16 going on 17

I remember when I was nothing but a big blue eyed 8, with puppy dog slippers, sipping chocolate milk while staring at our wooden-framed TV, silently confessing my deep devotion to Rolf in The Sound of Music.  I’d close my eyes and want to be “sixteen going on seventeen” so soooo bad.  

I was staying up to the wee hours finishing a project tonight and suddenly had the overwhelming sensation that I needed to watch that movie.  

I will never forget the day that my mom told me that Christopher Plummer was her first crush.  

In those days, we would get out the scrapbooking paraphernalia, pop the corn, and enter into the magically musical world of the Von Trapp’s.  I could sing every song, word-perfect, complete with motions. 

It’s funny how, years ago, I was DYING to be sixteen.  I wanted “fellas to fall in line” while I danced around an antique gazebo in a delicate little baby-pink-nightgown-dress.   

And even though I’m (ALMOST) 22, there’s still a huge part of my little heart that wants nothing more than what I yearned for at 8…to sing around a garden in the rain.  I want to make an outfit out of curtains.  I want to make someone sit on a pinecone.  I want someone older and wiser telling what to do-ooo.  But most of all, I really, really want to watch that movie <3 

Sixteen Going on Seventeen

We Went to the Whammys!!!

The youth pastor at my home church (Berean Baptist in Portage MI - woot!) put on The (First Annual) Whammy Awards a couple weeks ago.  It was a family friendly affair that included spot-on lip syncing, featured ridiculous performances, and guaranteed eye-watering chuckles (guilty!).

Please picture a group of grown men swaying and rockin out to “In The Jungle” or one in a inflatable fat suit, hugging potato chips while singing “You’re The Inspiration” … Too much? We think not.

Then picture a brother/sister combo singing “The Trail of the Lonesome Pine” (I didn't know the song, but someone had a hammer in the performance, so I paid attention!) and later we watched their parents run around with feather boas and swords singing the “Chu-Chi Face” song from Chitty Chitty Bang Bang.

One of my favorites was a Justin Bieber look-alike owning “Baby” with a surprise appearance of a little blonde girly Ludacris, who crushed that bridge-section rap.  What a show!

My family performed “Yakiddy Yak” which we somehow put together only hours before.  The best part was my father’s outfit (I seriously couldn’t talk to him all night because of his hat/shoe/tie combo. Woof.) and the fact that all he had to do was peek behind his newspaper and mouth “Yakiddy Yak” while the rest of us did all the work (imagine that).  He was a hoot while the rest of us juggled props, attempted motions, and pretended to know lyrics.  Somehow we took home “Best Family Performance” and “Best use of Props” … just sayin :)

All in all, I was impressed with this church-centered, family-included, memory-making production…when was the last time the Brittans worked together and produced something fabulous?  History in the making for sure. 

I love when all ages of the church body can get together for good clean fun - I think it’s fellowship perfection, and a little hint of heaven.

Here are pictures from the “Runway” -- I decided to be the paparazzi ;)   

Daddy's Girl

Meet a 6’ 4” big teddy bear of a guy.  His name is Jerry.  I call him Daddy. 
He is an Electrical Engineer, Junior High Youth Group Leader, pilot by hobby, natural cook, husband to Kathy, and father of four.

It’s pretty obvious that since I’m only daughter, I am Daddy’s Little Girl =)

The first time I went fishing, my dad put me in charge of the worms.  Knowing I loved squishing my fingers in the dirt and talking to the little critters - he knew my squirmy friends would keep me occupied for a long time.  The problem came when he needed more bait.  He grabbed the little container from me and started searching through the moist dirt, only to find that there was not a single night crawler in sight. 
“Sarah, what did you do with all the worms?”  
It was then that he saw the last one sinking down into the dark liquid abyss.
My huge baby blues locked with his as I shrugged my shoulders and said, “They were so dirty, so I gave them a bath.”  …what can you do but laugh?

When I was 9, my dad took me to see Disney On Ice.  I remember I was home sick with the flu the day before,, but he still let me go.  Not only that - but Daddy let me have a McDonald’s shake afterwards…as long as we didn’t tell mom.  I haven’t had the flu since.  

When I was 19, my daddy took me on what I consider the best date.  We simply ate at Texas Roadhouse (he calls it Texas Roadkill…not on purpose) and talked about my life, my friends, my plans, and my dreams.  Afterwards we went to Barnes & Noble and where he bought me coffee.  It was a delightful summer night and as we rode home with the top down in his convertible as the stars winked at us. 

When my dad was in college he was as skinny as a rail.  He ate a steady stream of baked beans and refused to go home for Saturday breakfast - the reason you ask?  My grandparents refused to provide him with real maple syrup (his epitome of goodness).  Just like magic, when my grandma bought him some of Canada’s finest, home he came.  I came home a couple months ago for a visit from college, myself, and saw four Starbucks frapachinos sitting on our freezer outside.  I asked my mom if they were for me - she replied that when she had asked my dad what they were, he smiled and said “maple syrup.”

After my trip to Florida this passed week, I needed to be home for a bridal shower on Saturday morning.  Friday night was the Whammy Awards at my church - a family affair I didn’t want to miss.  So, what did Daddy do?  He took off work and flew to the little Springfield airport to pick me up and get me home in time for my family to take home two Whammys! (I’ll explain in my next blog).  As I flew co-pilot, I snapped shots of the world below. 

We caught up on things at home and my amazing trip.  It was unusually windy, which made it considerably harder to land the plane.  As we neared the runway, I continued picture taking - hardly realizing that my dad was holding his breath.  As our tires safely screeched on the pavement, he let out a huge sigh and said, “I can breath again.” 

It’s funny that to me, with my dad’s strong, capable hands - my life is never in danger.  In that moment, the fact that our plane could suddenly get swept up in a gust of wind and crash, was farthest from my mind.  I was flying with Daddy…and I was as safe as I’ve ever been.

Here are the pics I snapped along the way...here comes 5527Juliet to come pick me up =)  

 The inside view

 

Co-Pilot? Roger that.

 Ready for Take-Off

 He ALWAYS goes over a check list - safety first! And silence in the cabin!

 Hello neighbor.

 Up we go!

 Can you find all the windmills???

 I knew exactly when we were in Michigan! How? Look at at all the lakes! (take that OH;)

 Runway in sight.

 Our shadow.

 This is 5527J, prepared for landing.

 Our little plane has been a part of the Brittan family since I was a year old.  What a beat! And a trooper =)

 Daddy and his baby!

 This one was Luke's size...for a while.

 This bike was a huge part of my childhood - we keep it in the hanger to re-live the memories. Remember banana seats???

 He loves this thing...

 Yes, she has a blanket over her nose.  Gotta tuck the baby in!

So you can understand this complex man more - here are a list of his common sayings:

“You’ll get nothing and like it.”

“Go to bed, little train.”

“Do-wee.”

“Well, that’s just great.”

“Would you PLEASE use your brain.”

“Think, McFly.”

“Here she comes, Miss Americaaa” (when I walk down the stairs in my house, he more sings this one)

“Who left the lights on?”

“Ok, you lost me.”

“You kids are spoiled rotten.”

So...that's the one I call daddy.  All in all, I guess I'm pretty lucky! <3