Angie's BoBloG

a winter-spring promise

2016-02-25T15:12:00.000-05:00

a letter to my son. and to you.

Dear Bobby,

You've been missing me at school the past few days, and although that makes my mama heart feel warm and loved and as you know I always miss you back, I also of course want your days to be simply wonderful.

This morning you really especially wanted to stay home; you were sad and Owie and I were both hugging you and you were loving it and I just couldn't make you go. I want you to learn that it's important to show up every day-- for school, for work --of course I do. But maybe even more important than showing up for our obligations is showing up for each other-- being there for our people when they need us. Recognizing that right now in life WE TOGETHER is what we all need the most a lot of the time. And saying YES to a day of "homeschool" -- playing street hockey and whiffle ball outside before the rain, snuggling your blankie and pretending to read a book while we watch Mister Rogers' Neighborhood, enjoying a snack and poetry together, drawing in journals at the tiny table, maybe a trip to the library this afternoon -- well that may sometimes be just how you need me to show up for you. I want you to know the importance of school, but also the importance of FAMILY and how much you are loved. We will always be here for you when you need us.

Going to kindergarten has mostly been great for you though; normally you forget all about us for the day and have fun with your teachers and friends. And I want to remember, in case we someday forget: walking you to school is one of my most favorite things-- (Just beneath walking you HOME from school of course!) --an intentional pause in the hour's happenings, a breath of fresh air, a stretch of our legs, a chance to talk and hold hands or take pictures or check out a burrow or just be together. And most days we are quite happy but some days are sad and hard and those days are okay, too -- sometimes even better because they give us a chance to really connect and hug it out and for me to remind you that hard things and feelings happen but also they pass by and in the meantime our love is unwavering.

A walk in the woods can cure a lot, my love, and the walks through the frosted field made the first cold days feel quite magical last fall.

It's lovely when the sun still warms the earth during the day; it doesn't last long. Owen and Maisy had some nice times while you were off at kindergarten-- Owie had a chance to be the big brother, Maisy getting steady on her feet following him around.

BUT, they also miss you quite badly when you're gone, and in those early days Owie would agree to his rests so that pickup time would come more quickly and Maisy would try running off to get you hours before the afternoon.

It's been mostly a strange can't decide between frozen and muddy winter, an unsure season and I've never had much patience for February (sorry to Valentine's Day and poor Daddy's birthday)-- never mind this one. When the ground was finally covered with snow a couple (few) weeks ago you had a hard time of it on the walk to school. "But-- but-- the groundhog! The groundhog didn't see his shadow! It's supposed to be spring."

I got down on my knees in the snow and you sobbed in my arms. Because you had taken Groundhog Day as a reputable source and because you'd had a taste of spring and then the promise was snatched away, and it was bitter cold again. And I'd have sobbed too except that I've been around New England winters long enough to know that spring here always has a few false starts, and I've hardened my heart from expectation coming around too early. And also-- there's something about comforting you, my son, that makes me stronger.

We delighted in the February false-spring while we could, and little sister has grown much more steady since November.

I've been known to despair in the midwinter -- and I won't say I won't despair still because I just might, but it's been a mild year and I'm feeling optimistic! And plus... I've had a story of hope lingering in my ears and in my heart and reminding me of the promise of spring and that the promise is about so much more than warmer days.

The story is a children's book (which is good because I don't have much time for adult reading these days, sad to say).

It's called Bunny's First Spring but really it's about Bunny's first fall and winter and the first time I read it I may have teared up a little bit because that bunny was me, frolicking in the summer and getting all fretful in the fall.

And wondering whether the winter might not end, the spring might not come-- or at least not soon enough. The winter can be long. (It can be very long.) The winters of life can sometimes be long too.
But--

Spring will come.
In fact it's already coming before we can see it!

And the sun will be even brighter for our missing it so! It's a promise.

So-- let the sun on your skin be a warm reminder when it's cold and a rest for your soul when it's weary: every winter will be born again into spring, my love. And I'll be close by, frolicking in the summer and fretting in the fall and hoping through the midwinter and hopping into spring.

xo,
your mama.

PS. for all my readers TODAY (since it'll be some years before Bobby reads this probably)... Bunny's First Spring, by Sally Lloyd-Jones --author of the Jesus Storybook Bible (necessary reading), How to Be a Baby, by Me the Big Sister (super amusing NYTimes Bestseller), and a new potty book Skip to the Loo, My Darling (which I am already enthusiastic about). And for the next few hours you can still enter to win four of Sally's books, here. Good luck!

christmas eve {2015}

2016-01-31T23:43:00.001-05:00

[Above: Reading Santa Mouse Meets Marmaduke on some other day. Below: Christmas Eve in the morning.]

It's Sunday, it's the last day of the first month of the year, I haven't finished a piece of my own writing in at least ten weeks, and those feel like some good reasons for hiding away with a keyboard today. I was looking back on a blog post from two Christmases ago and it made me remember how special it is to have the memories time capsuled by the words and photos swirled together. And then I started sorting through this year's photos and I didn't even make it past Christmas Eve.
The anticipation had been building since Thanksgiving and vacation had just begun and in all my life I'd never seen a day so warm in December. We didn't have much on the agenda other than being together and harvesting the rest of our brussels sprouts and watching a holiday movie or two. For the harvest we had two very willing little workers (who also ate a surprising number of raw sprouts).

The oldest little amigo was immersed in his play. He likes to run away from my camera; sometimes it turns into a game that's quite funny and it's a bit of a challenge but I get some great real shots that way.

And he did get the tiny garden workers to join him after a while...

And baby girl has ruined countless pairs of pants, because you never know when adventure will strike.

Pupper is very proud of his little Padawans.

Owen isn't always up for a fight or an adventure, and when he is it makes Bob really happy. Maisy gets right in there too and we all think she's amazing. Babies skilled with lightsabers: super cool or super nerdy?

Letting them run and roam outdoors, following and observing and photographing them -- it's my favorite thing. "Show me a day when the world wasn't new," especially for little ones, and with them too!

To see all three playing together, interested in the same thing and enjoying each other-- that's magic and the very best feeling in the world as a parent. The ol' "ahhhhhhhh, I'm doing it right after all." Which doesn't last long, be assured-- but here's to hoping and praying that all these little moments of connection add up to a long lifetime of sibling love.

And by now I bet you've forgotten that this post was supposed to be about Christmas Eve! When we came inside and day turned dark the excitement reached a whole new level, especially for the six year old in the house. He dressed himself up as an angel (costume based loosely on this video) and went flying around the house.

Maisy wanted to sit sleepily at the table for a while (if I'd left her alone she would have put herself to sleep); Owen quickly ditched the excitement for a long solo coloring session, in true Owie fashion.

The kids got all jammied up and the cousin party arrived just before bedtime. Maisy and Owie were smitten with Erica, and Bob was distracted watching Elf.

We read The Night Before Christmas and cozied the littles into bed (Bob had started fake yawning and asking about bedtime somewhere in the mid-afternoon; they were so cute and so ready.)

And then-- cousin Christmas Eve party! (Plus Dan this year-- honorary cousin :) We tried to play Clue but mostly we just ate and talked and laughed and there were a few rounds of Mustache Smash involved and basically it was all uproariously loud and the kids must have been deeply dreaming of sugar plums because it felt like a miracle that they slept through it all. We set up a couple self timers (because we are awesome like that and that's what we do) and with the iphone 10 photo burst that amounted to a ridiculous 30 or 40 shots, which were obviously amazing and candidly carried out and of which these are a few of my favorites...

We always have a Christmas present project to work on together for the kids... this year we didn't really have one planned but it turned out to be a little spontaneous field trip to fetch Erica's old American Girl doll to make Bob's wish come true. We said goodnight and set up the Christmas morning setup...

And I spied on my sleepers...

And I collapsed into bed. Christmas Day: coming at you hopefully sometime in February. :)

peace,
{just in the nick of time before another month ends}
a.

first snow

2015-11-15T20:56:00.000-05:00

Bob and I have this little "joke" we play out for impending winter weather. He gets this serious smirk trying not to smile face and says in his trying not to laugh voice something like, "Um, mom... I'm very sorry to tell you this, but..." and I'll start with my look of horror and the corners of his mouth will jump up and down as he tries harder not to smile, "...but, mom, it's going to SNOW this weekend." And before he can even finish I bellow a desperate, "Nooooooo!"

Or we'll be playing outside and a cold wind will pick up and we'll look at each other, and he'll tilt his head to the side with his not-smile, and I'll cry out in a moan at the top of my lungs, "Wiiiinteeeeeerrrr!" And the crazy laughter that follows keeps me from crying. And my dramatics are the joke but they're actually not that far from the real sounds I'm making in my own head.

Whereas I am afraid of the cold, Owen is afraid of being separated from his Legos. He is hilarious and in general tries to be a good sport about anything -- declaring that cold snowy weather is his favorite! despite the fact that last winter we could hardly drag him outside until snow turned to mud.

But truth be told, even I can't resist the lure of the first snow. Truth be told again, this wasn't even a real snow, just a dusting. It came down in flurries and then in tiny snowballs and then in bigger clumps, and all three littles were out romping and tasting. Maisy is actually the easiest one out the door-- as soon as I mention the possibility she goes running to the sun room to collect her shoes and coat.

There's undeniable magic in it, that first snow of the year... and snow in general, and water in general! And even I at 31 years and self-professed hater of winter (not necessarily December but definitely January and February... and usually March...) even I can't help but marvel, and get a little giddy, at this particular miracle of our planet.

