Not only were we treated to a first-class wine tasting, but our kiddos were entertained next door at the same time! Pump It Up graciously entertained our kids and even walked them over to us at the end of the evening thoroughly worn out and ready to jump into their jammies.

The Colorado Red Cross even joined us for the evening and gave a wonderful presentation on the importance of Infant/Child CPR. Use the code “blogger” at checkout and receive 15% any class. A good opportunity if you need to be certified or renew.

Adding to the fun, Colorado’s own Steve Spangler Science had hidden tubs of Leprechan green snow around the room for us to find in a combination St. Patrick’s Day Easter egg hunt.

At the end of the night, Water 2 Wine treated us all to a bottle of wine custom-labeled just for us. Custom labeling, tastings and private parties are all part of the fun offered at this unique establishment. Already planning our next date-night!

Just when I thought the night couldn’t get any more great, yours truly won a drawing for four tickets to Sesame Street Live! Woot! Here we come, Elmo!

Some of my favorite moments in my daughter’s life happen when I’m not even there. By design. Other special moments I’ve missed, I will grieve over, but these… I relish. Because it means a special bond is being built between the two people I love the most. A different kind of bond than I will ever have with either of them. I call them daddy-daughter days.

This weekend ended with hot chocolate and pancakes at the Rise & Shine Cafe in Winter Park. With sorting, stacking and organizing the jellies in their holder until the strawberry, grape and blackberry each occupied their own space.

But, it began with a day spent on a snow-covered hill in Hideaway Park. One that the previous year was feared when ridden with Mommy on a little red sled. We would not name it Rosebud.

This year, at the fearless age of three, another little red sled, was embraced with Daddy on the same snow-covered hill. To hear it told later, Daddy and Reagan rode down (and walked back up) 100 times. And each time at the bottom, a cheer to do it again was shouted with unbridled enthusiasm. All afternoon, while I was having my own glorious day riding the mountain, my better half and my half pint were building a perfect moment, 100 times over.

I’ve had my own mini-reunions with dear college classmates, but this past weekend was the biggest organized reunion I never thought possible: a decade of Deltas, Tri-Delta sisters from Arizona State University all descended upon Scottsdale, AZ after 20 or so years apart. All together, roughly 100 women from across the country came together for some old-fashioned sisterhood bonding time.

These are women I’ve shared dorm rooms with no bigger than some people’s closets, as well as clothes, notes, answering machines, hotpots, secrets and many an all-nighter. Memories with each and every one of my sisters is as precious as the diploma I earned after four of the craziest years of my life.

The fun began while checking into our rooms at the Scottsdale Conference Resort, when one after another, we encountered familiar faces and hugs ensued while the poor desk clerks were just trying to get our credit cards and home addresses. For many of us, all we had seen of each other in 20 years were our pictures on Facebook. We had all moved on with our lives, with careers, husbands, bills and babies, but at that moment, it was like no time had passed at all and we were headed back to our Chapter room to gather for a social at a local establishment in Tempe.

Our destination for the first evening, the resort lounge, Sangria’s for Happy Hour.

The next evening we did a trolley tour of Tempe to see what remained in actual brick and mortar of our memories. The sad state of Alpha Drive, or “New Row” as we called it, and Palo Verde Main which once housed all the sororities was enough to make us all pine for the days when Fraternities and Sororities once ruled ASU campus. With only three fraternity houses still standing, Alpha Drive is but a shell of its’ once virile days of Rush parties with lines of young collegiates down the street waiting to get in and partake of Jello shots, Jungle Juice and Coors Light. Palo Verde Main is now a co-ed dorm, like the rest.

Bandersnatch, MinderBinders, The Dash, Surprises, Club Rio, all gone. But, one old friend still survives: The Vine. Of course, it was our first stop on the tour for a refresher course on College Refreshments 101.

Followed by dinner at Gordon Biersch on Mill Ave.

And ending with a night of dancing at Flicka’s Bar & Grill where Flicka himself treated us to his namesake special drinks!

After only a few hours of sleep for some of us, we met for brunch at the resort to say our goodbyes.

But, just as it seemed no time had passed between us, and everyone looked the same (or even better) as when we last saw them, it was clear that this would not be the last time we would all meet. Facebook has brought us together for life and we wonder what we would all do without it.

Remember when you looked forward to your birthday? Perhaps, even more than Christmas? What could compare with having your own special day set aside to spend how you wanted, your friends and family lavishing you with attention, presents to rip open and cake and ice cream to sink your teeth into? Somewhere in your 30’s, the day loses its’ charm. Maybe you don’t celebrate at all anymore. I know I don’t.

Nothing brings the magic back more than a just turned three-year-old, whose awareness of birthdays is just starting to peak.

