Hope You Had a Jolly Good One

Dear Friends, Family, and Voyeuristic Blog Browsers,

We sincerely hope you had a great Christmas; full of joy and cheer and memories made.

Blessings!!

Dustin, Sarah, Sophia, Edison, Sheba, and Mittens

Edison's Say

At long last I will make my voice heard! Frankly, I'm surprised there hasn't been more of an uproar; Mommy goes on and on about the ballet, Sophia, and of course...rowing, as if there was anything hard about it. And all the while I'm sure you were thinking; but what of the little prince? Well, let me fill you in. I've come a long way from my early days of slothful indulgence and obesity (see photo). I'm a biped now and prefer cowboy boots and jammies for attire (see other photo). I can now scale my throne (a.k.a. high chair) all by myself through a series of physically demanding contortions and many grunts. I do my part to keep Mommy busy; spilling stuff, playing in the toilet, dumping out everything that is inside of anything, and whatnot. Daddy is very impressed at how I can operate a laptop; whenever I climb up the desk chair and start tapping away, he comes in with such a wide-eyed expression and says a bunch of words that I assume are praise. I'm really into carbs, which makes me a fine Chilean; bread, pasta, crackers, tortillas, and cookies. I'm also an early-riser; I'm up and ready to go at 6:00 which I'm sure my parents love; more quality time together. Though, to expound on that a bit, I hardly recognize them at that fine hour. They're puffy-faced, wild-haired and grumpy for some reason, but fortunately, after Dad has a mug of hot stuff he seems more human. My sister thinks she's a little Mommy; she's always bossing me around and tattling, and even runs commentary during my diaper changes; as if my natural products are THAT gross. I hate baths and scream the whole way through them which is really fun because my voice echoes off the tile walls for good dramatic effect. Beyond all this; my Mommy would insist that I am a sweet little boy who give kisses and darling smiles and hugs, and that I am her precious "little man". I wouldn't say it, but that's what people say, you know.

Be sure to comment, I love attention!

Love, Edison James Gingrich

Girl's Night Out

To My Most Amiable Readers,

Last night I had the wonderful opportunity to bring my little girl to her first ballet, The Nutcracker. We got all dressed up in black and white with matching bracelets, and one beaded purse full of "chew-chew gum" and "lips" (lip gloss). Friends helped us find good seats right in the middle and then began the magic.
Sophia was rapt with attention as the dark red curtains parted and the music swelled. Then out of all directions burst forth little ballerinas in butterfly costumes. I've never seen her attention so fixed. Then came bears and then cats with long tails and claws, stretching and prowling all over the stage. And this was just the pre-presentation!
She was especially overcome to see that four of her friends were up there dancing; our coworker's children. Sophia was always the first to start clapping when anyone bowed, and she barely restrained herself from standing on her seat.
One thing did confuse her though; each time she got off her seat it went sailing up into itself. She would look at me accusingly and tell me "No Mommy! Don't do that!". This much amused an elderly lady seated next to her.
Sophia had such a good time, and it was fun for me to see the ballet through her child's eyes and reactions. She was especially astounded with my generosity of "chew-chew gum". Each time it lost flavor I'd give her a "fresh" one. Sometimes you've got to spoil them.
As the performance came to an end, they had a time for passing out awards and graduation certificates to the ballerinas. There had to have been more than seven "Sophias" that were called forth, and each time Sophia would turn to me wide-eyed and asked if she could go up. As we got up to leave a veritable storm cloud fell over my little one's countenance....
"NO MOMMY! I'm not going home! I'm going to go up there! And dancing, ME, Sophia!" Oh how mad she was; she had figured in her mind that she would get a turn too. I tried to explain that you have to take classes first before you can dance in the ballet, but to no avail. On the verge of tears she trudged along behind me. She perked up a bit in the lobby while we waited for Daddy to pick us up. Why? Because I asked her to dance for me.

Your Most Devoted, Sarah

Dance dance dance....

To My Most Amiable Readers,

Here we are at the reception of our first Chilean wedding. Highlights of the evening for me were the ceviche de salmon, wearing a fun spinny skirt and toting a fun old-fashioned looking beaded purse, and of course, the dancing!!! Latin Americans know how to pick dance music, and every song makes your toes tap and suckers you into kicking up your heels. Wedding receptions generally go well into the morning; so we missed the cake cutting, which would've happened around four a.m. We collapsed into bed at two in the morning, exhausted, happy, and glad to have enjoyed an evening of such festive fun.

Your Most Devoted, Sarah