I won't be the first to say that as a parent the wonder is doubled, but it's true. It's not just being a parent, though-- it's being human I think. It's looking through a lens, it's painting a portrait, it's the recording of scientific experiments or baby milestones.

It's the intently observing of another human and of the earth, of deeply wanting to know more. It's caring for another person or thing, and trying to view things though another perspective. It's taking our new perspective and processing it, and then offering it up to God or to others-- even on Instagram! There are so many ways to double your wonder.

Or triple your wonder, as in my case.

These little humans who love each other just because they belong to each other-- they move me.

They make me open my eyes wide, crouch down low, take a second look at the moment, hold it tighter.

They take me back to my earliest days when the world was so new and that is magic -- but I've found the magic in other experiences too.

I find it in the crunching of leaves and the delight of fresh snow and in the last bit of golden light and in friends to whom I can say I'm lonely, and they'll say I'm lonely too.

Sometimes the magic is in going back in time or catching glimpses of myself way back when... but mostly it's about the present and the magic of them now and the gripping grace by which this life is given me. It's looking into their faces and seeing the wonder of these marvelously new human beings -- and having the opportunity to share in it... my words don't do it justice.

Snow frosted leaves and golden sun but the most beautiful part is my little one.

xo, a.

PS. I recently watched this TED talk which was very inspirational to me and perhaps to some of my words here. So worth your time -- have a watch and become a part of the artwork.

PPS. I really need to move my blog, because it looks simply awful on mobile and I don't even know what blogger is doing to my images. One of these days... :/

the fifth year

2015-11-12T22:24:00.000-05:00

So, I wrote this over a year ago. And I never felt it finished enough and never published it. And now here he is, S I X! Which will demonstrate for you exactly how far behind I am -- just one year and one week! At least we have a number on it! So here it is, unfinished and way overdue but that's how it is these days.

-----

For months, or close to a year really, I've been meaning to write a little snapshot of Bob at four. Well now he's ~~about to be~~ FIVE, so I can put it off no longer!

This boy-- where to begin? Grab yourself a coffee or tea because this is going to be a long one!

Well, for starters, Bob is a teeny tiny peanut-- off the charts small for his age. He's used to and seemingly unfazed by the comments. Every single time we go out we get several inquiries of, "Are they twins?" Usually I reply something like, "Nope, they're four and two-- my older son is just a little small, that's all." (Once in a while when I get sick of the routine I refuse to indulge the questioner's curiosity and just answer a curt "no.") Bob likes to throw in occasionally, "I'm small but I am a WAY better and faster climber than Wooden." It's true; although they're close in size, you can definitely see the age difference in speed and agility. Bob's like a little spider monkey climbing and jumping. "Although I can't climb trees I can climb furniture as well as a bug!"

Owen ("Wooden") is Pupper's best friend and almost constant companion. They've got quite a wide repertoire of games they play these days -- one or both of them will be animals, or super heroes, or doctors occasionally. They spend a lot of time playing with "guys" (like Star Wars action figures or ninja turtles). We have several frequented building sets, and there's a good deal of reading books. They do some drawing and some play dohing. They pretend to camp out or go on hotel trips quite often, setting up a tent or cozy bed in a corner and snuggling their blankies.

Speaking of blankie, she's still Bob's number one. She must be nearby at ~~practically~~ all times. (Since a recent devastatingly unpleasant separation for washing, the "practically" has to be deleted.) Mousey, their third amigo for a long time, has now been mostly forgotten, but blankie is still essential. Bob has this very specific blankie snuggling technique, where he rubs "her" along and inside his ear, pulling blankie through his fingers as he does it so that it's always a new, cold part of the blanket touching him. Don't even joke about taking his blankie; he let Maisy snuggle it once -- an event which was shocking and unrepeated. And then, a few weeks ago, Owen was hurt and Bob rubbed blankie on little brother's forehead; that there is the dearest affection he shows.

If we had to say what replaced Mousey in Bob's life, it would have to be Owen. He almost always wants Owen near. If we're being honest, it's a little ridiculous; Owen sits on a stool in the bathroom while Bob poops for goodness sake! (Or, lately, he sits right outside the door "guarding" blankie; presumably so I don't swoop in and wash it.) They share a full size bed these days, and that makes bedtime almost painless for everyone, almost every night. (Although, I'd say about half of the time, one or both of them still make their way to our bed before morning! Although, in the few weeks since this was first drafted, they've probably stayed in bed three quarters of the time.) If we're being totally honest, it's not just Owen's company that Bobby craves but any company. He just does not want to be alone. Period. Being in the car used to be no big deal whatsoever, but now we have major anxiety over being left in the car.

{Over the summer, I foolishly let Bob hear about how a child could possibly die in a vehicle in the heat. Since then, he will not buckle up until at least one parent is securely buckled in to stay. He'll ask me, "Do you have your purse? The keys? Your phone? Sunglasses? Do you have eeeeeverything you need?" Being left buckled in the car while I run in to grab something I forgot is simply the worst. Here comes a side note to a side note: Once this fall we were camping and getting everyone into the car to head over the hill to the house and Bob was saying "No, don't buckle me in yet!" but Ben and I were each buckling someone on either side of the car and didn't listen to him. We shut the back doors and went to get into the front and-- somehow the doors were locked! Bob's worst fear had come true. When we didn't instantly enter the car he immediately knew what was up and started to panic. "Are we locked in the car!?" See, these five point harness car seat buckles are no joke and when they're pulled snug it would take a Houdini child to get out. There are two buckles: the chest buckle which Bob can easily unbuckle on his own, and the red button on the crotch buckle which those tiny hands could never release. Then there's also a button, down between the legs, that allows you to loosen the straps. Long, knowing looks and deep breaths exchanged between me and Ben. "All right, bud, yes, you are locked in the car. This is not a drill. But wait! Listen. You are NOT trapped in there. If we have to, Dad and I will break one of the windows and get you guys out. Do not worry, we CAN get you out. But we really think YOU can get everyone out if you really try. Okay?" He was barely with me. I told him first to undo the chest buckle, which he's done a hundred times. He tried, but he was just too panicked and thought he couldn't do it, which got him more panicked, which made him even more unable to get that buckle unhooked. He kept getting more upset, and then I'd try to help him calm down enough so he could hear me through the closed windows. Owen and Maisy -- they were completely unfazed through all of this. It became apparent that Bob was not going to be able to get the buckle undone in the state he was in; he needed a confidence booster. Aha! "Okay, Bobby, forget the buckle for now. You're getting yourself too hot and I know just the thing. Let's take off your shoes first. Lift up one of your feet and take off your shoe." But he wasn't having it; he was focused on the straps and freaking out and not understanding why I wanted his shoes off. "Bob, I need you to trust me. I know you can rescue everyone; you just need to calm down and focus. I really need you to take off your shoes now so that after we loosen the straps you can slip out. Your shoes will get stuck. Please-- take a deep breath, and take off your shoes." Finally, he listens. Shoes are off. "Yes! Awesome, Pupper! Now, your chest buckle, you've done this before. Just calmly pinch the buttons, and pull it apart." He gets it. "Yes! Great job." Now he has to be talked through a ridiculous set of steps: Pull your arms out of the straps, lean forward and press the loosener button, lean forward more to loosen the straps, now reach down to the thigh straps and pull the slack to those, (he isn't getting it), okay put your arms back in the shoulder straps, now do you see the leg straps?, pull on those, get your arms back out, pull on the thigh straps again, okay now try to wiggle up and out, no don't freak out I really think you can do this!, push the loosening button and the straps again, you've almost got it! And again and again, until finally, and I'm talking 20-30 minutes later, he worms his way out of the car seat and hops over to unlock the door. A very long hug was in order after that. And an assurance that we would not be buckling Bob in before we were literally on the move ever again. But also: congratulations! Because Pupper saved the day! In the end he was able to calm his fears enough to rescue himself and his siblings and his parents' wallet, and I think he'll keep that little nugget tucked away for himself when he needs it. Phew. That was a long side note.}

Bob's character obsessions these days are ninja turtles and Star Wars. (I'm sad to say I miss the Fireman Sam days.) He loves Donatello and Mace Windu or Princess Leia. Bob and O spend probably a quarter to a half of their play time practicing or fighting with their swords and sticks and lightsabers and guns. We saw a sword fighting demonstration at Harvest Fest last month which worked out amazingly, because after that Bob was telling me and Owen and his cousins and everyone he played with, "I know that real sword fights are very slow like this," and then proceeding to demonstrate proper technique in suuuuuper slow motion. I had to hide my face it made me laugh so hard, him telling Owen, "No, Woody, slower, like this!" or telling me, "Mom, I had to teach my cousins how to sword fight because they didn't even know the right way!" Works for me! (Last night he was explaining this to Uncle Matt. "See, at the harvest festival one of the contests for the big kids was sword fighting and we were allowed to watch...")

Bobby got some money for his birthday and was allowed to pick out a toy. He chose a 20 inch Chewbacca doll; he's been (unreliably) brushing Chewy's teeth, feeding him, dressing him, sleeping with him. Ah, the humor of living with a five year old. I should do a photo series of Chewy's everyday life.

I can't not mention Bob's LOVE for his baby sister. I told him recently, "When you were born, we thought you were the most special baby in the whole world." His reply: "No. Maisy is WAY more special than I am." Lots of baby hugging and kissing and snuggling and adoring goes on around here. (Another side note, Bob's need to dress up as a princess seems to have waned a bit since Maisy's arrival, and surprisingly he's not jealous of all the pink in her wardrobe.)