I wanna make cupcakes! How ’bout today? Today? Reagan wants to make cupcakes! Is today my birthday? Is Sarah coming? And Ana? And Nola? And Tyler? How ’bout Sarah? And Ana? And Tyler? And Nola? Let’s make cupcakes! And Sarah will be there? And Ana? And Nola? And Tyler? And Sarah…

Until…

The day finally arrives. And like a Jack-in-the-box on Red Bull, she explodes from her bed, “TODAY’S MY BIRTHDAY!!!!!!!”

When it’s finally time to get ready, Reagan is the most compliant she has ever been. I think she gets it. The sooner she is dressed and her hair is combed, the sooner we can get to partying!

As the guests arrive Reagan greets each and every one with a hop and a skip, her arms rising and falling in an awkward greeting. She twirls gleefully, then gallops toward the playground, looking back to see if her playmate is following. And without hesitation, they are. Like a ritual dance, where no words are spoken, each knows the purpose of their time together is to run and play until gasping for air, they are forced to make a “mom-stop” for refueling by sippy cup. Then they’re off again, laughing and squealing; a bumped head here and a short crying spell there — but, not for long. A few hugs and kisses later and they’re back in the race. Every now and then pausing to ask if it’s time to eat cupcakes yet or open presents.

Cheeseburgers, fries, chicken nuggets and macaroni and cheese. A gourmet meal by any preschooler’s standards. But, there’s still more playing to be done, so we must inhale it fast!

Time for cake! Reagan beams as the ceremonial “Happy Birthday” is sung. It’s as if it’s the first and only time it has been sung just for her. Three candles? I can handle that! Pheeeeeeeeeeeew!! The room erupts with applause.

Goofy? Mickey? Minnie? Which do you choose? It’s time to pass out the cupcakes. Strawberry with vanilla frosting and sprinkles – the perfect compliment to my orange soda!

Only 20 minutes left and there are still presents to open! Reagan begins by tugging at the curled ribbon of a bow placed in the center of a package. Sarah shows her how it’s done and rips open another present, before her Daddy reminds her it’s not her birthday. Reagan doesn’t seem to mind. After all, she did the same thing at Sarah’s party eight months earlier. When you’re best buds, what’s yours’ is mine, right?

The gift bags present a bit of a dilemma. What’s all this tissue paper? Is there a present down there somewhere? Oh, YES! Score! A Belle Barbie doll! I’ve noticed a strange pattern with Reagan and dolls. There seems to be a strong impulse to pull off all their clothes and lose their shoes. Every doll in the house is completely naked. I used to try and give them some dignity and dress them whenever I’d find they’d “lost” their clothes, only to discover them a short time later stripped down to their birthday suits once again. What is that? I’ve given up on trying to keep my house free of “Dolls Gone Wild,” and am embracing Reagan’s penchant for the au naturale.

But, I digress…

The perfect moment arrived long after the last present had been opened, hugs and kisses had been given out to all her little friends, and every toy had been painfully extracted from it’s theft-proof box back at home. After Reagan had played with every gift and tried out every color marker in the pack. After she had donned her favorite purple panda pajamas and curled up in her crib with a warm bottle of milk. As I do every night, I peeked in on my angel to watch her sleep, her chest rising and falling beneath her colorful, fleece Dora blanket. I noticed her mouth curled up at the corners and a look of contentedness on her face. I knew she was dreaming of her day and the joy she felt then and as she slept was enough to make birthdays my favorite days all over again.

I am a working Mom.

Though I’ve been a working Mom since last April, it’s something I’ve struggled with daily. The struggle has been not only a mental, guilt-ridden one, but a physical, office-challenged one. Working from home with a two-year-old afoot would prove to be more than a minor trial, my roles shifting from minute-to-minute. An attention-starved, hungry, nap-time toddler cares not that you’re on a deadline or that you have a very important client on the other end of the phone. Your computer is her competition and she’ll do whatever it takes to get in between you and it. And even though we are a two-parent-at-home family, that never seemed to help in carving out what was my “work” time and what was my “mommy” time. It all  blends together. After all, you’re there, why can’t you change this diaper or take care of lunch, help with the laundry or read The Very Hungry Caterpillar? No matter how hard I tried, I was never successful at setting “office hours” that everyone else in the family would dutifully observe.

After 10 months, we have finally reached a crossroads. Danny is about to return to work as a pilot after two years of FAA-enforced medical leave. We will no-longer be a two-parent-at-home family. It’s just gonna be me. And, while at the beginning of this return-to-work-adventure I had no idea whether this would be a short or long-term commitment, it is clear now that to do what’s best for my family means I’m in it for the long-haul. And, my “office hours” were about to get even shorter. We had one thing working for us: Reagan turns three this month. And three, means preschool.

