I'm TIRED!

We've been busy around here, which means only one thing - we're TIRED! Hope you're enjoying the end of the year (and the fact that world did not end on the 21st as predicted), and I'm sure that one day I'll get a long enough nap to blog a big fat post. For now, here you go.


Milo and Nate give this blog (a combined) two thumbs up.

Milo got a Velveteen Rabbit, and he hasn't stopped snuggling it since! Thanks, Dant family!

A very serious conversation with that rabbit...

I've been making hats, and Tree makes a pretty adorable hat model, doesn't she?

This hat has a button sewn on so you can swap out the flowers to match your outfit.

Mommy the Locksmith

My mom loves to tell a story about me when I was just about two years old. The way it goes, Mom had put me and my few-months-old sister Sarah into the car, and then ran back into the house for something. When she came to get back in the car, Sarah and I were both locked in, along with Mom's keys. Woops! We had just gotten a new car with automatic locks, and apparently I was quite a whiz with locking them. The only problem? Apparently I wasn't as good at unlocking them.

Poor Mom stood by my car door, shouting through the window, "Katie, push the button! The little button!" I made a few half-hearted attempts as Sarah started to scream, then interested myself with a small bag of M&Ms that I tore open and began to eat, one at a time. "Katie, honey, push the button." Again, fumbled with the lock for a minute, and went back to eating, unfazed by Sarah's screaming. Mom explained, coaxed, pleaded, and finally shouted at the top of her lungs, "Katie, will you unlock that door? Push the button!" I calmly looked at her and said, "Mommy, I've tried and I've tried, and I just can't." Mom ended up having to call a locksmith, Sarah cried herself to sleep, and I finished that bag of M&Ms and chilled for a while. After Mom cooled off, it became one of her favorite stories to tell about me.

They say what goes around comes around, right? Today Milo and I spent some time playing in his room, and I had to take a potty break. I told him, "Milo, stay here. Mommy will be right back." As I closed the bathroom door, I heard him shut his bedroom door, too. No big deal - he closes himself in quite frequently (and then knocks on the door until someone lets him out). When I came back and turned the handle, though, it didn't budge, and I realized that Milo had figured out how to lock his door. Great...

"Milo, did you lock the door?" Milo responded by pulling on the door handle with all his might and yelling, "Help me help me helpmehelpmehelpmehelpme!" If there's anything that makes a mommy want to rip down a door, it's that. I took a deep breath, and said, "Milo, baby, it's okay. We'll get it open. Can you turn the little knob on the door?"

He calmed right down, and I heard a rattling on the handle itself, so I explained to him, "No, baby, the little knob on top of the big one." Again, a rattling of the handle, and then I heard him go back to playing. "Milo, come here! Come to the door and turn the little knob!" A tiny rattle, and then back to playing.

After a general inspection of the knob, I grabbed my phone, and called the person who always fixes everything. Nate. My call bounced straight to voicemail and I tried not to scream. I called Amanda next, for no other reason than she has four children, and I generally assume she knows how to do everything. No answer from her, either. Then I realized I should have been calling Gary in the first place, so I tried him next. He laughed, offered to come over, and then explained to me what I would need to get in. I promised to call him back if I couldn't get in, and ran for Nate's toolbox, shouting over my shoulder, "Mommy will be right back, Milo!"

I got back with the whole box and tried just about every flathead screwdriver I could find. None of them were small enough, and I tried to explain to Milo again about the little knob on the door handle. This time he didn't even attempt to rattle the knob, and I stopped and thought, "Oh my gosh, I'm totally getting what I deserve right now. I'm so sorry, Mom."

In the end, I finally found the right tool, popped that door open, and felt a rush of pride. Milo looked up from his playmat and toy cars without a bit of concern, gave me a smile, and went right back to what he was doing. We both survived, I learned a new skill, and had a great story to tell my Mom. What a day.

...

I wanted to sit down and write a lighthearted post about baking, cupcakes, and learning my limitations today. I thought it through this morning while I mixed frosting in vivid lemon and royal blue shades. And then my mother-in-law texted to tell me to hug Milo, that she was so glad we were safe, and that there had been a tragedy in Connecticut.

I couldn't have imagined the magnitude, though, until curiosity got the best of me and I opened my computer to the home news page. I should know better. And now I can't stop weeping because we live in a cruel and senseless world where broken families create broken people who do evil things like shoot elementary school students (and their own mothers) on a Friday morning.

So, yes. Instead of writing any more, I'm going to go spend some time squeezing my little man and keeping him as close to me as possible while I can.