Speaking of pink, he's still obsessed. Owen knows the drill; they'll be coloring and O will say, "Don't worry, Pupper, I won't use ANY of the pinks or purples." Owen is rather accommodating of his big brother's whims. That, and Bob's just a touch persuasive.

Persuasive and verbose. The boy can talk. And talk. His language just kills me -- his well-constructed paragraphs and sentences complete with parenthetical expressions and analogies. And speaking of the phrase "speaking of," that's a new favorite of Bob's -- I or someone must have used it recently -- and yesterday (or like, weeks ago now) he whipped out a good one. "Speaking of Friendly's-- I mean, speaking of restaurants," (we were speaking of neither) "I see a Friendly's right over there that we could go to." A year ago Bob's mouth couldn't keep up with his brain. His words would get stuck somewhere in between and he'd suck a breath through his teeth making a little slurping sound after every phrase and when he was too excited it would take a while to get his thought out. I didn't want to make matters worse by making him anxious about it, so we largely just let it be, but once in a while when he was really stuck I'd say, "Okay, stop. You have to stop talking, and think about what you want to say; get the words together and then say them." And somewhere over the past year the issue has disappeared. An important key to language development --maybe the most important-- is having an attentive listener. Attentive listening means crouching down, making eye contact, nodding or otherwise showing interest, and repeating back what was said, or once in a while helping put words to a feeling or observation. Just saying. A post for another day, perhaps.

Speaking of ways that Bob is growing, his pencil/crayon work has come a long way in the past year as well. Scribbling and tracing have transformed into actual drawing and writing. It's fun to see what he comes up with. He'll run off for paper and a marker to make signs. Last week he hung a sign on his new fort all by himself: "NO LOU." (Not because he didn't want Maisy around, but because it wasn't safe for her.)

Love this boy -- then and now. Hope to see you a bit sooner with year six :)

happy (super extremely belated) birthday, america!

2015-10-17T00:34:00.001-04:00

Because I said it was blogtoberfest...
Because what's the point of taking all these photos if I don't share them...
Because reliving summer makes me happy...
And seeing these faces makes me smile...
And because the day's not quite over yet {oops that was two weeks ago and yes it is... I can never let blogging interfere with my work time so tonight I'm letting it interfere with my sleep time-- watch out in the morning, family!}...

A 4th of July weekend (ridiculously excessive) photo dump. Internets, forgive me.

Alternate titles for this post:
--How to make your friends hate you by putting unauthorized swimsuit photos on the world wide web
--really!? that was three months ago
--I'm too lazy to sort these photos into a reasonable semblance of order
--#thereareapproximatelythreepeoplewhowillwanttoreadthis
--turning three nights at a friend's apartment into a "vacation"
--how to feed small messy children in a smaller spotless brand spankin new home; or
--picnicking with fabulously stylish and immensely nutritious meals at the beach

I've been rockin TobyMac's new album --This is Not a Test-- on occasion lately so you should probably hook yourself up while you browse. I haven't been following his music for the past 15 years or so but thanks to this new music age I've randomly come back and seriously I just love this album. I'll wait while you go get it or get Spotify or something... ok here goes.

When friends move to the beach you obviously have to go crash their new place with your family of five within a week's time, amiright?! Plans for 4th of July? No? Great! (Just kidding-- we kinda-sorta usually spend independence day with these lovelies, and we knew they'd be terribly homesick for chaos, so it wasn't totally rude. I'd even say it was welcomed. My words.)

So...big beach vacation number one... Bob's favorite thing to do was pretend to rescue Owen. They called it the Save the Owie game and it made Bob all big-brotherly proud and it made Owen lose his nerves around the water. (Owen approaches most of our wet destinations with the declaration that he will NOT be going in the water, but then he always leaves the snacks and gets into the fun eventually of course.) And it's amazing how good it feels to watch your kids have a grand old time together.

My roomie in spirit picked up the camera for a bit (thanks! XXOO ;)...

I reclaim credit for these...
Owen's favorite thing to do at the beach is park it and eat snacks. As soon as the tent is set up, he's in there digging for treats. And he pretty much won't stop til we leave. Well honestly he does leave the food occasionally, but you'd be surprised how rarely. You'd be surprised. (Inside joke. Anyone?!)
Proof that Owie does like the beach for more than the food...
I warned you about the randomness and sheer length of this post, didn't I? Here we are at some bits from the actual FOURTH of July...My three little loves in my favorite outfits ever...When Uncle Same popped out Owen disappeared faster than I could screen-tap a photo.And with THAT, independence day took on a whole new meaning...Which mostly involved costumes.We ate out...We beached it...Hit up the arcade...

Back to the timeshare...Oh, the balcony dining life...Oops now the order gets really wonky and I'm too tired and busy to care-- I think we've got the instagram pics, then ben's pics (thanks, love), then back to the condosharepartment and out on the town for ice cream and fireworks with Santa and Super Mario (just in case you were thinking of leaving)...
O's favorite thing to make with legos: head head head head head head head guy.

My fourth of july garb clearly indicates that I should not be allowed to dress myself.

Hold up... how'd we get back to these!?
Still going? Yep. next day... plum island and packing it home and peace out -- my baby's calling and I'm off to bed so you'll have to finish without me. #didmybest #goodnight #hashtagsarentforblogsactually #ifyoumakeittotheendyouareachamp

Bob's first day of kindergarten

2015-10-02T21:55:00.002-04:00

Happy October! Actually I'm calling it 'blogtoberfest' -- 31 days of bliggity-blogging, that's my goal. Feel free to call me out/wake me up if it's 11pm and I haven't posted yet. I'm sticking to it. (There is a pretty good chance that blogtoberfest is gonna flop but is that a reason not to try? Of course not!)

UPDATE: whilst trying to finish this up last night my computer died. Day 1 = fail. Oops.

Post number one I wrote weeks ago -- the Saturday after the first day of school. Just now getting around to loading in the photos and hitting 'publish.' Glad to report that school's still going swell...

...

It's Saturday morning; we all got to sleep in a little today. Bob came crashing into our bed at some pre-dawn hour and woke up Maisy... and girlie snuggled and boobed around for a little while until she settled in across my face and neck... and somehow we all went back to sleep (except I believe Ben was fragglin). And despite the stiff neck when the Loot decided to get up off me (please read that bit a little ghetto style), I was totally glad to wake up with little can't-wake-up pup's face next to my face, still so little despite his big first week at kindergarten.

Just like the day he was born, I fully expected to ball my eyes out on his first day of school, and I didn't.

Somehow -- how!? I guess because my boy was so brave -- I held it together.

I almost did cry once, as I walked away from the school that first day after having left him there for a big change on his own and I suddenly thought: I forgot to remind him to be kind and brave! And for a second a part of me wanted to run back into the school and scoop him back into my arms and give him one more minute of lovins and reminders. And for another second a part of me wanted to break down at what a failure I had been on the first day. But! I pulled it together and I reminded myself: Silly Mama, that's what these past five years have been for: training him up! He is kind and brave. So of course he will BE kind and brave. He is totally ready for this. And somehow, here I am the mother of a kindergartner, and my moistened eyes didn't even quite cry.

After school he was all smiles -- proud and also excited to see us! -- and my heart swelled huge.

"How was it, bud?"

"Great! Um, mom... could you get my new friend's number? Her name's Alexis and she's in second grade."

Well then.

It was all pre-arranged that Owen and I would bake cookies for eating after school.

The m&m chocolate chip reunion was pretty sweet. And so is my boy.

He's gone off bravely and joyfully into the new world of school and I'm super excited for the ways he's always growing.

PS.I didn't pay much mind to the people who thought Bob should go to preschool, and I don't listen to the people who tell me I should cut his hair. That one's up to him, as was his first day of school outfit. Which was awesome.
And PPS. I still love his hair.

--A.

Live on the Lake in the Berkshires

2015-08-27T16:59:00.000-04:00

We finally made it to Live on the Lake! (For the very last concert of the summer.) We've had it on our list to go but for one reason or another kept putting it off... so last night was our last chance, and nothing would stop us! We met up with Ben after work and I performed an amazing parking maneuver and the adventure was on. Maisy Lou was so happy to be someplace new -- it's totally her jam, just checking everything and everyone out. So content and friendly and fun, this one.

Pittsfield people watching is pretty grand -- I brought my fancy camera fully anticipating taking photos of strangers.

Also spectacular: the Onota Lake sunsets.

And if that weren't enough, there was a bit of divine providence on our timing... look who we bumped into! And, better yet -- got to spend the evening with!! Bobby jumped up into Chloe's arms, wrapped his legs around her waist and his arms around her neck and did't let go for five minutes. I could've collapsed into a puddle of tears, but had my trusty lens to filter the scene through. Oh, how I've been missing this girl.

We ate some crazy good food from Lucia's Latin Kitchen -- and probably I should've taken a photo of the kebobs and rice instead of the empty plates, but I was starving apparently!

The band was Madison Ave (I heard a rumor that the lead singer was the winner of "Berkshire Idol" although I didn't know that was a thing...) and they played mostly (or all) covers, which was cool with me because they finished off with a couple of my jams. (Yup I just said "jam" again and I'm rolling with it.) (And I'm rolling with all the parentheses too because I just love grammar, that's why.)

We got ice cream of course (I think we've each eaten our weight in ice cream this summer-- whoops). Maisy is well-versed in the routine; she starts freaking out the moment she sees the list of flavors.

We lingered as the sun set and walked back to the car, and three fell asleep still slightly sticky in the backseat on the drive home.

