Emma

Emma is getting heavy to carry around. She is getting to be a girl, no longer a baby. She has grown so much and has become so much faster, walking and talking. Tara stays beautiful, and rolls with what comes her way. Me? I am getting grey through my facial hair. Emma often wonders off and can be heard singing and laughing happily her own. For the uninitiated, we have a cat that isn't friendly, at all. Ask most people and they will tell you about a confrontation that they have had at some point with Oreo. However, cat and daughter seem to have struck some strange balance in our home. At times she is found banging out instructions at the cat or chasing him yelling"rat cat". Imagine the disbelief when Tara discovered her the other day playing dress up with him. Emma's enthusiasm seems to have extended to being outside lately. It used to be that she wanted to be in someones car, that was her version of being outside. Now, she is often at the front door asking if it is time to go for a walk. At these times it gets so hard to not drop everything and head out the door. We live in the middle of Newmarket. We are surrounded by walking paths that take you to parks and along the river, and through the woods. The other day Tara and I decided to take Sam and Emma on a family walk, to the Ford dealer. This is what my perfect family would do on a Saturday afternoon. Emma had the time of her life running in the beds of the pick ups and trying to get into all of the cars. Sam spent the time in his baby byorn his face mashed into my chest. Tara said that he was hiding his face in shame. His road to life-long embarrassment by his family members has only just started.