Bedtime

Ever wonder how Milo's bedtime routine goes? Well, a few minutes before it's time, I change his diaper, put on his pjs, and brush his teeth. Then we curl up together in the recliner and read a few books. Then Nate puts on his daddy robe, and we all head into Milo's room. Then Milo grabs his blanket, turns on his box fan, and climbs up into Nate's lap. I sit next to them on the ottoman and Milo says his prayers, gives me huge kisses and snuggles, and then I head out so Nate and Milo can snuggle and talk for a few minutes. Have you ever seen anything so adorable?

Hanukkah decorations!

Well, I've been crafting up a storm, preparing for Hanukkah, which actually started on Saturday night. We were all pretty under the weather this weekend, so our decorations finally made it up today. I've seen tons of DIY yarn crafts, including candle holders and yarn balls, so this seemed like the perfect time to make these happen. I didn't put tons of thought into the fact that Hanukkah colors are blue and white, so our home is now happily Hanukkah decorated with blue balls. Hindsight is twenty-twenty, right? Despite all that, I still love our decorations and the warmth they bring to the home.

 

 

Candle display for the dining room table (in dramatic dark lighting).

Blue balls hanging from our horrendous chandelier.

Vase of blue balls...

This J took me (and Matt) half a lifetime. It was not the simple craft I had assumed it would be, but I'm delighted with it now that all is said and done!

Fingerpainting the blues away

Milo is finally on the mend, although he's still not his usual sunshiney self, and I'm still not feeling great either, so we needed something to cheer us up on a Monday morning. I remembered that I bought some finger paints weeks ago and we still hadn't used them, so we had a finger painting adventure today. Mission accomplished - we were both cheered. After all, who doesn't love making a disastrous mess?

I will admit, I haven't posted many pictures of Milo as of late, the reason being the oopsy we had with his latest haircut. It was never supposed to be this short, but situations happen, especially when cutting a toddler's hair. And the best part is, it will grow, and even though I cried about it the night it happened, this sweet boy is still the cutest little man I've ever seen.

Look at that short SHORT hair and those gigantic eyes.

Milo started out very gingerly, putting one finger at a time in the paint...

...had a little green paint make it to the head...

...and finally got adventurous and put both hands in (and all over himself and his chair) while I was running his bathwater.

I will say this - we got the Crayola washable finger paints, and I was delighted with them. They were, no joke, the easiest thing I've cleaned up in the last week and came right out of his cream-colored pajamas in the wash. Guess it was worth the extra fifty cents or so that I paid for them, right?

A week in a list

Well, hi. Here I am again, after another long absence... What on earth have I been doing?

• Caring for the world's surliest little sick man, for one thing...
• Fighting off exactly what he has...
• Entertaining... I think I had four sets of visitors in one day this week...
• Hanging out with my brother-in-law, who isn't opposed to bumming around the house with me,  which is AWESOME...
• Making Hanukkah decorations (can't wait to show pictures of that)...
• Puking myself polka-dotted...
• Eating a lot of cheese and vanilla ice cream (the Sprout likes dairy)...
• Trying to mix compassion with discipline...
• Learning that I am a horribly babyish sick person, and that no one else wakes her husband up in the middle of the night to tell him that she threw up (but I promise, my mom always wanted to be woken up, right, Mom?)...
• Thanking the Lord that Milo has slept until 10:00 the last two mornings, still taken a nap, and gone to bed with very little trouble. Rest, sweet boy, rest, and mend that little body back to normal.

So it's been a hard week, although there's been lots of good mixed in with the bad. But let me just tell you this little story. On Thursday, I finally got Milo down for a nap after a long morning (for both of us), and immediately headed for the bathroom. I threw up and threw up and threw up, cried a lot, and then laid down for a nap, entirely overwhelmed by trying to come up with dinner options when just thinking about food makes me gag. I awoke to a text and a voicemail from one of my very favorite friends (and not just because she did this) - "I made you broccoli cheese soup for dinner, and I'll run it by around 5. Hope that's okay!"

Oh my word, talk about saving my life. This is the same friend who, maybe a month ago, called me on another really bad day to tell me that we should come over for dinner, and that she had made one of Nate's favorite dinners (roast, potatoes, and carrots). Again, lifesaver. I am so thankful for her and can't wait until she gets pregnant again so I can maybe save her life every now and then (or at least have a good reason to snag her sweet little girl and make her hang out with Milo and I).