Summer ain't over yet -- here's to making the most of our final days of freedom!

happy birthday, gram + #waylatergram {a cali vacation post}

2015-07-27T23:08:00.001-04:00

Ben's grandmother is celebrating her 93rd (ahem I mean 43rd!) birthday today!! Soooo.... in honor of "California Gram" I'm doing a little flashback blog of Cali vacation pics from January. I call these my "waylatergram" pics because they're from the little sony pocket camera which I used to use as my carry-around camera and then never plug in until months later. And here we are, months later. And here we were, in California visiting the kids' great-grandmother. Some previously unpublished pics from the family vacay... (It's crazy looking at these three littles and how much they have both changed and stayed the same these past six months!)

{I've got to interject a couple of comments here... above: Bob was digging the elevator ride to Gram's condo and once while we were all outside he insisted on going up to pee by himself. Afterwards he emerged from the building all Urkel-pantsed and serious-faced and mature. and, below: a photo by Bob. I love these blurry, low angle kid shots -- the very picture of a childhood memory.}

{Another interjection: We were telling Owen about how he was crawling up this lifeguard stand back when he was not quite one year old and he said, "But I still can crawl!" And then he demonstrated as proof that he is still totally cute.}

{Back in January Maisy was content to sit and play in the sand. If this were today she'd be making a bee-line for the water and trying to swim out to sea.}

{My husband likes to A. use all the crazy photo filters, and B. take pics of me breastfeeding in public in order to support the cause, whatever the cause is exactly because I'm always a little confused on that. Here are a couple more for your collection, honey.}

I've got one more batch of Cali photos up my sleeve, featuring a few fun things we did this time around in the Redondo Beach area, so stay tuned...

For now, HAPPY BIRTHDAY, GRAM, from the whole Burgess clan. And, goodnight!
-A.

a rare and precious treasure: maisy lou is one

2015-06-30T23:32:00.000-04:00

Our girl, she's one year old.
Actually she's now fourteen months just about, because I am that slow. Almost two months slow. And I am kicking myself -- so stinking mad at myself -- for not getting here more often to write about Maisy Lou and her first year. But such is life, and I will write what I can.

Part of the problem has been me being busy with other good stuff and part of it's been me dragging my feet about writing this post because-- well how can I do it justice really? How can I hope to sum up our sweet little baby one and this year of getting to know my daughter in mere words? I can barely even begin. It's a good thing I'm here to type and not to speak because my love for this little soul causes a big lump in my throat when I get right down to it.

Right about now Maisy-girl is way too quickly morphing from baby to toddler and I wish time would just stand still for a month or so to let me soak up this stage a bit more. (Or maybe we could rewind just a few weeks to before she learned to brave the stairs and then hit pause, because it ain't easy keeping tabs on that quick little crawling. She's gotten sneaky about it-- instead of yelling at the bottom of the stairs and on her way up --like "heeeeyyy! isn't someone going to stop me?"-- she makes her way up quietly now so that she won't be stopped.) So yes, other than staircase menacing, and bathroom menacing, and lego menacing, and particularly mealtime menacing, I'd say having a one year old around is pure delight.

I think (I hope!) I've got some of Maisy's baby milestones in my journal, but I'm honestly unsure.

I do know that she broke her first tooth at six months, just before Thanksgiving, and the second shortly thereafter, and now she has quite a few and more coming and I've totally lost count. I think she was around nine or ten months when she really started saying 'dada' and 'mama' -- one of my favorite moments, I was holding Maisy and the neighbors were asking if she was saying mama yet and she loudly interjected, "Ma-MA!" Yes I am and this is my mama!! Perfect demonstration of baby brilliance.

Soon after that she added her third word -- "bubba" for "baby" -- she says it for "brother" or "bobby" or "boobies" and even refers to dogs with an emphatic "buh" or "bubbah" now so it's pretty much her go-to these days.

She first started clapping right around her first birthday, and climbing the stairs and up onto the little chairs, and now she is climbing everything she possibly can and trying to climb to places she can't possibly.

Also right around the one year mark... she started needing the pre-bed silly time in a serious way. She wanted to ditch dinnertime early and get upstairs for snuggles and sillies, and she's a little more patient about getting there now but she still won't go to sleep without a good dose of the crazies on the beds first. Before her first birthday I nursed her to sleep pretty much every single night, but suddenly at one she was able to fight it a bit more... Nowadays she has her sillying and her nursing and then Ben rocks her to sleep most nights while I snuggle and story the boys.

Maisy isn't as glued to me as the boys always were, but I do love how she clings onto me now when someone else tries to take her from me, like ummm NO, I am staying right here with my mother thank you very much. Just one of the perks that comes along with the long hours.

I am uber-grateful for Instagram for helping me document these little things a lot more regularly. It kinda --gasp!-- makes me wish I had broken the ol' flip phone a little sooner. Because there are so many things that have slipped away already without my noticing. Like, when did the baby monster start crawling around the floor vent in the hall instead of trying to lick it all day? When did she completely shun all forms of babyish food? I've no idea when she started waving, or signing "eat" with her cutie little fingers. (Blowing kisses is pretty new.) And when did she suddenly change into this little person who can hang with her big brothers?

Maisy's first birthday-- goodness it was a while ago. The weekend before the big day, we had a little celebration out in Red Hook...

{Thank you, Kara, for the pics. And thank you all my loves in RH for the sweet little party and gifts and please just pretend you received the thank you notes and they were lovely.}

And then on Maisy Lou's actual birthday, we had a little celebration at Crispy Cones (which Owen will forever remember as the time he got to play with Duplos at the ice cream shop-- a dream come true)

{Thank you, Grandmother, for the cheesecake. And thank you everyone else for coming and also please just pretend you received the thank you notes and they were lovely.}

These one-year-old days are sweet I tell you, and I am cherishing them.

Watching our girl learn and grow--climb and draw and sword fight and laugh and joke and discover and explore and try new things--and never ever question whether she is enough: it's the most beautiful treasure to witness. Her little body--her strong and mushy and delicate and beautiful body--is the most precious treasure to hold. And her spirit--which burns bright in her eyes and right into my heart--is a treasure straight from heaven.

Having a newborn is the luckiest. But having a one year old is the best.

Thanks so much for stopping by... leave me some love if you're glad you did.

xo, a.

Area of respite

2015-05-20T00:36:00.001-04:00

I'm blogging from my gadgetydoo right now-- a test run. We'll see how it goes. All of these photos were taken with and edited on said gadgetydoo so again, we will see how it goes.

In honor of our first day as free beings (if you're not with me on Instagram, we got a second car! we're no longer to be total homebodies four or more days a week! Exciting news) we checked out someplace new...

I've passed by this bridge so many times but never bothered to stop until today. You get there from a picnic/rest area on route 7 in lanesborough, so close to my gram's that it's both ridiculous and the reason I've never had reason to rest there I guess. It's a nice little road through huge trees to a little footbridge over a creek. The perfect mini adventure for three mini people and their mama. A respite from the usual, if you will. And it's good to remember, because I can tend to forget, that a respite from the usual is good for body and soul.

Maisy Lou, we call her adventure baby because, well I'm sure you've gotten the gist of it by now. She wanted to crawl across the bridge, back and forth again and again, giving me a heart attack a minute. I tried to keep my feet astride her in case of a sudden lunge but it didn't much matter; she knew what she was doing. She loves to explore a new place just as much as the boys. And almost as much as I do.

Area of respite for the win. G'nite.

--Angie.

how motherhood changes us

2015-05-10T23:11:00.000-04:00

Why are children such a blessing?

Because their little laughs and tiny voices and sweet faces fill our homes with so much joy.

Because their cries and constant needs teach us compassion and selflessness.

Because their mirroring personalities encourage us to become better versions of ourselves.

Because their love for each other, and our love for them, give us a greater understanding of God's love for us.

Our nieces and nephews, they change us, because they give us the first glimpse of parental love. Our hearts swell with pride as we feel we would do anything for these little people who are at once living ghosts of our own childhoods and bright shining hopes for our futures. We love them more than we've loved anything before.

And then... our firstborn children, they change us in a way that, even after all of the warnings, we never saw coming, because they fill our hearts with a different love we didn't know before and our hearts literally (ok not literally but in the most real spiritual sense) explode. And our one little child is the most precious gem in the universe and we can't imagine ever loving anything else that much.

And then... our second children, they change us by making us realize that yes, we can love something (someone) else that much. That lo and behold, although it seemed impossible, there is room in our hearts for another. That maybe there isn't just one most precious gem in the universe after all.

And then... our third children, they change us in perhaps the most meaningful way of all, because they make us see that all children are the most precious gem in the universe. They all matter, they are all unique and special and irreplaceable children of God. Every single one. Not just ours, but yours and theirs.

I am so thankful for this motherhood and how it's changing me. Happy mother's day to all you mamas, wherever you are on your motherhood journey.

xo, a.

quick-like before april is gone

2015-04-30T23:48:00.001-04:00

My goal was to write eight blogs this month -- I know, lofty considering my track record so far this year and obviously not gonna happen, people.

But, I'm telling myself, you can turn four into five if you just go for it right now and write something. Don't put off writing for one more day just do it.

So, what's going on round here...?

Well, you may have heard a rumor about how my flip phone got killed. It was a significant day because for every bad thing I've said about smartphones and every time I've announced how cool my flip phone made me, the day I actually joined the twenty first century was bound to be a significant day. Actually it was the next day when I sauntered into the Verizon store and demanded my very own iPhone (or something along those lines). And I am not proud to say that I was 100% addicted the moment my new golden device touched my palm. I don't think I have touched my real camera once since then, and I don't even know what my kids look like in 3D anymore because I only see them on a screen. It's so dang pretty and I'm pretty much in love.

