Sunday morning Delilah woke us up saying “I want to see Mickey and Pluto and Minnie and Goofy and talk to them.  And Donald Duck.”

Dee George is really super in to talking right now.  She’s pretty sure she knows all the words and she is just amped up to use them.  She forgoes shy-ness on most occasions in favor of just rattling off all the words she knows to anyone who will listen…which really freaks people out because she’s also still miniature and has very little hair.

So anyway – we took her to Disneyland and she didn’t cry or recoil from her “friends” (what she calls the characters) for a second.  She did however, barely utter a word to anyone BUT Mickey and the gang the entire day while she stared in awe trying to take in all of the sights and sounds and friends the Magic Kingdom had to offer.

[pretty much how Dee looked the whole day, above, seeing Mickey dance about 10 feet in front of her with her big cousin Eves...POV below]

On the drive down, I was gripped with the realization that I was going to Dland as a parent for the first time.  As we pulled in on the monorail (which was AWESOME, by the way – parking in downtown disney and catching the monorail into Tomorrowland gave Dee an incredible view of the insanity before we hit the ground running) my mouth was dry — I think a sense memory from looking down on the dumpsters we congregated at on Grad Night — the most depraved activity the happiest place on earth plays host to (they open the park to about 1000 High School seniors over night.)  And all the while with my toddler on my lap.  And my formerly punk-rock teenaged boyfriend had somehow morphed into this full-blown-man-husband-feather-person sitting next to me.

I mean…It was the best day.  Being a parent at Disneyland turned out to be WAY MORE AWESOME than being a kid at Disneyland.  We strolled through the park with our girl, watching her tiny mind be blown at every turn, and then when we tucked her into bed that night, we got to listen as she finally opened her mouth and let the excitement turn into a flow of abrupt shouts that included “I see Mickey and talk to him and hug him!” and “I show Pooh my kitty!”  (Oh, c’mon you perverts — we let her pick out a stuffed animal and she chose Marie from the Aristocats.)  She’s still shouting about new memories every few minutes.

This morning, as I packed up the final pieces of 2011, Dee turned to me and asked: “Where’s the candles?”

‘Oh, honey – Chanukah is over.  Remember, just like we’re taking down our Christmas Tree until next year.’

But my usually accepting child looked at me with those big baby blues and said ‘I want a green one and a orange one and a blue one and a purple one.’  My cold black heart quivered.  And then she dealt her final blow: ‘PWEEEEEEASE?’

So we lit the Menorah one last time.  In the morning.  In January.  SO NOT KOSHER. 

It was the second night of Dee’s third Chanukah that our first tradition as a trio was born. I told her that dinner was ready and she came into the living room already screaming her colors of choice. It only took me a split second to figure out that she was picking candle colors for the menorah like I’d invited her to do the night before.

I never knew how much it would mean to me to have my little girl love Chanukah.  It’s not even that important in the grand scheme of Jewish holidays, but she found this joy all on her own – and that was almost more than I could stand. Oh, Momhood.

I brought home, then DIY’d up these lovebirds and made giving out candy to the neighbors a new tradition.  TRADITION!

Also new this year?  Sugar Cookies!  I made like, 14 batches, and ate them all.  You know…for Dee’s sake.  TRADITION!

New Christmas Eve Dessert?  GG Masumi brought wontons, and I brought our co-concocted Chocolate Egg Rolls.  I won’t mention names, but they may have been called “Morgasmic”.  Without the M.   {This also means I found new ways to get hot oil burns in December.} TRADITION!

And maybe the greatest night of Chanukah was when Scotty brought home this Tink lamp for Dee, and asked if he could disrupt my (non-existent) gift giving plan to have her unwrap it right away.  She hasn’t stopped talking about it since.

And now…

Here’s to an amazeballs 2012!

Thanks for being a part of our crazy journey!

{And also, I love Instagram.  Don’t you love it?}