A few more of Milo's tricks

While I'm at it... Milo has been talking so much lately! One of his favorite things to do is ask if Nate and I are okay, especially when I'm crying (I'm pregnant and have been sick a lot, so it happens often). He also just learned how to say his own name, with a lot of help from his cousin Alex while he was here for Thanksgiving! Thanks, Alex!!!! And he is also in love with the number two, so it works out that he's about to be two at the end of the month. By the way, when in the world did that happen? Time flies!

Breakfast of Champions

I know I mentioned the other day Milo's favorite fruit - blueberries. Well, we finally got him on video talking about blueberry pancakes. I can't even tell you what a kick Nate and I both get out of this...

Blessed

As I sit here, after Shabbat dinner, with a fire blazing in the fireplace and a full tummy, the house is quiet. Don't get me wrong - Milo is definitely running after Nate at high speeds, following him wherever he goes. But he's doing it so silently, and the only thing I can hear is his heavy breathing (his nose has been a little stuffy).

I caught the boys snuggling in the other room, and heard Nate telling Milo tenderly, "Milo, you're my favorite little boy in the whole world."

So I'm teary, with not much to say except that I am so blessed.

Confession time

I have a confession to make.
My son likes boobies.

And by boobies, I do mean blueberries. Remember the good old days when he called them boo-boo-booies? Apparently he decided to be a little more concise. So now he does things like mention to Alex on Thanksgiving, "Akees, eat boobies." Or tell me in the mornings, "More boobies."

I'm sure you can imagine how this should make me feel. I should be more carefully enunciating each syllable. I should be telling him, "No, Milo, blueberries, not boobies." What I should not be doing is laughing, but that's exactly what I do every single time.

This morning it got even more impossible to keep a straight face, because I made him blueberry pancakes, which he then spent the whole morning referring to as "boobiecakes." I'm sorry, but there's no recovering from that one.

And really, would correcting do any good for this little guy who in response to my, "Okie dokie" today told me, "Mommy, I say dokie dokie."

So boobies it is.

New lows in personal hygiene

I found myself in a conversation with myself yesterday that showed me I've sunk to a new low point. It went a little something like this:

"Kathryn Elizabeth Geiger Jackson (it's important to full name yourself, so you know you mean business), I don't care whether you feel well or not. The shower is a safe place to puke, after all. You don't have to wash your hair every day, but you do have to take a shower. Every day. No more exceptions."

Yes, it's come to that.

Thankful

Well, here it is, the Sunday after Thanksgiving, and not a thankful post in sight. Were you beginning to think me ungrateful? Busy, yes. Overly emotional, definitely. But ungrateful? Absolutely not. I've been welling up so much inside with thankfulness that I couldn't quite get my thoughts together well enough to communicate them. So, if you don't mind, I'd like to give it a try today...

I'm thankful for a husband who is always happy to see me, even when I'm going on three days straight in the same pair of pjs... A man who thinks I'm beautiful no matter what, always makes me laugh, and supports me in the midst of every situation. I don't talk enough about him on my blog, mostly because it makes him uncomfortable, but Nathan Allen Jackson is the most incredible man I have ever known. Last night I was a little irritated, telling him, "I'm only 10 1/2 weeks pregnant and I'm already showing," to which he replied, "I know, and I love it."

I'm thankful for my sweet Milo, a little bundle of energy, completely enveloped in such a sweet disposition. Milo is like a tiny little Nate, which means I'm twice blessed, and he inherited his daddy's sense of humor. The other day I was changing his diaper and he somehow got some diaper cream on his finger and put it into his mouth. I made a huge fuss of it, telling him how gross that was and how we don't put those things in our mouths. He told me, as plain as day, "Tastes good to me!" This morning we were reading a book that had a little family of skunks crossing the street. He pointed them out, and I asked him, "What are they doing, Milo?" I fully expected him to say, "Walking," or to perhaps count them (yes, he counts). Instead he told me, "Being stinky." If I could bottle up Milo's sunshine and hand it out, no one would ever be sad again.

I'm thankful for this new sprout that has me thinking of new baby names, looking at baby girl clothes (just in case), and being completely un-ladylike. I'm burping at all hours of the day and night and having such an issue brushing my teeth without puking that I can smell my breath at all times. But when I think of so many people who can't have kids, or who have lost them, I realize that feeling sick means that I know at all times that my little sprout is healthy and strong, growing separate fingers and toes and perfect little ears and becoming exactly what Yahweh intended for our family. Talk about a miracle.