Now I'm instagrammin' (probably a little too much -- what are the rules??) as you may have seen over there on the right somewhere. I've also got a new little gig working with Sally Lloyd-Jones (yeppers, the author!) doing all sorts of new fancy things like tweeting which I am most certainly still trying to get a handle on.

So yeah, I'm basically a whole new person since I last wrote.

I haven't really the time before April ends to export and upload photos and all that business, but you can follow me on instagram to see what we've been up to.

And I can leave you with this -- a link to Sally's site -- because if you don't own the Jesus Storybook Bible and Thoughts to Make Your Heart Sing, well you really should. And I'm not just saying that because we're besties.

G'night + happy May!

easter {2015}

2015-04-24T22:14:00.001-04:00

Yes, yes. I know Easter was three weeks ago. And yes, I'm going there anyway. The good news is: I'll spare you any long drawn out stories and stick to photos and captions.
The day before Easter, we had a fun little family day with us five plus Bailey. We walked up the road to Shawn Jr.'s sugar shack.

Fresh warm maple syrup + waffles + ice cream = yes please.

Watching Shawn add wood to the fire // Owen having a close call with his melted vanilla...

Walking home...

We did some egg coloring because we love fun like that...

We tried a new method of shaving off bits of broken crayons and then swirling the shavings with freshly boiled hot eggs in bowls, which turned out pretty sweet...

And we went the traditional dunking route as well.

The boys snug in their bed on the night before Easter...

Easter morning with my baby girl and her new "bubba"...

Driving out to Pop Pop's...

The boys in their Easter "suits"...

And Maisy Lou, she wore a mismatched outfit she's worn a dozen times before... I think I packed something nice-ish but babies are messy and I just never did put it on her...

We colored eggs again, this time with the New York crew.

We saved our orchard egg hunt for the next day when it was a little warmer.

The kid lineup...

We stopped halfway home to stretch legs and grab coffee and make good on our promise of a "peep and donut picnic" (Owen does not like peeps; he reached in to grab one and it stuck to his finger and startled the crap out of him.) Maisy had some little baby snacks.

And that was that. Exciting, huh? Do you love when I end my posts with "and that was that?" No big life lesson learned, no sentimental wrap-up. Just: that was life how we lived it that one day and now it's another day. The end.

happy weekend!

"better late than never"

2015-04-15T08:46:00.001-04:00

That's the old adage we're forced to adopt around here with regard to spring, I guess. But now, at last, it's here; we've just enjoyed our first two warm days since October, and we're all twitterpated. I was saying to Bob how much I love summer and he said, "But not as much as you love me and Wooden and Maisy and Dad!" I quickly agreed aloud but inside I was taken aback; what if I had to choose between my family and the promise of summer? Faced with endless winter, I might just have to find a new family... but shhh don't tell them that. Since this is entirely hypothetical I can confidently say: of course I love my family more than summer.

Afraid to show insufficient appreciation, we spent the entire first warm day outside soaking it up -- we were out by 8:30 and didn't spend more than an hour indoors before dinner. We took two walks to the mailbox, ate two sets of ice cream cones (morning and afternoon, because we're just so happy it's ice cream season), found a wooly wooly bear, had our second (and much more enjoyable) picnic lunch of the year, blew bubbles, rode bikes, fixed up the tree fort in the woods, drew with sidewalk chalk, visited the neighbors, flew our kite. Maisy Lou likes to ride in the stroller, but she really loves to crawl around in the mud and grass, checking out leaves and searching for dirty snow piles to eat. She was chasing Bob all around the yard trying to get his baby doll as he was trying to keep it away from her. We're going to have one dirty baby around here until this girl learns how to walk!

Photos from our first warm day, a good day...

Happy spring!

emmy {1}

2015-04-10T15:19:00.001-04:00

After all that, there doesn't seem to be much need for words! Sweet Emmy is the daughter of an end-of-college/post-college roommate and dear dear love of mine, Yorgos, and she just turned one. Her mama Erica is a super talented florist and put on a really sweet party {see detail photos here on Erica's site}. There was so much food that Erica filled doggie bags for my kids... that last shot of her is one Bob took while waiting for his goodies.

Emmy is about seven weeks older than Maisy and this was their second play date; I like to think they'll be great friends one day. Maisy received a very informative stair climbing lesson, "a tiny person like me can do that!" being the main information transmitted, I think... enough to inspire her up onto the first step.

Bobby and Owen both fell in love with Emmy upon first sight, as they do with every little girl; Bobby promptly renamed his baby doll after her.

Emmy, thank you so much for having us at your party! We love you!

red hook love

2015-04-02T19:45:00.000-04:00

Last month we went out to Red Hook to spend a night with Cass and Kara and Lincoln and Shea (our BFFs and second family). The boys think Lincoln is hilarious (because he is) and they both fell equally in love with Shea now that she is less of a baby and more of a little girl. On our drive home, this exact conversation ensued:

Bob: "Mom, I want to tell you something; I bet Shea misses everyone right now. And I miss her."

Owen: "And I miss her too, and -- she's my very best friend. And this -- " (pointing to Maisy) "is my beautiful puppy."

Maisy, she had a blast following Shea around and playing with all the toys -- guys, guys of every size, a little person's delight.

Ten months, two teeth, one hand, and this girl could not be any happier or cuter.

I was uploading these photos and Bob climbed up on my lap to admire the sweet Maisy Lou. I asked him if he wanted to write my blog for me and he said yes...

Maisy was very cute at Lincoln's house. Wooden loved to play with the ninja turtles there. He had Raphael and Michaelangelo. And I had Donatello and Raphael. Because there was two Raphaels there. And Maisy was the cutest of all. And Shea was just a tiny bit lower for the cuteness because Maisy Loutie is the cutest of all. And Lincoln was very funny.

This girl is stinkin cute. It's no wonder Wooden was in love.

Trying to get a group photo, waiting for Bob...

He finally agreed to let his body participate, just not his face.

Not sure whether this expression (below) immediately followed that kiss (above).

More Red Hook weekends {here} and {here} and probably elsewhere.
We shall miss you until we see you again, loves.

tuck: the dog that made bob want to be a dog

2015-03-31T20:11:00.002-04:00

Friends of ours lost their dog recently -- due to lyme disease and kidney failure they had to put him down and I know it was terribly heartbreaking. His name was Tuck and he was such a sweet dog -- the dog that made Bob want to be a dog. I posted some photos of their friendship on the blog way back when Bob was a baby {here}. And that got me thinking about how I had never done anything with the pictures I took when the Cooks stopped by at our place in Pittsfield a few years ago, back when Owen was looking like this...

(Bob saw that photo and said, "Oh! What a cute little chunkster!" My thoughts exactly, pup.)

It was a rainy day but we played outside anyway. Bob chased Tuck all around the yard...

... and tried to play fetch...

... and got licked in the face.

He and Aaron hit up the swings...

... and the puddles.

Such a little cutie, this guy! Of course, he's no baby anymore.

The first thing Bob did after Tuck had gone was ask for a bowl of water to drink on the floor. And that's how he took his water or cereal or anything I'd let him eat that way for... I don't know, a year. He named himself "Pupper" soon after. And that's that -- the story of how one great dog made my son wish he were just as great.

We love you, Cooks, and Tuck, you won't be forgotten.

on substitute teaching and time travel

2015-03-27T13:30:00.000-04:00

coming home from my first day of kindergarten

field day!

over-under with my matching shades and scrunchie and my bestie behind me

my third grade teacher, Mrs. Brown, was one of my favorites

fourth grade I think?

after 5th grade graduation

So... I mentioned that I've done a little substitute teaching lately... Did I mention how much I love it? I just told Ben that I want to become a professional substitute. Maybe once they catch on to how amazing I am they'll double the pay and then that might be feasible. But honestly I'd pretty much do it for free because it's that fun for me. (And honestly they've already caught on to how amazing I am.)

My very first day could not have been more perfect. I took a job at my own elementary school; I ended up being assigned to cover third, fourth, and fifth grades, in three blocks. The way the schedules were arranged I ended up having six different classes, so I met a lot of kids that morning. And I happen to really like kids, so I really liked them all. Or most. There was the one kid who spun his computer around until it came unplugged and insisted he typed better with his keyboard in a vertical position. (Luckily I'm accustomed to dealing with technology shenanigans since I'm currently raising my second three year old.)

Some of the kids were pretty funny; this one fifth grader, a black boy who already had about a foot on me in height, was asking me, "Are you from the 90s? Were the 90s cool? What music did you listen to? What did you watch on tv?" After a good class conversation on those topics, I tried to get him to hone in on finishing his work and he said, "I just really like talking to you. You seem like a really good and cool person." Gee, thanks -- right back at ya!, I told him.

Just being in that school building again, for the first time in so many years-- it was like a time machine. Ben and I read this weird novel a while back, Time and Again, actually I didn't even read the whole thing because I just found it so ridiculous and storyless... basically these people would go into an old building dressed in period clothing and just act old fashioned by smoking a pipe or eating gruel or whatever and somehow they would travel back in time for real. I don't know, like I said I didn't even read the whole book, but the point is, I almost want to check it out from the library again because that's almost like what I experienced. Dudes, I traveled back in time.

I got to sit in on part of a music class with my elementary school music teacher, and she remembered me and I hugged her and when I left to cover my next class I sang, "Goodbye, everyone," and they sang, "Goodbye, Mrs. Burgess!" (The music teacher got married back when I was in elementary school and became Mrs. Burgess and now I'm Mrs. Burgess and it was just crazy.)

