce up the porch.  These purple petunias passed the 'do they hide me well enough to make monster faces and to jump out and rawr people' test with flying colors.

June = bubble machine.  Channing's obsession.  

The heat of July often kept us (me being VERY pregnant at this point) indoors and gave perfect reason for Chef Channing to don his hat and to lend a hand in the kitchen i.e. eat sugar out of the canister by the spoonful.

August passed in a blur of muddy red boots, shovels and dirt as the quest for toads and worms seemed unending.  He'd still be out there right now if we'd have left him to his own devices.

September brought new life into our household, something readily and totally embraced by big brother Channing.  The boys practiced their wrestling moves on the first day Max was home from the hospital.  It hasn't stopped.  I wouldn't have it any other way.

See...this is one proud big brother.  I was trying to take a one month picture of Max.  Channing kept creeping in.  I'll remind him of this in another three years when he absolutely refuses to let me take his picture.  Let's be realistic.  That day is coming.

We've come full circle.  This time, I was not allowed to pick out the clothes.  I couldn't even hint at what I'd have grabbed from the dresser drawers.  He was little Mr. Independent.  I'm beyond excited to see what this year brings.  Beyond excited.  Each year, I think 'this is my favorite age' then the next comes along and I like it even better.  

Happy birthday, Walter Channing Flynn.  You are SO loved.

Remembering

It's not as if we need an excuse.  We remember her every.  single.  day.  Baby Sophie.  Funny, in a way, that we still call her that.  She'd have turned two today. 

We had a quiet dinner last night.  The invitation was very last minute.  Which, if you know me well, you know how much of a planner I am in regard to dinners and parties and dinner parties.  It's hard to know how to meld together the joy and the melancholy.  So I avoided the issue until the 11th hour and then sent a hasty email to very few.  


Of course, dessert included strawberries.  We sang Happy Birthday.  Channing blew out the candles.  And we remembered, with light yet heavy hearts the bitty girl that exuded big love.  Thankful for her time with us.  So deeply sadden by our loss.  

I melt every time I see this picture of Channing and his two Sophies.  He loves his bitty girl.  Both of them.  

Big things are brewing in her honor.  BIG things.  Just you wait and see. 

Who

Coming up with a short list for the above photo wasn't easy.  This proud mama could go on and on and on.  You get the gist of it though.  Channing's now three and he's darn cute to boot.  

We've been busy celebrating in all sorts of ways.  Last week was filled with party prep.  Channing's furry, blue Halloween costume inspired his monster themed birthday party.  Well, the costume and the fact that he likes to 'rawr' you and give monster kisses.  You know, kisses that start with a sweet little pucker and end in an ear splitting growl.  They're the best.  Believe me.


We worked through making both a monster cake and cake pops with only one minor oops.  It was very minor.  Channing's reaction?  'Holy moly cow!  That eye ball spwatted!'  Grandma tried to get him to eat the mistake.  That's what bakers do, right?  He refused.  It was funny.  Very funny.  

Channing didn't have any fun at all helping Grandma Meredith and Grandma Kathy make
cake pops.  Nope.  Not one bit of fun.  

This cake was a labor of love with many, many hands in the mix.  Channing made the frosting.
Cassie helped me put it together and give it that furry look we were hoping for.  Michael took
care of the finishing touches.  Et voila!  A hairy, monster cake for all to enjoy.

So was the way Channing sang Happy Birthday just as loudly as everyone else and how he screamed with delight each and every time he opened a gift.  This mama's cheeks ached from smiling by the time the last guest said their goodbyes and headed for home.  

They're still aching after a morning spent at the Mall of America watching one delighted little boy run from ride to ride, laughing all the way.  Channing's birthday request for today was to ride the roller coaster, to get a pretzel and a lemonade and then to have ice cream.  That Super Hero flavored ice cream was grosser than gross, but the birthday boy enjoyed it right to the very end.  

Here's to you and your third year, Big Guy.  This one says it all.  

Happy Birthday Bitty Girl

Oh bitty girl...I can still feel her and smell her as if I set her tiny body down but for a minute, just long enough to help Channing put on a shoe or to stir a hot pot of deliciousness on the stove in anticipation of WM's arrival home after a long day at the office.  Today is her birthday.  Her first birthday.  Her first birthday since she both came into and left this world.  

I cannot begin to explain the wealth of emotion that comes from trying to get one's head and one's heart around this day.  The way my mood swings is manic.  I can picture in my head our new house filled with family and kindred spirits and little people all around.  The joy in the air is electric.  There is a banner strung along the upper level railing exclaiming, Happy Birthday Sophie.  There are strawberries everywhere.  And dots.  Lots of polka dots.  I'm in a party frock as is she.  WM is always within arms reach, beaming with pride.  WC is underfoot as usual.  And we're happy.  Gloriously happy.   


In reality, the day came upon us slowly.  First WM and I alone in bed, holding each other, remembering where we were one year ago at that exact moment and sharing our tears.  Then Channing woke and we were forced into action.  Action it was. Non-stop.  We tumbled into projects like water propelled down the falls, any excuse to hide our sadness, quick to turn away when the tears, barely under the surface, spilled over.  

One of numerous projects completed today.  Thanks Kel for the advice on how to hang these.
Your technique worked perfectly.

A few of us gathered in the evening for dinner.  We appreciated the company of those who dined at our table.  There should have been more.  I wasn't brave enough to extend the invitation, not wanting to disappoint if the emotion of the day got to be too much and plans suddenly had to be canceled.  


For dinner, WM made his infamous buffalo chicken on the grill.  It is simply amazing.  He has his grilling technique down to a very fine art.  Very fine indeed.  We had agreed upon a fancy dessert in honor of the Peanuttiest Little Girl.  It must be delicate and beautiful and delicious.  We melded together an idea for a layered chocolate meringue we'd seen on the Cooking Channel with Ina Garten's Berries Pavlova, a long-time favorite.  The end result was everything we hoped it would be, down to the very last bite.  

This will undoubtedly be tradition.  

With dishes washed, we drifted from the dining room to the front porch.  WM, Channing & cousin Tristan intent on making a bubble the size of a bus thanks to a kit brought by Grandma Kath.  There we stayed until a little boy's bedtime chased us indoors and chased our guests away.  


Tucking Channing into bed, we followed his bedtime ritual which includes singing Happy Birthday to the person of his choosing.  Tonight, we sang to WM and then to Sophie.  As Sophie's birthday song ended, he told me, 'Me make a really, really giant bubble a Sophie.  It went up, up, up to Heaven.  Sophie a [laughter].  Me make her too happy.'  Yes, little buddy.  You do.