I'm thankful for my family. For a mom who spent most of her life tenderly caring for some pretty amazing (I might be a little biased) kids. For a mother-in-law (whom I really consider just my second mom) who is so wonderful and knows just the right time to text me and brighten my day. For sisters (and sister-in-laws) who share advice, clothes, tears, and laughter (and who will vacuum my house, go to the store for me, and bathe my child when I just can't get up). For a brother who terrorized me the first half of his life, worried me the second half, and is now growing up to be quite an impressive man, and for brother-in-laws who feel more like protective big brothers that have looked out for me my whole life. For nieces and nephews who are brilliant, precious, and special, each in their own ways. For all my extended family and friends who make me feel surounded with love wherever I go.

I'm thankful for a budget that has taught me that everything I need is always provided for, and saved me the time of pining for things I don't have.

I'm thankful for cool weather and the scent of Fall that I catch here and there outside.

I'm thankful for knitting projects and new yarn.

I'm thankful for Bingo on the iPad, although I will admit, Nate and I should never set foot in a casino.

I'm thankful for this gorgeous time with my family on Thanksgiving, everyone tucked in to my cozy living room. Ann and Matt were in from Houston. Mikey was in from College Station. My Dants were in from Colorado. We were all together and I couldn't decide whether to weep or laugh or just sit back and soak it in (I did a bit of all of them). We had seven little Indians, who went on a feather scavenger hunt in the yard to make headdresses (I bought the feathers - don't be concerned. My mother never let me pick up bird feathers my entire childhood, mentioning the myriad of bacteria to be found on them, and I've continued the tradition into my adulthood). Lily ended up with the most feathers, so she told Conner, "I have the most feathers, so I'm the Indian chief." Conner calmly replied, "No, it makes you the turkey."

I am thankful. I am most certainly very thankful.

Wake up

It's been a bittersweet weekend. Beautiful moments with my family, and the heartbreak of losing a special woman and the sister of my dear friend. I'm having trouble putting it all together and processing it, so I'm sure you'll hear more about it in the days to come. Right now I just want to show you how Milo woke up today from his nap.

Happy as all get out, and with a nice case of bedhead. It's moments like these that I especially cherish.

Bedtime prayers

Milo said his first all-by-himself bedtime prayer the night before last. Nothing too fancy. Just this:
"Wah-way, gangkgoo for day. Hep the food. In Shua's name, ahhhhhhhmen!"
Okay, I know. It was more of a mealtime prayer. Or maybe he meant to help the food stay in mommy's tummy, which was a much-needed request. Either way, Nate and I were so proud we had to choke back tears. Watching kids grow up is amazing and heart-wrenching at the same time.

Check, check, check

Here's how you know you are really and truly pregnant (well, aside from peeing on a little stick or seeing your doctor...):

1. You spend 20 minutes weeping over a Pinterest pin of the 40 most powerful photos of all times.

2. You then try to distract yourself by moving to another room and end up crying over your son's two little shoes lying by the door where he took them off himself.

3. You spend days unable to choke down anything more than mashed potatoes and ginger ale, and then find yourself eating four crispy tacos (with beans instead of meat) from Taco Bell at 10:00 at night.

4. You can smell your dogs wherever they are. Even when they're outside.

5. Simple tasks like throwing in a load of laundry become daunting, and spending an hour playing Bingo on the iPad trumps every other activity.

6. Even thinking about going to the freezer to take out some chicken to thaw literally makes you run to the bathroom and puke.

7. Your cheeks are sunken in while your stomach has given up and rounded out at 9 weeks (muscle memory sucks).

8. Texas-shaped tortilla chips taste better than almost anything.

9. One minute you're alert, and then you're startled awake several hours later.

10. Did you forget about the crying? Because sure enough, you'll be all emotional about something any second now...

Okay, checked the list, and all 10 are accurate. Oh my word, guys. I think I'm pregnant!

Milo lingo

One of the funnest things about having an almost-two year old is listening to the new words and phrases he comes up with every day. Like, all of a sudden, he's referring to himself as "me." Today he told me "cars racing" as he moved them all over the table. We looked at pictures from the other day and he literally said, "Daddy, me, bow ties." And the other day he completely astounded me when we looked at a colors book and he said every one, including gray (he previously only said blue and red).

Yep, he's a clever one, that Milo. But I love that he still calls Bruiser "Zoozies," his feet "feeps," and the color red "za." Hanging out with Milo is a trip for sure. I'm thinking a video is going to be in order really soon...