I touched the worn wooden doors to the wardrobes where I hung my coat and backpack every single day. I hadn't thought about those coat hanging areas probably since I left fifth grade and moved on to the much more sophisticated world of lockers. And standing there in the same spot some twenty years later, a flood of moments rushed my mind; I was my eight year old self again.

I went through the backstage door at the top of a wheelchair ramp which used to be a set of steps and out onto the stage and looked out over the empty gymnasium and I was transported -- to my kindergarten play, my fifth grade play, the roller skating dances, basketball gym class. The time travel sensation was so real it took my breath away.

Oh, and to cap off the first day: there were boxes of withdrawn library books in the computer lab and I scored some serious gems, including Encyclopedia Brown #6, a book I most definitely borrowed myself back in the day. There are still cards in the books -- the public library has done away with them and I had all but forgotten how we used to write our names in the spaces and give them to the librarian to file away after she'd stamped the card pocket with the book's due date.

My next day was with sixth graders at my old middle school. I traveled the hallways a little; I went up the brick-lined stairwell to my class. Before I left I went into the auditorium and onto the stage and played a little ditty on the marimba. I felt almost like I would time travel again, but the conditions we're quite right. I think I realize now that it's not enough to survey a room; transcending time requires you to stand in just the right spot, your conscious halfway between the present moment and a daydream.

One day I covered for first grade where my niece goes to school and got to have lunch and recess with her. That was the day a first grader complimented my hairstyle and I realized, This six year old is the only person who has ever complimented my hairstyle. I think I belong here. Another day I did elementary school music where I sang songs and played the recorder, and during my "lunch" I had a solo jam on the xylophone. I was so awesome that they keep calling to try to get me back.

My most recent gig was as middle school gym coach, in my old stomping grounds at Reid. Down the steps, into the locker room-- I was time traveling again, to those awkward days of training bras and first periods and changing clothes for gym. And then I got to spend the day playing badminton with seventh and eighth graders. Seriously, what could be more fun than that? How could you possibly beat making a living playing middle school PE class badminton? It was so fun, I was genuinely disappointed that Ben got called into work and I couldn't go back the next day. I was so ready to take some more kids down on the court.

But honestly, as much fun as I had, I love being home with my own kiddos even more. Today (day before yesterday now because that's how it goes with getting things finished around here) was like the first day of spring (despite the foot of snow still covering the ground!) Ben was off working so I was home, and we were out walking and riding and playing in puddles and it was good to be in the sun! I made a periscope with Bob; I had a dance party in the kitchen with Owen; I snuggled my baby to sleep for her nap. I gave them all a bath after they got good and muddy. I read poetry by A.A. Milne aloud to the boys. I kissed hurt spots and hugged away sad feelings. I encouraged my littles to work out their disagreements together. I took deep breaths when my patience was tested. I tenderly changed dirty diapers and underwear. I've totally loved my teaching experience, but home is definitely where I feel most needed these days, and I am totally happy with that.

Now for some photos from our first two days of spring, which were wet and muddy for sure. At first Maisy was content in my arms and in the stroller, but then she was doing the dive and crawling off the picnic blanket (first picnic of the year!)... I ended up putting her in an old snow suit of the boys' so that she too could get down in the mud. This girl is going to have quite a summer trying to keep up with her brothers!

Happy weekend, happy spring!

february.

2015-03-18T12:36:00.001-04:00

January took a bit of a nasty turn on us at the very end -- some kind of bug which I'm guessing originated with the boys licking chip crumbs off the tray tables on our flight home from California and ended with rough times around here. I had plans for a friend meet-up and I was not going to let a little puking stand in my way again, so Maisy and I headed off for New York and had a great time catching up with the college crew. (Except that the bug did catch up with me, on the drive home. Picture yours truly throwing up on the side of the off ramp at one AM in the middle of nowhere. Margaret, I will not be needing the recipe after all because that soup is ruined for me.)

February was a good slow cold cozy month -- a nice change of pace and needed family staycation. It was a lot of the same on repeat... some days spent at home hibernating indoors and never changing out of our pajamas, other days venturing out to the library and the grocery store or a stray appointment, or sometimes playing out in the snow but to be honest not all that much because Feb's temps were a hard sell for the little boys and the parents that have to dress them.

Here's regular old everyday February, in photos (a lot of them, just to warn you) and words (which may or may not make sense because this post was written in about forty five separate sittings and proofreading has gone out the window and I'm running on less than optimal sleep and I think maybe a part of my brain is frozen.)

Snow, snow, cold, cold, and Owen is not a fan. He bundles up like an Eskimo to go out and then cries because his mitten hands can't hold onto anything very well.

I'm pretty much glad the bottom half of this already ridiculous outfit is cropped out.

Maisy loves to go outside more than any of us; here she's all bundled and cute and ready for action.

It's funny because last winter I was pregnant and could not stop eating snow and this winter -- meh, don't even care. But I love this shot of Pupper's little tongue licking up some crystals mid-climb.

Back inside, we warm up with hot cocoa and a little art. Maisy loves to hang at the table with the guys. This little seat has been great, but it gets really nasty with food mush... I think we need something easier to clean!

Owen is usually up for any sort of table activity...

Bob is often a harder sell. But when I'm determined I'll declare art time and coax them to the table with mini marshmallows floating in warm chocolatey milk, and let them choose their mediums, and once Bob gets started he tends to zone right in with determination that outmatches mine.

This one particular day Bob did dot markers and Owen did watercolors, and then they swapped. Bonus points for the daily double!

Owen focused in on his scissor skills; Bob developed his brush technique painting circles, of various colors no less!

Triple bath time is now a thing -- pretty much Maisy's favorite thing ever.

On the really cold days, the bundling and unbundling of three kids takes more time than we actually spend outside, hence all the February days we spent in our pajamas without leaving the house. This right here sums up a lot...

On the days when the sunshine is sufficiently beckoning, though, we do have a good time. Ben shovels the snow into paths and forts and slides, which the boys enjoy or ignore on their whims. I carry Loutie around in the Ergo or plop her down into a little snow seat or pull her in a little sled; she loves outside time almost as much as bath time.

Can you tell I love her just a little bit? I could hold her for a million years. And how do you like that mother-daughter infinity scarf wrapup?

Snow land would be amazingly fun if it was just a place to go, and it wasn't your real life that you have to live every day for five months.

But even I have to admit, it sure is beautiful when the sun comes out.

I don't think the photos are doing justice to the snow features Ben has created... We've got a path leading to the main igloo complete with two slides at the back entrances, and a spiraling path which leads to a smaller igloo at the center, and most recently we had a tubing track coming off the front porch and swooping around into the big fort. (After the weekend rain, I think we're in for some repairs. Or better yet, spring come on down!)

Some inside days include fort building, of course -- a classic staple of childhood which brings great joy to recreate as an adult. A fitted sheet stretched over the backs of the couches is easy to build, hard to mess up, and doubles as a little person hammock. We're all about fun around here.

Private puzzle time has made the number two business much more tolerable for O.

Also helpful is company from baby sister, and she just so happens to love a chance to menace around in the bathroom.

It took months, but we finally filled the marble jar!

Once in while I'll send Bob up to greet Maisy when she wakes from her nap, to keep her company until I get there. Sometimes I find them snuggling, sometimes Bob can't resist the urge for a little photo shoot. I know the feeling, bud.

We've been trying to hang out with these two most weekends. Isn't my little bro a cutie pie in his new glasses?

Maisy has a favorite book from the library -- Where is the Baby (by Cheryl Christian). She loves for everyone to read it to her and it's totally sweet how she looks eagerly at your face and then at the page and then back and back again, so excited to see the babies under the flaps.

We rearranged our living room furniture in February. It's funny how just moving some things across the room can make them more interesting. These three, they play so nicely together most of the time. I'm so thankful for their sibling love.

I already mentioned how much this Maisy girl loves her baths. When she catches the bathroom door open she makes a break for it and, after a little menacing of the potty and the toilet paper stash, she pats the side of the tub eagerly like, "How about a bath, please!?"

We did a little rearranging of furniture upstairs as well -- replaced the crib in the boys' room with a reading corner and moved the crib into our room to recreate the superbed.

Owen's super serious Jedi face.

One day, we parents weren't getting on the lunch making quickly enough so Bob took matters into his own hands.

Another day playing outside with James and Bailey...

At the end of the month we went out for lunch to celebrate Ben's and Cass's birthdays and this was one of those good times. Sometimes after eating out I get serious buyer's remorse -- we spent way too much money and it wasn't even that great -- but not so this time. Hops & Vines in Williamstown had great food, great beer selection (I had a Glassbottom Tea-SB), great service, great atmosphere. We happened to end up there at 2:30 on a Tuesday; I was super pleased that they were even open. On weekend evenings I see that the place is packed; on this day it was empty, which was perfect since we brought all the kiddos. I let Owen try a sip of my beer and when I wouldn't give him more he cried, "But it was so gooooood."

So, that was February in a nutshell. Like, a really big nutshell. March has been busier -- more friend time (my big resolution, remember?), some nights away, and I've started doing some substitute teaching. That there is some good stuff which I'll have to come back to. But for now, I'm outta here. Hope your February was spectacular, and I hope your March is too. Tell me: do you think spring will really come again this year?

three!

2015-02-23T09:12:00.000-05:00

Guess who turned THREE while we were in California? (A month ago; I'm slow.) It was this guy!

first thing on his birthday morning, saying "I'm thlee!"

Owen was so very excited for having his birthday in California. There was much anticipation leading up to the trip... Owen's mantra was, "When we get to California it's going to be my birthday!" We kept trying to explain that his birthday would be three days after flying day, but he wasn't having it. "When we get to California it's going to be my birthday!" Yes, buddy. We shall celebrate you all week!

