It's Not Always About My Kids (And other lies I tell myself)

You were warned.

You wanna know how bad it is? Well, just watch how I turn a You Capture prompt of "Holiday Decorations" into a You Blubber post about my daughter turning three. Go ahead and stage an intervention. It is TOO LATE. By the time you get here, she'll have already turned three, and I will be a hormonal heap on the floor. Hopefully I'll be able to pick myself up in time for Christmas.

Which leads me to decorations...
Here is the first and only non-Sheridan-related shot I took. It is essentially an up close look a semi-natural, fake-pine-coneish, bling-infested bird's nest in the shape of a Christmas tree. It came all the way from China to adorn my kitchen table. (Thank you Target and your rockin' after Christmas sale).

And then, what's this? A shot of the Christmas tree! And whose beautiful face should appear but, look...can it be?...why yes it is! It's the lovely almost-three-year old Sheridan, back when she was (sniff sniff) not quite a year old. Sigh.
And would you look at that? A red stocking. Right next to (yep you guessed it) my darling Dani girl. Can you believe she's turning three already? What is UP with that?

And I would be remiss if I failed to include a glimpse of the train that circles the Christmas tree. It's one of our favorite traditions to pull this out and take turns pressing the buttons to make it chug-a-chug around the tree. Oops. Apparently there is not even a glimpse of the train in this one. Just of my sweet daughter watching the train. I guess that means I'm remiss.

Oh well. Who cares about a silly old train? Christmas is about the children, people. MY children. And even more specifically, my Dani girl.

So if you'll excuse me, I'm going to go curl up in the fetal position, eat the rest of the red-wrappered reeses cups and reminisce about this very day three years ago when I was as a big as a Christmas tree and just hours away from meeting my one and only little girl.


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