A perfect mix

I always knew Milo would be a sensitive kid, because both Nate and I were (and still are). He recently started really grasping what emotions mean, and as we read a book about a fire truck this morning, I pointed out that he was sad. Poor Milo was heartbroken for this poor truck, telling me, "Mommy, fire cup (truck) sad." He then proceeded to hold the book to his cheek, make kissing sounds, and tell the truck, "Ay-kay, cup. Ay-kay." (Okay, truck.) My heart completely melted, and I had to gulp down tears and pray that he would always be sensitive to others and want to make them okay.

And then, of course, five minutes later he was building block towers and knocking them down as he laughed, so at least we know he's a good mix of sensitive and tough, right?

Look at my boys, all ready for a "hats and ties" tea party birthday celebration.

Cozy up

I remember caring a lot about pajamas when I was younger. I know for a fact that my mom dressed us in footie blanket sleepers until we were well into elementary school, and thank goodness. We grew up in the North, and there's nothing worse first thing in the morning than warm feet on a cold floor. Anyway, something happened around high school or college, and I think it was the fact that people started wearing their pajamas out in public, and they just didn't seem special anymore.

Fast forward a number of years to the precious Dantlets, who rocked pjs, slippers, and robes on a regular basis, and I decided that sleepwear was cool again (mainly for small children). And then came Milo, who wears a pair of footies more adorably than anyone I've ever seen. You know about the Cars slippers that he wears faithfully, and we bought him some big boy, two-piece pajamas with no feet. All he needs now is a robe and he's well on his way to becoming a sleepwear model. He's had lots of practice recently - we've been staying in pjs most of the day lately thanks to the little Sprout!

Just so you know, Nate is standing mere inches from Milo here - I don't just stand him up on the table and hope for the best...

Fresh perspective

I know I've admitted this on the blog before, but when I'm having a rough time, I tend to go on hiatus in every area of my life. I try to disappear until things are going better and I have something to offer again. Have you noticed a little absence here on the blog? I can't lie. It's been an extra-rough bad time, and what felt like the worst part is that I'm supposed to be happy about it.

Do you remember when I was pregnant with Milo? I puked from 8 weeks right on through the entire second trimester (just FYI, most people stop between weeks 12 and 14), lost weight instead of gaining, and spent an entire summer (after I was finished teaching summer school) locked in my house. It was a pretty bad time.

Bad doesn't even begin to explain how the last two weeks have gone, though (And honestly, has it only been two weeks? It feels like it's been forever). Not only have I puked all day and all evening, I've been completely unable to sleep, sometimes puking 6 or 7 times a night until I finally gave in and took a Zofran. But unlike pregnancy with Milo, Zofran hasn't even helped - just left me dry-heaving instead of bringing anything up. I haven't been able to eat anything more than mashed potatoes and ginger ale, which makes me barely energetic enough to roll over, so I've lain in the recliner almost non-stop, lethargically praying that Milo will completely forget this time in both of our lives ever existed. Which brings me to the topper - last time, I just had me to worry about, and if I wanted to lie in bed crying all day, that was my business. This time, I've got a little man who needs attention, love, and to have his diaper changed... It's been discouraging to say the very least.

And then yesterday happened. I'd been up most of the night again, but was trying so hard to wake up with a positive attitude. I had a doctor's appointment at 10 and needed to at least be able to get myself out of the house without collapsing. Nate went with me because it was ultrasound day, and when we finally made it to the waiting room, I breathed a sigh of relief. By the time we got back to the room, I felt so completely peaceful, and when we saw that little baby's heartbeat, something inside me clicked. I might be sick, but it hasn't been without purpose. I'm growing a tiny little sprout that will be here next summer, a perfect little mix of Nate and I. I'm making one of the most precious gifts I can ever give to Milo - a sibling. And for goodness' sake, as wonderful as Milo is, I should be planning to have at least a few more, right? (Well, let's not get crazy. For now, one more should do.)

So all this to say, a little change in perspective can make all the difference. I'm going to keep writing on my blog, through the good days and the bad. I'm going to try to have a positive attitude, but not be afraid to be a little messy every now and then. And I'm going to just be thankful that this time will pass quickly and bring a brand new day.

Dear Nonnie...

Dear Nonnie,
Mommy said that if she has twins, you and Auntie Jen are coming to live with us. Sounds like a plan to me!
Love,
Milo

BIG announcement

Well hello there! Remember me? I used to write on this blog almost every day, and then I took a bit of a hiatus. Nothing scary, nothing bad. In fact, it's a miracle that is so profound it's left me heaving over a toilet morning, noon, and night for weeks now. Have you guessed it?

