So we've had a few really big, memorable weekends lately for our little family, and it's been pretty great. I'm sure most of you remember me writing about Caroline saying "momma" for the first time a few weeks ago, and this was just the beginning of another round of big firsts for us that will carry us through the end of the year.
Last weekend, we drove down to see some of Ashley's relatives who live in east Texas, which meant spending seven hours in the car with our 7-month-old baby girl. It's no secret how much I love this kid, but I was a little afraid that spending that much time trapped in a car with a screaming, crying, cranky baby might make me want to "accidentally" drive the wrong way through traffic. But it didn't, and I think we're all thankful for that.
Caroline actually slept almost the whole trip down. It was great. But that wasn't the only obstacle facing us on this trip. As many of you with children know, taking a child into a strange environment surrounded by strange, unfamiliar people can be, well, disastrous. So I, once again, was kind of worried about how things would go once we actually got to Texas.
But true to form, my sweet Caroline took it all in stride and was an angel. Now, I say "true to form" because she seems to always surprise me when thrust into new situations. Seven hours in a car? No problem, she sleeps the whole time. Meeting a house full of new people after said time in the car? Again, no problem, she giggles and smiles and is the poster child for a happy baby.
Overall, it was a really fun trip for the three of us. We went to a high school football game. I watched the Texas A&M game with actual Aggies fans. We did some shopping. We had plenty of good ol' home cooking. And we hung out with family. It was nice.
On one of our last evenings there I was talking to my mom and she told me that the first trip I ever took as a baby was also to Texas. My grandparents lived in San Antonio and we drove down from Colorado to see them. Knowing that both mine and Caroline's first real trips were to the Lone Star state made the trip even more special for me.
This weekend was special also because Caroline was treated to our annual first-screening of the movie "Elf," with Will Ferrell. This is one of my favorite movies, and was the movie Ashley and I watched on our first date nine years ago. But what I love most about it is that we always break it out the weekend we put up Christmas decorations.
Yep, we put up our Christmas decorations this weekend.
Now, if you're one of those crotchety, cranky-pants Scrooges who's upset that Christmas decorations are popping up in every store or that the holiday commercials and Christmas music have started playing, please steer clear of me for the next several weeks because I am ridiculously cheerful right now. I live for Christmas -- it's my favorite time of year, and I think it's too big to be contained in the first 25 days of December. So once the second week of November hits, I'm all in. I'm blasting Christmas music, laying out my ugly Christmas sweaters, drinking cocoa and decking those halls. And this year is particularly special because it's Caroline's first Christmas, and Ashley and I are determined to ingrain the holiday spirit in her at a young age.
While these last few weekends have been spiked with good times, this weekend I also came to the stark realization that I know nothing about girls. Now I'm not talking about women--although I'm just as lost there. No, I mean little girls.
Here's how this epiphany hit me. At some point Saturday we were flipping through the channels and landed on "The Brady Bunch." It was the episode where Marcia lost her diary. She was so upset because the diary contained her inner most thoughts -- something Cindy had never even had. Now my first assumption was that maybe she had a crush on one of the boy's friends or maybe a neighbor or something. But no. Instead she wrote about her feelings for the one and only Desi Arnaz Jr., and how she hoped to one day be Mrs. Desi Arnaz Jr.
But didn't most girls have a thing for the young Desi or Davy Jones or the Partridge kid? I mean, how is that an "inner most thought"? Unless it's some 50 Shades of Grey-esque thoughts, in which case she should be very ashamed.
Again, I don't see why this was such a big deal. When I was a kid, I had a thing for Sarah Michelle Gellar and Rachel Leigh Cooke, but so did every other guy I knew -- it wasn't a secret. If you were a guy of a certain age you had a crush on certain celebrities. But having a crush on your neighbor or a schoolmate was something you kept to yourself. That was something you would have been embarrassed about.
So yeah, I know nothing about girls, which wouldn't be a problem except for the fact that I, as you know, have a little girl. Oh well, being a parent was starting to seem easy. I guess I couldn't hold onto that forever. Here's to me saying and doing all the wrong things and making all the ladies in my house hate me.
As always, you guys can follow me on Twitter at @CN_ChrisP. May the force be with you.
cpinkard@blythevillecourier.com