We spent several weeks exploring our options. I took Reagan with me for a whole day, visiting four preschools where she not only got to try out the classrooms, but the playgrounds too. Our favorite was the school where she got to dress as a cowgirl and pass the rope and spurs around to the rest of the kids. When the teacher called for everyone “wearing pink” to get in line, she got up and ran to her place in line as if she were already part of the class. As I put her to bed that night, she asked “Mommy, we go to more preschools tomorrow? Find Reggie’s best!”

And, we did. Reagan now goes every day to a full-time, in-home pre-school/daycare and gets the very best care, play-time, nap-time and education that we found available. I’m thrilled that she’s taken on weekly outings to puppet shows, skating rinks, the zoo and more, and comes home every day with amazing art projects and singing new songs. She loves learning, exploring and playing with other kids all day, and no doubt, would’ve been happier had we done this 10 months ago. I miss her every moment she’s away and wish I could be the one doing all those things with her. But, the time apart has also made it easier for me to accept my role as a working mom and given me the clearly defined office hours I so desperately needed to fulfill that role. And when Reagan’s home from her day of reciting the alphabet and doing the Hokey Pokey, the night is all mine. It’s all mommy time.

I wasn’t sure what to expect when I told my daughter, who is just shy of 3-years-old, that we were going to put together a box of her toys to give to kids who don’t have any. She doesn’t play with most of them anyway and we needed to make room for all her new Christmas loot. So, when she ran straight to her room and came out carrying as much as her little arms could hold, I was stunned, but, pleased. Mostly, I wasn’t sure if she understood. I guess I was expecting the process to be a whole lot more painful.

“Here! Here! They can have this (name of toy) and this (name of toy)!” she exclaimed with joy, then ran back into her room to get more. Back and forth, until her drawers were emptied.

“And this!” she said handing me a toy Santa had just given her for Christmas.

“Reagan? Are you sure? You just got this?”

“Yeah.”

“You realize you’re never going to see this again? Never get to play with it? It’s going to someone else if we put it in the box?”

“Yeah. It’s for my friends.”

“You’re sure?”

“Yeah. They want it. Reagan don’t want it.”

“Okay.” I said, setting that one aside. We didn’t want to hurt Santa’s feelings after all.

Not completely convinced that Reagan knew exactly what we were doing, I held off on taking the box to Goodwill right away. I let it sit for a few days and added even more toys to it from other parts of the house that I thought she might have grown out of. Then on Sunday I pulled out what had now become two boxes, and explained again to Reagan that they were going to go to some kids who wanted them. I showed her each toy one at a time and asked her if it was okay.

“Yeah. They want that,” would come her reply, except in a few cases of some pitiful, little stuffed Pooh dolls, where I heard, “No. That’s Reagan’s Pooh. They not want that.”

I was impressed by the amount of toys she was willing to part with and my heart smiled that it was Pooh Bear, my favorite, and the decor I’ve surrounded her with since birth that she had chosen to keep. But what really touched my heart was when she picked out a ratty, plush, pink hippo wrist-rattle that had been just sitting in a drawer for over a year. I had no idea if she even remembered using it as a baby.

“That Reagan’s raddle! They not want my raddle!” and she quickly put it on her wrist.

As hard as I thought the first parting with Reagan’s toys would be, for both of us, Reagan has shown me that she understands they are just things and there is no need to hold any attachment to them. But, by choosing the items that held the most sentimental value to her, I can see that she also understands the value of memories. She chose well.

Perhaps this is a bit of over-analysis for an animated kid’s movie, but it begs the question, are fairytale princesses passe for young girls of today? I don’t think so.

My little girl is no different from any other her age. She loves to dress up in her growing number of princess costumes (sometimes three at once), complete with crown, jewelry and even a magic wand. We play along and call her Princess Reagan as she twirls and skips through the house, waving her wand in utter confidence that her every wish is our command. Well, I guess she’s mostly right there. Reagan’s been enthralled with everything princessy for the past year, from books and movies to the Band-Aids she plucked off the shelf at Walgreens yesterday with Princess Tiana’s picture on it (conveniently located at kid eye-level). She can’t get enough of Ariel, Cinderella, Belle, Aurora and Snow White, making her Daddy and I read the stories over and over again at naptime and bedtime.

I remember being the same way. I wanted to be Cinderella with singing birds and mice as friends, a pumpkin that turned into a coach, and a handsome prince to rescue me. Despite the fact that I was a tomboy and my mother an adamant feminist who taught me never to rely on a man, that part of me could never be erased. No matter how hard I tried. And, I did try.

