I haven't blogged in a while, but only because life has been, at times, a bit too overwhelming and not something to write about. I'll just leave it at that. However, while life has been going on, so has a lot in regard to my daughter. On December 18th, Farrah turned 2. The terrible twos. But, she began her terrible twos at the age of one, so I'm not really sure how that exactly works. Since we had the snow storm of the century, we couldn't exactly pull off a big party. We simply had her brothers over (that's right, brothers; another story, another time) and her Mommy and Daddy for presents and cake. It was nice, calm, and quiet. Except for when the sugar from the cake kicked in and she discovered her baby and stroller. Yikes. She pushed her baby in its stroller back and forth from the kitchen to the living room so many times until she ran out of steam. Ahhh, our little girl is two. She is sweet, kind hearted, loving, and so smart. I couldn't have asked for a better person to be made by me and her dad.
On December 24th, Christmas Eve, at the very last minute, on our way to my family's Christmas party, we took Farrah to see Saint Nick. It was an odd place we were told about to take her. We were told, he was real and, in fact, his real name was Santa Claus. He was located at a place in Marysville called, Santa's Den. When we arrived, I had a vision in my mind of what it was going to look like: Warm lighting, a beautiful Christmas tree (or about 5-6 of them), Christmas music in the back ground, pretty twinkling lights everywhere, perhaps someone selling cookies and hot cocoa, perhaps even seeing Santa; you know, something you'd find in Santa's Den. Not so much. It was located inside a mattress manufacturing place. The flurecent lights brightened up the whole place. You could hear a movie blasting through the room, there were fold out tables everywhere with papers and crayons and accompanied by fold out chairs (that could barely hold Mike's weight). Garbages were overflowing, there was one tree, kids were just hanging around and didn't look terribly excited, and the parents all had looks of dispair on their faces, including us. But worst of all, Santa was hidden in a little space behind a curtain. That space behind the curtain was actually Santa's Den. Where we were waiting was a loud, kinda decorated, low energy, mattress outlet with fold out chairs. The wait seemed to drag on forever and ever. I believe not just the kids were telling Santa what they wanted, but the adults were as well. Farrah looked so beautiful in her silver dress and her head band. What was missing from her darling ensamble? Shoes. We couldn't find her silver shoes anywhere, so ours was the ghetto kid in that place. When they finally called our number, we were allowed to go in to see the big man himself. Our friends were right, he was the real deal. Mike and I walked up with Farrah to meet him and she was hesitant (good girl - stranger danger) until Daddy shook Santa's hand to show her he was okay. She got up on his lap and was in awe. So were we. Sweetness oozed out of our child. Then she saw the camera. She knew what to do like a little professional. The pictures turned out amazing, and we were so happy that we had chosen that place to get her pictures done. Next time, however we will be arriving the day after Thanksgiving.