Yelling from the back of a wooden horse - never a better moment

My mom and I started a new tradition a few years ago.

Each mother's day, I come up with some place for us to go, something for us to do. Just us (well, and now, with Babygirl). First we went to a winery about 2 hours away and then stayed in a state park. Last year, she and (a very pregnant) I drove out to Virginia together and stayed with her brother and family (and piggy-backed a work meeting for me in there). This year, with the three of us headed to southwestern Michigan.

The visit was great, the weather was hot, the food was nothing less than superb. All. Of. It.

As anything else in my existence, the trip mainly revolved around Babygirl's eating/sleeping times, but that did not hinder us from going where we wanted to go. We ate at a fantastic European restaurant in New Buffalo (post coming soon to a blog near you), Google Maps failed us twice with directions, we got lost in Benton Harbor, we visited Silver Beach, we swam at the hotel, we went to the Blueberry Festival in South Haven, we talked and ate and laughed and had a great time.

A perfect snapshot of the whole weekend was at the carousel at Silver Beach. I didn't know what she would think when we walked into the building. The carousel was still, and children were perched on horses calling out their newly given names.

Babygirl had seen nothing like it. Her eyes were big as blue saucers as music started and the horses on poles started to slowly move up and then down and then out of sight.

We HAD to ride.

I scrounged up the quarters out of the bottoms of various bags necessary to pay for the $2 token. To pay, we had to stand beside the antique band organ that provided music for the ride. The noise overwhelmed Babygirl's ears, and she began to cry...as I turned shiny token in hand.

We moved quickly away from the band organ, and she recovered - watching the carousel come to a halt.

She and I climbed on. She held on to the gilded pole with her plump little fingers. She released her left hand (only momentarily) to wave to Gramma waving from the sidelines. She waited. I held her still, but she was securely perched.

Then it began. Up. Down. UP. DOWN. Faster and faster. Her mouth was locked in her "pensive" face as she watched her formerly stationary surroundings whiz by. Then we passed the band organ on the far side of our revolution. She turned to me as the music became loud ... and then soft. She smiled.

She watched Gramma fly by.

Then the music again.

Then a smile.

Then Gramma.

Then the music. But this time, once she registered that music was loud she yelled - nearly a quarter revolution too late. Not a mad yell. Not angry. Just "I can be as loud as you".

Then Gramma.
Then quiet.
Then music.
Then yelling.
Then Gramma.
Then quiet.
Then music.

The standing crowd laughing at this baby yelling with the face of a choir boy figurine.

Then Gramma.
Then quiet.
Then music.
Then yelling.

Around and around. Until we slowed to a silent stop.

A pure, simple activity made magical by seeing it through the eyes of a 10 month old.

Operation Weight-loss Update - 15 weeks from the big 3-0:
15.5 lbs from goal weight. Worked out this morning after a weekend full of indulgence and 2 weeks worth of caloric intake. Just did stretching dvd...as to not jiggle myself sore as I did last week doing plyometrics.