Grammar, respectively...

Around the end of last year (when I originally started this blog, only to wildly procrastinate and start posting now), I Googled something about grammar (surely it had to do something with using "and I" or "and me" correctly) and I randomly found another blog in which a certain post was titled "Grammar". Turns out this blog is written by a man named Nik S. Clements who is a photographer (a pretty awesome one, I came to find) in Pennsylvania, who writes bits of his blog to his son.

http://niksc.com/blog/

Something that night made me stay up till much later than my then-new mom energy levels should have allowed, and I proceeded to read every post in that particular section of his blog. The section, called Dear Kyan, is filled with short little letters he writes to his son every time he says something clever/silly/sweet. They are each like little Kodak moments captured on a computer screen. Reading them, I felt part guilty, part lucky for being a fly on the wall of such a sweetly tender and playful place.

After reading them (all of them) I got to thinking of all the little moments like that that I had and would continue to have with Wyatt. Wouldn't it be great to have those documented for us to look back on one day while he puts a warm blanket over my old, cold bones as we sit by the fire and fondly recall the days of his youth? There are a million times a day where he makes me smile, or melt, or laugh out loud, or grit my teeth that I would love to be able to remember when I wonder where my teeny tiny baby boy went. And there was something about the way that Nik wrote to his son and signed off in each blog that was just what I would want to be able to do for Wyatt. Since I am not that clever on my own, one night, I wrote to him and asked his permission to *ahem* borrow his idea for my own modest blog that I think all of maybe three people are reading at the moment. He graciously allowed me to completely rip his idea off, kinda like that one time in junior high when I got an asymmetrical hair cut (I was so fashion forward, mind you) only to come to school two days later and see that very same cut on someone else...well, not exactly the same scenario, but you get the gist.

So from here on, when I have a moment with Wy that I want to be able to remember and share with you all (all three of you, that is) I am going to put it in a letter to my sweet boy and sign off in a very, Mama-who-wishes-she-came-up-with-this-idea-on-her-own, kind of way.

Thanks, Nik. I hope Kyan knows what a good papa he has...

Yee Haw!

Okay, so I'm a day late and a dollar short as far as this posting goes, but I am a busy mom who's learning to drive a stick-shift at the age of 28...sue me!

Well, as with any Debra Ramirez Birthday Production, it was a hit! The backyard was decorated with WANTED posters, bales of hay, a cow bounce house, and a prize winning chicken (no joke). I never had parties like this as a child, nor do I think any of my adult parties will ever be this elaborate, but far be it from me to keep a grandmother from her dream of completely spoiling her first grandson on his birthday - and I mean that in every sense of the word...I think he is still coming down from his sugar high.

We were all dressed for the theme, as we do even if not required. Wy looked adorable in his Wranglers, cowboy boots (that literally took us about 25 minutes to get on his chubby little Flintstone feet), cowboy hat and bandanna. I mean, too cute. Mike spent the two weeks previous to the party growing a part-Yeti-part-John Lennon beard only to shave it into a classic, cowboy moo-stache the day of. It was truly something to behold, I am telling you that.

It was great to have all the families come together- but really, all we had to say was rootbeer floats and Aunt Ketchy cake and the place was packed. I really love this family that I have married into, and I am so glad that Wy has a little bit of country blood somewhere in those rolls of chub.

Wyatt had a great time chasing all the kids, eating hay, driving Mia's tractor, and having his first bites of cake. It does this little mama's heart good knowing that one day he will be able to look at those pictures and know how much we all love him. I am still in awe of the fact that he is ONE! It seems like it will be tomorrow when he is asking to borrow the keys to my flying car so he can take his girlfriend to dinner in France (seriously, it's right around the corner). Until then, I will just be loving my moments where I hug him and squeeze him and know that he is my baby boy...forever and always.

Below are a few of my favorite photos from the infamous event...
(I finally found out how to add pictures to a post! Up next: World Peace.)


The Invite

Our little Rascal

See?!! I told you!

Ma and Pa

The cake...mmmmm.

I'm one! Yipee!

No one comes between him and his Wranglers...

All in a day's work!

We Three.