This week we went out and got pumpkins. Maren, my little shadow, who I'm confident will blossom into a wonderful big sister when you arrive, insisted that we needed seven pumpkins, not six pumpkins. She picked out a white special little white pumpkin for herself, and she picked out a matching one for you, too. So in a few weeks, we'll carve it in your honor and wish you were here.
Where we live, fall is a beautiful time of year. The mountains turn red and gold and orange, and the canyon near our house stops my breath it's so pretty. It's a season of pumpkins and honeycrisp apples and cool nights. October is when we pick out our Halloween costumes and start making desserts with lots of pumpkin and cinnamon. We even had pumpkin chocolate chip pancakes for dinner on Sunday. In China, I know that the moon festival just passed, and I expect that next October, we'll have moon cakes alongside our ghosts and goblins. I'm not quite sure how it will all work out, this American-Chinese hybrid, but I'm confident that it will work out.
This Saturday, Annie had a viola lesson. The teacher had the students play a song they knew by heart, then tried to trip them up by asking questions. Annie was doing great-- she'd answered a bunch of questions with no problem at all (that big sister of yours is really smart!). Then the teacher asked how many brothers and sisters she had. I expected that she'd say two brothers and a sister, but she said that she has two brothers and two sisters. Even though you're not here yet, you're already Annie's sister in your heart.
This morning Maren and I were at the grocery store, buying bedtime Pull-Ups. We'll be going back to diapers in the daytime for you, sweet Rose, but at night, you'll be in good company with half of the other kids in the family. Maren was looking at all of the baby stuff, and she said, "Rose is so pretty. She's prettier than the babies on these pictures." I think so too, and I'm glad that Maren, at least, is getting comfortable with the idea of you, and isn't seeing you just as the cleft of your lip.
Your crib here in Utah is all set up and waiting. Annie and I set it up last week, and then the girls each added a doll they thought you'd like. Annie added her Ivy American Girl doll, and Maren added the tiny little Asian Corolle doll that she picked out months ago. So every morning when I walk into the room, I feel a little pang. On the one hand, I'm thrilled that you're coming, and delighted that everyone in the family is excited for your arrival. On the other hand, I want you here. Now.
Until next week, my sweet.