I was completely mystified by other girls in college who openly admitted they were there to get their “MRS.” The idea never occurred to me. In fact, I wasn’t even sure a husband and family were something I wanted. I believed in making my own way and being self-reliant. Convinced I would find happiness and fulfillment through my own personal success, I didn’t need a man. In many ways, I could see myself in Tiana, blinded by my own ambition.

But, the truth is, that little girl inside of me who dreamed of being Cinderella never really died. No matter how hard I tried to deny her, she was always there, making an appearance in the excitement of every new relationship. That part of me that wondered, “could this be the one?” could never be squashed. It wasn’t until I made a conscience choice to give into my inner-Cinderella, recognize that there is no shame in desiring love, a husband or children and decided to accept the gift of each, that I truly felt… dare I say it? Complete.

I believe we were designed this way as women. Seeking our soul mate is part of our makeup. And no matter how many decades go by and how far women excel in this world, there is no fighting nature. Is this to say a woman can’t be happy unless she finds a man? No. Of course not. But, is there anything wrong with indulging that innocent part of your little girl who wants to believe in the love of fairytales? I say there is plenty of time for your princess to discover that the world can be one big swamp full of wart-covered frogs promising to be her Prince Charming, and time to learn that she better take the reigns of her own coach if she wants to go anywhere in life. Sure, teach your daughters to stand on their own two feet, but why not also let them believe that there’s a Prince Naveen out there somewhere who can sweep them off of them too?

We rang in the New Year along with 80 or so of Danny’s family members in Destrehan, Louisiana at the plantation his uncle owns, Ormond. Uncle Johnny always puts on a grand fireworks display at midnight, after a dinner of seafood gumbo and jambalaya and night of mingling and dancing.

We’ve been visiting family here in Louisiana for almost two weeks and the eating has been non-stop. I always allow myself to over-indulge when we visit because the food is so good, and because, well, that’s what you do here. You eat. It’s all about the food: gumbo, etouffee, Po’ Boys, jambalaya, Po’ Boys, muffaletas, red beans and rice, pralines, beignets and more Po’ Boys. To visit New Orleans on a diet would be a sin.

It’s all a great set-up for my first resolution:

#1 Eat healthy.

This of course, is to commence as soon as we leave Louisiana. On Tuesday.

My second resolution falls in line with the first:

#2 Exercise.

Fortunately, I was recently gifted a Nintendo Wii Fit Plus at a launch party hosted by friends and bloggers, Amber of CrazyBlogginCanuck.com and Aimee at Greeblemonkey.com. What a Christmas present! Thanks Amber and Aimee, and of course, Nintendo! I have no excuse now to not squeeze a workout into my day.

#3 Read more.

I’m ashamed to admit, I didn’t finish one book last year. Started more than a few; never finished. My goal is to finish two. Gotta set the bar low and work my way up!

#4 Pray more.

Because we all need more prayer, right? I’ll be starting with this one every day; praying that I keep all my other resolutions!

Happy New Year, everyone!

What are some of your New Year’s resolutions?

Last week was full of perfect moments. But, nothing could be more perfect than Christmas day visiting family in Louisiana. THE day we’d been promising Reagan all month had FINALLY arrived.

It was a morning fit for a princess as Reagan had the stage all to herself. She made the most of it, carefully tearing open presents and throwing away each tiny piece of paper, bit by bit. I kid you not. Though thankful she is a tidy tot, this could take hours.

The first present she opened was a book. And before anyone knew what had happened, Reagan ran out of the living room with it like a shot! Where did she go? Well, to put it on the bookshelf with all her other books where it belonged, of course! This had us all laughing hysterically. <Insert anal retentive jokes here.>

I treasured every moment of the morning, watching Reagan open each toy and play with it like it was the only one she had been given. We had to remind her every time there were more. Clearly, she doesn’t have the hang of this Christmas thing yet.

Opening all those presents from Santa can be exhausting! Several hours and some blueberry pancakes later, just as we were about to head out the door to visit friends, Reagan did something she has never ever done. She announced she was going to take a nap. And she did. For three whole hours! Knowing we had an eventful night ahead of us, we let her. For after that, it was off to her “second Christmas.” This one, with the Carmouche clan and just a few of Reagan’s countless cousins:

There was much horseplay and trouble to be made at Uncle Johnny’s house while the adults were in the kitchen stirring and sampling the chicken and andouille gumbo:

And then it was time to open even MORE presents! Right in the middle of all the excitement, mid-tear, Reagan got glassy-eyed and was soon out for the count well before 9pm:

It appears she had had enough for one day. Hopefully now we’ll no longer hear this again, “Mommy, where’s my present?” Until next year that is!