date with destiny

while I'm waiting for you

2021-04-18T17:00:00.001-04:00

Hey, baby girl...

I am 39 weeks, 4 days pregnant and we are in the final moments of waiting to meet you. Emotions are high and change is so palpable that of course, I had to sit down and write, as I do, to let things settle and get stored for safe-keeping.

I'm thinking back on this pregnancy and honestly, it was quite something.

Growing you inch by inch seemed to inch by. Slow in part because the social aspect of society has slowed during the pandemic. I spent so many endless days just home with your sisters, taking tums to fend off heartburn, and casually growing your limbs while playing make-believe or breaking up disputes while figuring out what to make for dinner yet again and glancing at the clock to see how long until daddy came home. I hardly wore make up. Hardly left the house. Hardly wore real clothes.

Yet, even as the days blended together and dragged on and the overall "covid pregnancy" sentiment lingered, this pregnancy was by far the most eventful. It will be marked forever by significant life happenings stacked on top of each other that leave me feeling very "at home" with you inside my belly. Like enough has happened that we've just become a little team, me and you, weathering it together. As if the shared experience that grew me -- as I grew you -- bonded us.

I'll always be thankful that I had you - close to my heart - during the last 9 months.

We opened a coffee shop not long after we learned about you. It feels like the shop has been part of us much longer than the time it takes to grow a baby and I marvel that I've been pregnant with you the whole time! I joke with your dad that I'll finally be able to enjoy owning a coffee shop once I no longer get heartburn after the first sip (thanks for that). Owning a business has been an interesting adjustment and we're still learning the balance of it all.

File under covid pregnancy: I went to all my OB appointments and ultrasounds alone, which made the visits seem longer and more frequent and never-ending. I saw you for the first time with your Dad on FaceTime and it was strange and sad. Holding the phone up, we shared a moment while he tried to hush your big sisters in the background to hear your heartbeat, squinting to try and catch all the curves and angles of your tiny frame. I asked the technician to print me photos, even though they've switched to digital, and she wrote "hi Darcie and Banks!" on the one with your perfect little profile.

I got covid while pregnant around Christmas time. We missed out on so many holiday outings, but we sure did watch a lot of cheesy Christmas movies. Seems like ages ago, but I tell you what not being able to smell or taste anything while also experiencing intense food cravings was definitely Destiny Rothwell at one of her lowest points. Sorry for who I was then. It was a dark time.

I watched my sister get married on a zoom call. Her in Australia saying yes to her forever, us in Virginia crowding around a tiny phone screen asking her to twirl around in her princess dress hours before the ceremony -- tears flowing because we knew it was the extent of "getting ready" with the bride. We celebrated BIG by hosting a family watch party complete with the big screen, catering, and wedding cake, but that bittersweet feeling was still strange.

Then your papaw had a massive heart attack and cardiac arrest during my third trimester. For a week straight while waiting on his recovery and wondering what life would look like, I would just rub my belly and tell you (but mostly myself) that everything was going to be okay and you were going to know him. He loves his grandkids so well and I am so thankful for the miracle of more time with him. It is a gift for you that I never want you to take for granted.

But glory to God, you are coming to family still in tact. It's been a few wild months, but you have been born into a season of faith. We've weathered storms, waited, prayed, risked, worked, paved, and prepared. We have trusted God and listened to his leading and walked through doors only he could have opened. YOU are the gift we are now ready to receive...I can't wait to welcome you into this ferocious & crazy & beautiful world.

baby prep, bunk beds, and mini vans.

2021-04-16T14:00:00.001-04:00

We are all preparing for your arrival in our own way.

Dad is upgrading our coffee pot (priorities), putting together baby gear to make our life more functional, ordering lots of gadgets from Amazon, cooking for us (as always, you'll see), and of course doing normal things like dusting ceiling fans and cleaning toilets and filling an entire trunk of stuff for goodwill (these may have been my ideas....)

Darcie is asking lots of questions and checking in on me regularly. Does the baby like spicy food? Does the baby have manners yet? Is the baby kicking you hard? Is the baby making you tired? She has dubbed herself the "little mama" and promises to help take care of you. I actually don't doubt her. You'll learn not to doubt Darcie James.

Banks is testing everything out for you. Currently your swing and bassinet are occupied with her baby dolls. Your "HopHop" stuffed bunny is getting some extra love, too. And your pacifiers have almost gone missing on a few occasions from a very territorial 22 month-old.

Mama is waddling around ensuring home will be your happy place. You're on my mind every moment. It races, envisioning your face, and goes from task to task in a valiant effort to create intentional corners and drawers and spaces for you to occupy in our home. You'll be one of us. Your presence will change us and better us. I want you to take up space here and be known.

We each wonder what another little girl will be like here. Another head of hair for bows. Another recipient of hand-me-downs. More pink, more Frozen, more pigtails, more drama. Another future resident of the babe cave bedroom. Another member of the Rothwell Sisterhood.

But yet...your own person. Your own unique YOU. I can hardly wait to see who you favor, how you're different, and how you'll make your own splash. You have always been meant for us. And we're all eager to see you jump in and join.

