A very welcome pattern

So a few weeks ago, my dear friend Carrie came into town and I was able to spend a couple of days with her. As most of you know, Carrie is my very best friend and has been since we were skinny, fritzy little girls. We began to play together at the tender age of six and were inseparable through college. Marriage has definitely put a bit of a strain on the relationship. We no longer sleep in the same bed or attend one anothers family vacations, but we remain very close. Our dream growing up was that we would move into homes next door to each other and make jam while our daughters had sleepovers. Our hope was that our daughters would become best friends and carry on the legacy. When Carrie's daughter, Roxie was born our silly plan slowly started to roll into motion (or so we hoped). When you are tiny, like our girls, a few months age difference can seam like much more. During each of Carrie's previous visits, Maggie had not shown much interest in the Rox because Roxie was too little to really play. HOWEVER! This last trip proved to be very different! There was giggling, playing, communicating, and even some friendly hand holding involved! And so it starts! I can't say I'm surprised.

Big happenings at the McDowell's!

Well it looks as though we will be expanding to a party of five! That's right. MUCH to our surprise, Rob and I find ourselves expecting baby number three and we couldn't be more thrilled! I am eight weeks along and due February 27th. Just around the corner, right? (nervous laughter) So luckily for me, the morning sickness is at a minimum and all that ails me on a regular basis is how insanely tired I am. Each morning when Maggie wakes me up asking for "warm milk and a show" I feel like somehow during the night, I have been hit by a cement truck. Good times. Wish us luck! This will definitely take some rearranging to make it work, but we are more than happy to do so!

So Maggie thinks she can dance...

A few months ago I spoke to some of my friends with little girls who are Maggie's age and I began to have a Baby Boom moment. Let me explain: Baby Boom is a CLASSIC movie from the eighties about a New York career woman (Diane Keaton) who is quickly brought to her knees when an obscure relative dies and leaves her a one year old baby girl. The woman has no time for the baby, she tries to keep her career and be a mom at the same time, yackety shmack...eventually (after a montage of the woman taking care of the sick baby all night) the woman's heart is softened, she gives up her career for the child, moves to the country, starts a baby applesauce business, makes millions, and marries the local doctor. One of my all time eighties favorites, I must admit. But to get to the point, there is a scene in the movie where the woman is at a park in New York and she overhears a couple of rich, pretentious mothers talking about putting their unborn children on the waiting lists for various prestigious private schools. After that, they list about a thousand classes, activities, etc that their other children are in (fencing, gymnastics, French lessons, violin, etc.) So basically Diane Keaton panics and feels totally inadequate. She thinks her baby is way behind and she is failing as a mother. Well after speaking with my friends about their wildly advanced children and all the amazing activities and lessons they are involved in, I believe I had a strong taste of what Diane Keaton's character was experiencing in that ridiculous scene. I have always thought that those other mothers were silly and that I would be able to clearly see such a situation for exactly what it was if I were faced with the same. However, after our conversation, I believe I had some mild heart palpitations as I began to sweat at the thought of my Maggie being left behind. Moments later I called Center Stage Dance Studios. I have since gotten over my panic. Maggie is three. She is smart, fast, creative, confident, talented, and the farthest thing from "behind". I have nothing to worry about, but in the meantime, I get to go to her dance class once a week and laugh myself senseless while Maggie and six other sprightly pixies flit across the dance floor in tutus and tiny ballet shoes. Easily the most entertaining part of my week, but the best part is, Maggie LOVES it! It is all that she talks about, and for that, I am glad for my Baby Boom moment.

p.s. I am hoping that anyone reading this post is pop culture savy enough to catch that the title of the post is a play on the very popular TV show's title, So You Think You Can Dance, and not my way of mocking my poor little three year old.
p.p.s. So You Think You Can Dance rules! Go Chelsea Hightower! (She is a teacher at Maggie's very exclusive, very upper class, very better-than-you dance studio)