That's right... Milo is going to be a big brother next year, because I'm pregnant! There is a tiny little sprout in here demanding a lot of attention (which only leads me to believe it must be a girl - haha), and our new addition will be here around June 21. So, happy birthday to me, happy Father's Day to Nate, and happy every day to Milo, who will be the world's best big brother.

Fire station adventure

While we're playing catch-up, let me share a few pictures of Milo's first trip to the firestation! Emily and Lily were headed there on Monday, so he tagged along while I went to an appointment. Emily said Milo seemed a little confused as to why he and the fire truck weren't taking off and driving around, but in the end he couldn't have been too upset, since he talked about the "fire cups" (yes, truck and cup sound exactly the same) for the rest of the day. THANKS, EMILY!!!

Milo and the gorgeous Emily (he LOVES her and talks about her and Lily all the time)

Conner's birthday hat

Oh my goodness, it's been a little while since I've posted. Just working on a big project here that I can't tell you about until next week. How's that for anticipation?
But let me show you a project that I did finish last week - Conner's birthday hat! I saw the pattern online and had to knit it up immediately because it made me think exactly of Conner (whom Milo calls "Hat" since he loves a good piece of headwear).

Long and striped

Milo did want to try it on before we sent it out...

... but it was the perfect fit for Conner! Happy birthday, handsome!



Cheese?

Yet another reason I love Milo... This morning I asked him if he'd like a piece of cheese with his breakfast, to which he replied, "Piece cheese. Of course." Looks like we're raising him well.

Ray of sunshine

It's been one of those weeks... I'm tired, overwhelmed, and have a ton to do. BUT, I've got a pint-sized ray of sunshine to keep me company all day long. Not so bad after all, right?

It just gets better

As always, we just live for excitement around here. And just when Milo thought things couldn't get any better, his Auntie Ann found him a Cars shirt - complete with a picture of Lightning McQueen and a checkerboard cape. He, of course, had to immediately put it on over his pjs last night, and then first thing this morning as well (with his car shoes). So the weekend was a success.

He was trying so hard to be still enough for a picture...

...and it worked for just a second.

Family Photos Part 3 (the final episode)

Just a few more pictures, per Nate's request...

 

Nate LOVES this picture.

And we both adore this one.

Family Photos Part 2

Oh my word, what ginormous company wants to sign my babyson to be their child model?

I LOVE the sweet look on Milo's face. He adores spending time with Nate and I together.

Reminder: All of our amazing photos were done by the geniuses at Harbuck and Co (www.harbuckandco.com). Seriously, go to their website and book them immediately. You'll be so glad you did.

Family Photos

So we had ourselves a little family photo shoot last week at the VFW carnival (Delaney's idea) with Harbuck and Co (www.harbuckandco.com). We had a blast, sliding down the giant slide, riding the ferris wheel and the carousel (Milo's first time and he loved both), and stuffing our faces with blue cotton candy. The weather was hot and humid, but we still managed to have fun, and Delaney and Sarah were fantastic at making us feel completely comfortable (even though we were being followed around the carnival with a small photo posse - no big deal, right?). Seriously, though, who doesn't like to feel like a celebrity for a day? Well, within reason... 

Nate and I are thrilled with our pictures, and I couldn't wait to share, so here you go. Enjoy!

These two make my heart melt.

Happy birthday, Ann!

With all my complaining about the weather, I forgot to mention something significantly more important. Today is my baby sister Ann's 23rd birthday. I still remember the day she was born... I waited at the open window of my 3rd story bedroom, singing songs from The Little Mermaid and simultaneously hoping for a healthy baby brother (who would actually turn out to be a sister) and that I would be discovered as the newest young singing sensation. Even though technically neither of those wishes came true, I'm the most spoiled girl alive to have three (not just two) fabulous sisters that I also consider my best friends. Ann, I'm delighted that you were a girl, that we can share clothes, and that you are such a wonderful success at everything you touch. (I'm also delighted that I had a good reason to make blue champagne cupcakes.) I love you. Happy birthday!

Weather woes

Remember two days ago when it was cold? What in the world? This is the time of year when the weather makes me irritable. Because if it's going to get cold (and really, just chilly), it needs to stay that way for a while, instead of toying with me and going up and down sometimes twenty degrees.

 Anyway, let's live in the past and remember the weekend that made Milo and I wear sweatshirts and frolic outside.

Always moving.

Milo kept peeking his head around this half wall and telling me, "Heyyyyyy."