Darcie reminds us almost daily how your arrival will impact her. Top on her list is moving to the top bunk so Banks can move to the bottom and you can move to the crib (she's got it all worked out), and next up is moving to the backseat of the van. Oh yeah, we bought a mini van. You, my sweet girl, are what pushed me over the edge into a "mini van mom." Although, I will mostly blame your Dad. He was very persuasive on your behalf. It's still settling in for me, but your Dad is straight up living the dream and I guarantee we'll have some pretty epic adventures in pretty epic places if he has anything to say about it. Here's to Rothwell road trips!

Back to the bunk bed. That was another big discussion between mom & dad. We got it when Banks was just a baby. It actually arrived in the mail the week before the pandemic hit and we set it up our first week of quarantine. I tried to convince Ben that we needed those cute little minimalist toddler beds, but he wanted function. He wanted practicality. A huge bunkbed that sleeps three kids. And who knew...it's going to do exactly that one day in the near future.

You can come now. Your family can't wait to meet you.

Letter to my girls from 2020

2021-01-02T20:53:00.018-05:00

Dear Darcie & Banks,

Happy new year, baby girls.

And boy, aren't we happy to have made it through this one.

What a wild, whirlwind, keep-you-guessing, leave-you-breathless year 2020 proved to be. You'll read so much about it in your history books, but I want you to know from my heart to yours: this year was truly a gift to live because nearly every waking moment was spent with you. Every. waking. moment.

I won't lie and say there weren't rough spots. Moments where your dad's and my emotional, physical, mental strength reserve tanks were running on near empty. Moments where we cried over what we saw on the news or sat up late into the night talking about what in the world was happening in our world. Moments where we had to let go of things we hold dear or throw our hands in the air at a loss for how to get through. Feeling stuck, even frozen in time, which resulted in bickering and debating and challenging and making up and saying sorry. I remember moments of saying no to worry and yes to trusting God. And then moments where the stillness seemed to swallow us.

Yes. The price of this pandemic has taken its toll on everyone. Everyone has felt its effects and navigated its damage. Everyone has had to process and grieve in their own way.

But somewhere in the middle, specifically in mid-April as the flowers bloomed and spring brought fresh life, I was reminded to be gentle with myself even in the struggle. Because growth is there. And when you power through with grit, you get to see the growth. So I resolved to stop resisting stillness. Stop fighting the gift of slowing, listening, and learning. Loosening my grip meant readjusting goals, plans, trips, birthdays, and my overall outlook on life.

But my pandemic practice took form and eventually became my mantra. Pause, ponder, & pray. So much was uncertain this year, but there were certain GIFTS in the midst of it all and certainly a God above it all. Open ears and heart. Stop and savor the present. Lean into emotions. And make prayer my go-to, not my last resort. I started praying more over your lives. Over your dad. Over our family and friends and friends of friends. Over our next steps and business plans and dreams and finances. I started believing for provision and favor. I started the shift in my perspective. Pause. Ponder. Pray.

In January of 2020, one year ago, I decided to start a gratitude journal. I had no idea what was coming. Or to what extent my gratitude would be tested. It was a bit of a whim. I wanted to get back to writing things down, but I knew I couldn't consistently keep up with anything too commitment heavy. And while I used to keep journals, I haven't in years. But I felt a nudge to be acutely aware of my abundance going into 2020. To write down the gifts and help center myself in the ebbs and flows of life. And of course, now I know why.

One year later. I've learned to count my blessings instead of counting my losses. I enjoy adding up gifts instead of adding up risks. I continually purpose to choose prayer instead of panic. And I focus on delighting in the little things within my home instead of dreading the big things out there in the world.

The best beauty exists and is encapsulated within our little home. Home became everything. And you, Darcie and Banks, were everything to us. There was quiet in the world. All kinds of delicious quiet.

And quiet became our friend. Stillness our everyday rhythm. Patience became our practice. Contentment became our joy. Your amazing dad helped me get through. I leaned on him at the end (and during every waking moment, let's be honest) of my every day. On days when I felt down, he had that extra pep in his step to make another day another adventure with you girls. He and I became a team. We worked together and picked up the slack for one another. We learned how to co-parent two little toddlers. And we made it.

Along the way, we also saw how amazing our little toddlers actually are.

You were our perpetual bright spot. Our shining light. The glue that stuck us all together. Your smiles when we needed them, bouncy personalities that snapped us from the couch into dance parties, and eager eyes full of unconditional love. You didn't let the wear & tear of 2020 wear you down. In fact, you were oblivious to the weight of this year and instead, helped us as mom & dad weather it with grace. Because we had you. You were resilient, optimistic, and flexible. The world asked children to do hard things this year. And I'm so proud we all made it together. I realized how much FUN we're capable of having every single day for like an entire year. The four of us. We did it.

There is peace knowing that if all material goods or comforts were stripped away, it would still be okay because my heart remains here with you. And I am happy.

And you are happy. And that's what matters.

Your tiny lives. The tiny balls of energy that constantly brought us back to laughter, wonder, tickles, routine, play, teething, and teaching one another how to fully love life -- amidst a pandemic & all.

