Adios, August!

I woke yesterday thinking it was September, and was a bit dismayed when the calendar on my iPhone told me I was wrong.  So, today, finally, September is here.  I smiled this morning as I wrote out 'September 1' on the check to pay the Atmos Energy bill.  The months that end in 'ber' are my favorites.  I imagine this stems from my formative years when I knew come October, I'd receive birthday gifts, followed shortly by more gifts in December.  The gifts, coupled with weeks out of school for holidays, sold me on the superiority of fall to all other seasons.  As I've aged, my love affair with the fall has grown quite serious.

I love Saturdays in the fall.  It's perfectly acceptable to stay in your pajamas all day and watch football, and if you do have to go out, the weather has finally cooled enough to allow for the wearing of turtlenecks and sweaters, two of my favorite clothing items.  Last fall I was disappointed when my turtlenecks wouldn't fit over my belly, and ecstatic when my mom and I found several maternity turtlenecks that I loved so much I may still wear them this fall.  I'd love to live somewhere cold for awhile where I could wear my turtlenecks & sweaters & my beloved corduroy pants for months and months, but my family is here and I need the humidity to help combat my dry skin.  And, I never want to live outside the South because I wouldn't be able to handle chatter about other wannabe NCAA conferences.  I don't even pretend to be open minded; I would only survive in a red, red state where everyone knows the SEC is king and Obama is an idiot.

I am excited about Reagan's first fall.  I recently bought her her first pair of corduroy pants that I can't wait for her to debut, and I'm on the hunt for some turtlenecks.  

The next four months will be filled with firsts for her.  Her first Halloween (I am debating over a Twilight themed costume or a tiny Ann Coulter suit), her first Thanksgiving, her first birthday, and her 'second' Christmas, but I like to think of it as her first since both of us were decidedly out of commission for festivities last Christmas.  On New Year's Eve, she will attend her first wedding when her Aunt Jessica marries Uncle Heath.  New traditions will emerge this fall and become a part of her childhood she will remember when she's older and perhaps feeling nostalgic because her own child is growing up so quickly.

When I was young, my family always made the drive north to Bastrop on Christmas Eve to spend the evening with the James'.  We did all the things families do when they gather: we ate, we exchanged gifts, we bemoaned LSU's wasted potential.  It was always dark and usually cold when we left my grandparents' home and made our way back to our house to wait for Santa.  We bundled ourselves up, loaded the car with the first round of holiday loot, and looked to our left as we turned south, passing the courthouse the citizens of Bastrop dutifully decorate each year, the Christmas lights multiplied by the car's reflection.  I always felt warm and safe on the Christmas Eve drive home, eagerly anticipating the Christmas Day activities.  We don't make that drive as a foursome anymore, but it's one of the many traditions from my childhood that I cherish, and a reminder of the idyllic upbringing I had.

Reagan is poised, ready to pounce and conquer the changes ahead, beginning with, at long last, after months of 100+ degree heat, GAME DAY this Saturday.  I cannot wait to introduce her to Herbstreit & Corso.

AZ