the pit & the peak

When Jen from That's What She Read first tweeted about this link-up with TOATS my mind instantly went to, where else, a movie.  The Story of Us to be exact. This is a movie my parents enjoy and they used to quote a scene where apparently the main characters ask each other for their "high" and the "low" of each day. And that's what this link-up makes me think of. Because of course you needed to know my every passing thought and whim.


So my Pit. And my Peak.

I'll just start out with my pit to get this negativity done with. There could be so many things. The cabin fever that's got me shaking in a corner. Letty's new vocabulary term, freaking. Which I suppose it could be a peak that it's not something worse. The realization that the pair of glasses sitting in the diaper bag since 2009 should probably be worn each and every waking moment. The nasty head cold that snuck up on me. Again. See how easily this being negative thing comes to me? I'll let you in on a secret: it's because I'm a negative person by nature. Anyways. The cold wins. I am mouth breathing as I type this. You've got your visual. Moving on to greener pastures, not of the mucus variety (ew! did I just really type that? Yes. Yes I did.).

My peak! We finally got out of the house and headed toward my parent's for the day yesterday. Letty spent a solid two hours "washing dishes" which is three year old code for playing in soapy water and well. When that was done she was soaked through her top two layers. Thankfully my mother, ever the saver, happened to have a certain gem from my fourth year on the earth:
If you can't tell by the photo quality that would be me on the left, and my Letty on the right of course. After some discussion and searching through photo albums it was decided that I made this in preschool in New York, but that the photo was taken at my grandparent's house in Maine. That I was four. And Letty of course would be 3 and almost a half.

Other things of note? The pageboy haircut was so very much in style in 1987. I apparently wore jeans and turtlenecks even with my tactile issues. I had a very false smile (what else is new). And I loved Fig Newtons. But who doesn't? Whereas Letteria has the most beautiful hair this side of the Susquehanna (just not yesterday, because, play day). She is, as always, in some sort of elastic banded bottoms. She smiles like a champ and poses like models of old.

We both have/had a cute little brother but mine didn't happen to wander on by during the photo shoot like David did. Small until recently forgotten fact: Rob had lightish hair when he was David's age. Perhaps the color is not just Olsen related?

So after all that rambling my peak is this: my mom saved a horrendous shirt I made when I was four for 26 years. My daughter wore the shirt. And Letty asked my mom if I made the shirt for her. As if my four year old self would have had the foresight to make this ugly thing for my future daughter to one day parade around my parent's house in. Good thing I was out of site of Letty. Because such a thought made me get a bit teary-eyed. There were years when I doubted I would ever have a child. Hearing that very child wonder if something was made for her well before I even knew where babies came from.... well it just got to me. My life. That wasn't whole until she was born. My mother had the foresight to save the shirt for my future daughter, knowing someday as mother's often do that I would in fact have one. I sense a tradition starting...

Funny what a simple craft a preschooler made can do to you.