When asked what he wanted for his birthday, his reply was "oatmeal for supper." Anything else? "Cake." Are there any presents you have in mind? "Three puzzles -- teenage mutant ninja turtles, star wars, and super mario bros." So I ordered three puzzles on amazon and had them shipped to California Gram's and on his birthday morning they were in the hotel room waiting to be unwrapped. He went straight to work.

We had a nice little hotel breakfast of waffles and fruit.

Then we went to California Gram's for the day.

Remembering Fruit Loops from a previous hotel stay, Owen couldn't survive his birthday without some.

We went out to the pool for a swim... in January, by the way. Owen was hesitant at first. We haven't swum (swam? swimmed?) here in months, so he had to ease his way in. Maisy went right for it; she was trying to dive her way into the pool from the moment she saw it.

Some people -- the birthday boy in particular -- needed a little rest after the swimming and before the party, so we took the littles for a scenic drive.

And I wanted an iced coffee, so Ben pulled up to a Starbucks. And I'm not sure I have ever been inside an actual Starbucks. My first trip to the 'bucks had me laughing to myself like a lunatic because... One, I ran in thinking the five dollar bill in my pocket was going to buy coffee for two, and Two, because even though I was the only customer in sight the two male baristas followed every service protocol including loudly calling out my order when it was ready even though I was standing right there, and I was the only one standing right there.

O stayed asleep while we carried him inside, and truth be told he could have slept for the rest of the night, but we had to wake him for the long awaited birthday party!

He opened cards and presents in a bit of a daze, then slowly woke up and played with everything right away.

A sweet friend of Gram's gave him this Thomas bubble blower which served perfectly as party entertainment.

There's my love, drinking on lifeguard duty, and he deserves a post all his own because last week was actually his birthday! But let's be honest, he won't get one because I am way behind here. So, suffice to say: I love this guy and I love doing life with him. We're not old yet, honey! Many more birthdays to celebrate.

And I love doing life with this little guy also. He's such a sweet person, usually just goes with the flow, Bobby's little parrot copying everything he says and does, always good for a hug or kiss fight. We both cherish our "snuggle party" every night after silly time and book and story. He lives these days for puzzles and play doh, Star Wars and Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtles. His play lightsaber and ninja weapon fighting is pretty hilarious; he reminds us of the leaked home video of George Michael Bluth (Arrested Development, people... if you don't know what I'm talking about then watch it.) He loves to eat, especially breakfast, so much that for most of his two-dom he spent most of many mornings at the table asking for more and more food straight through 'til lunch.

And he is very excited to be three. This might be one of the best birthday ages -- able to anticipate the joy of cake and presents, but not yet sucked in by greed; still thrilled by the simplest of things -- a floating balloon, candles lit, clouds of bubbles for popping, birthday cards with five dollar bills inside, construction paper signs taped to doors, and the question, "Wait, HOW old are you!?"

He's got a great sense of humor, this guy. Every day he makes us laugh out loud and Ben and Bob and I will look at each other with knowing smiles -- Aren't we lucky to have such a funny boy in our family?

On the same day Owen turned three, Gram's friend Al turned ninety three. Crazy to think what's in store for O's 93rd birthday... I like to think I'll be there with my head attached to a robot body. Just kidding-- I stole that from Donna. (Parks and Rec. Come on, get with my tv references, people.)

We lit the cake up twice, because three year olds really like to blow out their candles, and because Bob wanted to capture the moment on his cell phone camera (he has inherited an old phone of Ben's and is stocking it up with photos and videos and although it bugs me to see him using a device it's pretty darn sweet how much he cherishes his memories). And I said, "That's right Bob, in our family we're always up for a photo re-do!"

This serious furrowed brow expression, it's one of Owen's classics. He can be so silly, he can be so serious, he can be so laid back. He fits in perfectly, and we love him so much.

Happy third birthday, Oboe!

traveling outnumbered

2015-02-12T16:13:00.000-05:00

I saw a little something on the internet a while ago like, "Check out these awesome parents who flew with their baby and gave everyone on the plane goodie bags as a pre-apology for any inconvenience!" Well, after flying with our three young children recently I declare: that is absolutely ridiculous and please don't ever do it. People with babies are people too and we've got just as much right to fly as anyone else. Babies cry when they are uncomfortable and after hours trapped in a plane, we're all uncomfortable. The babies just say what the rest of us are too mature to. And if anyone should be getting a goodie bag, it should be the person(s) calming the precious little ones, not the person(s) hearing a little crying breaking through the roar of the plane or feeling a little kicking on their seat. Besides, everyone has headphones these days and the flight attendants even pass them around for free so really there is nothing to complain about. Forget the goodie bags; the surrounding passengers should be buying you drinks.

I'm speaking all hypothetically here because obviously our kids are angels and we were constantly flooded with compliments on how cute and well behaved they were. That sounds like sarcasm but honestly, they couldn't have been better troopers. Our cross-country flight had a little tv with shows and video games in the back of every head rest which meant that our device deprived boys were all set for the duration, despite some six hours or so of extra waiting on the tarmac for wing de-icing and valve unsticking and luggage moving and passenger deplaning and re-planing and whatnot. Maisy was a little more perturbed, but not too badly and nothing a few strolls down the aisle couldn't fix, and like I said, she was just vocalizing what the rest of us were thinking. And since we didn't take off from Newark until after bedtime, all the kids slept through the majority of the six hour flight, and I even got to watch two movies in their entirety -- Alexander and the Terrible Something Day with Steve Carell and Blended with Adam Sandler/Drew Barrymore -- and I loved them both.

a quick self-timer family photo at Albany International

ah, pay phones!

this moment reminded me of taking baby bob to jamaica

settling into plane #1

i'm pretty sure this whole touch screen on the back of everyone's head thing has already been discontinued

sleeping from newark to la

for the last hour of the trip I had to hold owen's body up with my leg; my bum was more than a little sore after this flight

The way home, though lacking in personal screens, was much quicker and easier. Owen and Maisy require some entertaining but Bob could sit in one place for an entire day with his blankie and a pile of books so for him it was nothing out of the norm. Probably the most ridiculous moment of flying for me was changing Owen's diaper in the airplane bathroom... he barely fit on that tiny table and had to lay with his legs sticking straight up the entire time, his giant three year old poop smelled like something had died in his diaper, and frankly I'm surprised we didn't get ejected from the plane. But we survived! And on each leg of the journey we met awesome people who went out of their way to tell us how marvelous our kids were and what a great job we were doing with them. And even one lady who offered to hold the baby while we gathered up our things.

they didn't have enough energy to walk through the airport on the last day; they could only move if we told them to RUN!

waiting for takeoff

cutest traveling companions ever

checking out the scenery

flying is just plain crazy amazing.

big bro buckling up little bro while my arms were occupied...

making sure this little one kept snoozing.

back in Albany...

waiting for dad to dig the car out of the snow and come pick us up

(one still moment... mostly they were running and leaping off this bench)

That middle bit in between the flying days -- the part where we got to spend ten days visiting Ben's family in California where it's warm and sunny and beach weather and I didn't have to cook every dinner or wash any dishes -- was amazing. It warms the heart to see extended family loving on your kiddos. And have I mentioned that it wasn't snowing? I asked everyone what was their favorite part of the trip... Owen said having cake at his birthday party; Bob said riding bikes to the beach; Ben said seeing his Gram and the rest of his family and watching the boys playing just like he did there when he was little. My highlight? I think... walking down the steps to the beach and wading in the waves and watching the boys run and Maisy shovel sand with her starfish hand and just soaking up every last drop of the sunset before climbing back up the cliff.

Just a few (well, my definition of a few) favorite photos... (I shall return with more!)

um, yeah-- this was one of the cutest moments ever

checking out the pier

my most cherished photo from the trip

a fun birthday gift

chocolate cupcake cake!

two teeth!

hashtag no filter!

bubble party!

these two and their deep deep love.

best buds.

Ben told me to put his initials after every photo that he took, which I didn't. But I will give him credit for this last one, which I love. I loved this moment, this moment shared with my daughter-- surveying this earth, feeling the sand on our feet and the sun on our faces, just breathing in this beautiful life. I want so badly to get this right -- why does raising a daughter feel even more significant than raising a son? -- even if none of us really gets it all right. It's a long road, this mother-daughter relationship deal, and surely I'll take some wrong turns, but planting our feet in the sand, sifting the surf with our toes, watching the waves in all their golden glory-- this feels like a good place to start.

last day of the year

2015-01-12T22:46:00.000-05:00

I've just not been in the mood this year, folks. But I love this little bliggity blog and all that it is for me -- a journal of the little details of life that are sure to be forgotten and lost if I don't record them somewhere, a way to share the cuteness with family far away, a little bit of release and self-therapy, something to do with the photos I take every day or a reason to keep taking them -- so... here goes.

It was a big New Year's Eve around here! Owen did his second consecutive poop on the potty (getting number two to splash down has been an ongoing challenge), and Bob lost his first tooth! I had been naming all the ways that the tooth could fall out before midnight, and then what do you know, it happened. Bob was messing with the tooth while snuggling his blankie and playing duplos with Owen and Maisy and suddenly, "Um, I'm sorry to tell you, but--" and I turned around and there he was holding it out in his hand, licking a little drop of blood off his lip. He put that first fallen piece of his mouth's babydom into an envelope which he lettered "TOOTH" and at bedtime he snuck it under his pillow. Bob had high hopes of staying up until midnight this year but instead we had an extra silly silly time and cheered Happy new year! at 8:00 before settling into bed. I promptly forgot about the tooth until after Bob had woken me up in the morning, but I was able to save the magic by suggesting that he had checked under his pillow when it was actually still night and asking him to put something away while I ran upstairs and made the switch. A note and 50 cent coin were then discovered with much excitement. And so we entered the new year.

