Svenska Flika

Check out my little Swedish girl! How sweet does she look in this outfit from my Mormor in Sweden? (The hat is actually from the good ol' U. S. of A. (ahem, made in China) but I think it fits the overall look we had going on.)
 

So I was talking to my mom the other day and she mentioned how she's been chatting with my Mormor (Grandmother in Swedish). Now, my Mormor raised seven kids, so she knows a thing or two about this whole child-rearing thing. Apparently she's been reading the blog and finds it gently amusing that I will get so worked up about various things, like making sure Violet is hitting her milestones or learning to crawl. After seven kids, I guess you've seen it all and you realize pretty quick that each child is different and going to do it their own way. One of her babies, for example, was perfectly content just sitting calmly and watching the action around her, no real need to jump into the crawling stage.

And once again I'm reminded that Violet is her own person and has her own path to walk (or crawl, or scoot). I'm just so excited and blessed that I get to be a part of her journey. Here's hoping she still loves me when she's fifteen and hormonal.

It's weird, lately I've been thinking about what it will be like when Violet is a teenager. She's just so sweet and innocent and thrilled to see me each time I walk in the room now, I have a hard time imagining things won't always be that way. I was fortunate to always have an awesome relationship with my mom, so I'm just assuming it will go the same way with my daughter. But who's to tell? There are plenty of horror stories out there, too. I know it's a little early to start worrying about this stuff, but the holidays are approaching, we're marking the passage of another year, and I'm getting a little sentimental.

(I've also been thinking a lot about baby number two, but that is another story for another day!)