I technically stayed awake into 2015, but I was upstairs getting Maisy back to sleep and then I fell asleep too and didn't make it back down until Ben and our one guest had retired as well. No exciting party tales.

The "New Year" doesn't really stir all that much emotion in me. Because if you want to change something about your life, there is absolutely no reason to wait until January to do so. January isn't exactly the most inspiring time of the year for me; it is cold and dark and there is still a whole lot of winter ahead. But that's not to say that I'm immune to reflection, and 2014 was a bit of a difficult one I guess.

Is it possible for one year to simultaneously be the best and worst of your life thus far? I think: yes? I can see so much blessing this past year: a cozy home in a beautiful place, a loving hard working husband, two sweet sons, the welcoming of our precious daughter, health, a productive garden and always enough food. Really, life is good. I'm really lucky and not complaining. And yet, my heart has been heavy. Heavy, heavy. There have been some heavy, heavy thoughts weighing on my heart and mind ALL THE TIME. Heavy. That's the only word.

In the true fashion of a long line of feeling-suppressors, I've been mastering a combination of numbing and bottling up my dark thoughts, to the point where the resulting mass inside me may have been crushing my heart a little bit. Which finally led to a recent spewing of truths to a couple of trusted individuals, which was not easy for me, but which I've realized was completely necessary. (I heard all those whiches but I'm rolling with it.) We can't battle our demons alone. We can't. We need to bring them to light and let someone say, "Wow, that is a lot for you to carry, you need to drop that load right now." And we need to cry and let it out and just feel up the feelings sometimes. I need to afford myself the same grace I try to extend to my children -- that feelings are a-okay and we need to let them out, not lock them in.

The art of hiding behind a humor of sarcasm, while perhaps making me amusing to be around at times, hasn't exactly fostered a host of lifelong connections with other vulnerable human beings. And that right there, that's been another lonely realization to come to terms with.

In the fall of 2013, I lost a friend. She didn't die, she just stopped calling, but it almost felt like I was grieving a death. Or a breakup perhaps. It was like being broken up with, but not even told. My girlfriend, my one local friend that I actually saw regularly, explained that she was "maxxed out" at the moment and that was that. And it hurt so much. And I started to realize -- and all through the next year the realization sunk in deeper -- that somehow, 30 years in, I had no friends. (Not true; I have two or three, or four if you include my husband!) I've always felt like I had friends, never felt hated, everyone has always been friendly to me, and yet it's clear now that my high school Spanish teacher was right -- these people that you think are your friends are not really your friends, and you will have only two or three real friends that last in your life. We laughed at her, my "friends" and I -- ha ha! we have dozens of best friends and always will! Well. I can't even remember the teacher's name but I remember that one conversation vividly. And you know, it gives me some consolation knowing that I'm not alone, even if facebook and tweeter and instograham can make it seem like I am.

I know now that real friends are the ones who, when you finally let down your guard and say I need you, they come running. Like, right then. That same day. And I know now that I am very lucky to have even a couple of friends like that.

I think, this new year (see here I am getting on the bandwagon after I already declared that I don't do that sham!) I'd like to let myself be a little more vulnerable. I'd like to meet a new friend, and actually open myself up to her so that she can do the same, and also I want to really be there for the people I know, and tell them so, so that they can call on me and know I'll come running.

Boom.

And now I can (hopefully) get on with my regular lighthearted record keeping, and do a massive recap catchup, and move on into this new year with self-forgiveness and acceptance and grace and trust in God that all will work for good if I seek Him.

the christmas spirit

2014-12-24T00:52:00.002-05:00

We've been hunkered down sick, but hunkered down with plenty of Christmas spirit. The anticipation has been mounting and at this point Bob is absolutely oozing with excitement. Yesterday morning he ran into my room and jumped in the bed and shout-whispered, "I'm so happy because tomorrow is the day before Christmas Eve!" And today, "I know it's a very busy day today because I know that Christmas Eve comes tomorrow!"

Owen is completely obsessed with making "gingerbread" cookies (I have yet to actually make gingerbread... today is the day though! or tomorrow...) He'd prefer to make the real deal of course, but play doh pretending is almost just as good -- in some ways better because he has complete control over all aspects of cookie cookery. Yesterday a wrapped package of mini cookie cutters appeared under the tree and let's just say Wooden spent the entire day at the table playing; I'm talking about 6+ hours all together. And yep, he's right back at it today. Pupper's been there much of the time too, but he's half as obsessed as little bro. Best $4 spent this Christmas.

Maisy Lou, she's just the sweetest age -- intrigued by all the new twinkle in our home, rolling here and there and under the tree, but just young enough that she's not much of a menace yet. (And I say menace in the most endearing way possible; we love our baby menaces.) We picked up Lucy and Tom's Christmas at the library last time around (super sweet, by the way) and Bob and I have fun imagining Maisy playing with the wrapping paper on Christmas morning and falling asleep in a pile of it like the baby in the book. Paper is her favorite these days when she can get her hands on it.

Last year we had trouble understanding the idea of giving which was partly due to age and perhaps partly my fault... I made the mistake of putting tiny toys or treats in the daily advent drawers and that totally overshadowed all else. This year our drawers contain only our advent story books and little notes with suggestions for acts of kindness from our friend Elfie (who disappeared to the North Pole for repair somewhere around December 4th and has yet to return). The boys also have chocolate advent calendars from Grandma which, let's be honest, are probably their favorite part. What's fun is that Bob is really starting to get the giving... For Owen he made a stuffed millipede (Wooden once declared "millipede" to be his favorite word), for Maisy he painted an egg carton into... something, and for Dad he helped make... something else. All really thoughtful gifts that warmed my heart like crazy.

Ben and I wrapped the kids' presents tonight while watching a cheesy Christmas movie and it was utterly romantic. And now it's wicked late and I best get myself to bed. I can't wait to see how excited Pup is tomorrow morning that it's Christmas Eve! We'll be baking cookies for Santa and making a banner for Jesus and I can't be my best without rest!

One last thing for tonight... Self-timer Christmas card photo -- BOOM! That there's one of my favorite outtakes. Getting the little boy people to cooperate for a posed photo is not easy... unless you bribe them with hot chocolate! Made what would normally be a quick series of forced smiles into a cute lil fun time.

Have a merry one!

sickies

2014-12-18T11:20:00.001-05:00

We've been pretty pathetic around here since I last wrote. There's a nasty virus hanging around and the kiddos have all been suffering in varying degrees depending on the hour -- culminating with a vomiting Maisy for the past couple of days. The good news is that despite all the boogers still drooping, we seem to be on the upswing. (I hope!) It's been a good (bad) two weeks of sickness now, pretty much quarantined in the cabin, and I am over it. Times like these make me wish for a troupe of friends and family that would swoop in with some home cooked or take out dinners and therapeutic bath soaps or sick baby holding services. But alas, I am here alone washing puke and poop out of clothes day after day, scrounging up supper and not doing the dishes night after night. (Except when Grandma and Uncle Matt were visiting -- it was so good to have you guys!)

It's a sad scene, folks. And it's turning into a bit of a pity party, which needs to stop. Because honestly, as bad as it's been at times, there has not been one moment when I wished it all away. Because the caring for sick children times are actually some of the most precious times in life I think, times when we can express our love for our littles in the truest way. Up all night with a miserable baby, the only person who can comfort her? A blessing. This is my chance; the window won't be open for long; I'll soak up the well days and the unwell.

This is a series of photographs I call cute misery, scenes from sickmas 2014.

Maisy is the most boogery baby ever. This snot bubble's not too shabby but her biggest was the size of a golf ball, no joke.

Over the summer the boys mostly gave up on napping, but this plague has brought back the nap in the form of kids passing out randomly. Wooden has taken quite a few couch slumbers...

Even Pup has fallen to exhaustion several times in the past couple of weeks. Asleep in the moon room on top of a pile of toys...

and passed out on the floor in front of a heat vent.

Maisy Lou has been in good spirits despite her discomfort (except that real low 48 hours we had), sleeping on a towel to catch the snot and milk puke.

Her congestion and teething combo has also turned her into a little night owl and she's snuck downstairs for quite a few late night tv sessions with mom and dad. We all secretly loved this little routine, a flashback to the days when we had just one baby. "Maisy, are you our only kid right now?" we'd chime, the boys asleep in their bed upstairs, and a huge grin would flash over her face. Preciousness.

PS. On the same day I cried here about being bulldozed by God, my dear high school friend Jamie was in a horrible car accident. Say a prayer for her recovery.

xo, a.

seized, hurled and bound

2014-12-08T16:32:00.002-05:00

You know like when...
You work hard on something and then it's hated, or
You finally pay off your car loan and then you need a new "sway bar" whatever that is, or
You have plans to see friends you really miss but your kids get coxackie virus, or
You're missing someone who is gone, or
Your innards can't handle cheese anymore, or
It's the start of another LONG winter, or
Your son isn't growing fast enough, or
Your daughter is born with one hand?!

You know those times?

Last week was a totally crappy, anxiety filled week.

On the worst day, our reading from "Thoughts to Make Your Heart Sing" by Sally Lloyd-Jones brought me to sobs.

And sometimes we don't understand what God is doing in our lives either. It may even look like God is hurting you. But you can trust your Shepherd, who loves you. He carries you close to his heart.