Cheers to 2021. To a hopeful future, a new little sister, travel & parties & playgrounds & a fresh start. And yet still protecting that stillness...sacredly shared between us.

I love you,

Mama

holiday bucket-list

2020-12-08T14:46:00.002-05:00

our annual holiday bucket-list is here! christmas really is the most magical with kids and we love making memories with them.

- go on a hot cocoa date with the girls

- make an advent calendar with christmas activities

- decorate the coffee shop for christmas

- make an ornament

- donate toys

- go pick out a christmas tree!

- spend a quiet afternoon wrapping presents

- make a christmas playlist

- kisses under the mistletoe

- host a christmas party with festive food

- family nights at christmas town

- go get donuts and drive around to see lights

- record Darcie singing christmas carols

- listen to Kacey Christmas on repeat

- watch Rudolph, The Star, It's A Wonderful Life, Little Women, The Holiday, hallmark christmas movies

- listen to christmas records, add to the collection!

- make dried orange garland

- sister baking day

- go caroling

- make homemade chex mix

- oo and ahh at the christmas tree

- mom & dad annual "holidate"

- read twas the night before christmas on christmas eve!

- send christmas cards

- matching jammies!

- decorate a gingerbread house

life tips for my rothwell girls

2020-11-16T20:37:00.002-05:00

Just some thoughts on a random Friday while I'm sitting in a coffee shop. Your Dad is home with you both after he told me to get some "me time." And of course I spend it thinking about you. About the lives ahead of you...what I wish for you to know, carry with you, cultivate.

Here are some life tips from my heart to yours.

Rule your spirit.

You have what it takes to think clearly, exercise self-control, & rise above self-pity.

Make a bucket-list.

Give thought to the big & small things you want to experience in this life. You'll feel so satisfied when you check things off.

Send thank you notes.

It's a small yet thoughtful gesture that speaks volumes.

Make faith, integrity, and courage the themes of your life.

Do the right thing even when the right thing is hard. Always remember the one who gives you the strength in the margin. Don't fumble through with uneasiness, but instead rest EASY in the one who goes before you.

Care about grammar.

Learn the difference between they’re, their, and there.

Lovers gonna love and haters gonna hate.

Let go of what people think of you. Love hard and without discrimination.

Be slow to offense.

And quick to give people the benefit of the doubt.

Strong is the new pretty.
Take care of your body, but do not obsess over it. Eat what you want without fear while always considering foods that fuel you.

Make a habit of praying every morning for favor, anointing, and wisdom.

We've prayed it over you since you were born. You'll see doors open and God will give you the wisdom to know which ones to walk through.

Be others-oriented.
Make the nobodies become great somebodies. Don't underestimate kindness.

Know you're accountable for apologizing.

It's on you. Humility is important. Love keeps no records of wrongs.

Be teachable.
You're a student long after your school years.

Use your ears more than your mouth.
Listen, learn, think, observe. Wisdom lives there.

Find a man like your Dad.
I'm praying God replicates him just right for you. Be patient & don't rush into any relationship you don't feel peace about. And it's okay to openly compare him to the amazing men in your life...it just might provide some relief and clarity.

Pay attention to your emotions.
Feel what you feel. What is God saying through these feelings? Or in spite of them?

Let prayer do the heavy lifting.
Do not be anxious about anything...trust in your maker who holds it all together. Pray, pray, pray.

Laughter is medicine.

Be joyous. Smile whenever you can. Find people who make you laugh, refresh your mood, and lighten your load.

Be a leader, not a follower.

Don't follow the crowd, don't take your queue from culture. Don't let others determine your choices, your values, your likes/dislikes. The best leaders are great followers, but they discern the difference between who they should follow and who they should lead.

Use your manners, common sense, and problem solving skills.

This is SO important to your Dad. I know he will be a great teacher in these areas so you become ole pros.

Friends come & go, family will always be family.

You've got a really big one and they're really the best. Never take them for granted.

Review & name your blessings.
Even the most common & ordinary. Gratitude gives you grace for what isn't & a contented grip on what is.

Look forward to tomorrow.
No matter what happened today. Tomorrow is a fresh day with no mistakes in it yet.

Seek out people different from you.
Diversify your life. You'll be a better you if everyone around you doesn't look or think like you.

Be well-rounded & well-traveled.

Go places, pursue hobbies, develop a skillset, value education, read books, watch documentaries, try new things, embrace new cultures, go on adventures, don't believe everything on the internet.

Be a dreamer & a planner too.

Find what lights up your soul, believe in yourself, make a plan, then a plan B and C, then work hard.

you're 3!

2020-07-27T15:48:00.002-04:00

Dear Darcie,

My big girl. My first born. My intuitive helper. My summer baby. My fierce leader. My imaginative creative. My good natured conversationalist. My smart little cookie. My test of every nerve. My strong willed emotional roller coaster. My nurturing little mama. My future world changer. My adventurous wide-eyed explorer. My brunch buddy. My dance partner. My built-in coffee date. My muse. My side kick. My mini me.

You were the little baby who would play with my hair and hold me close now you’re the threeanger who plays pretend and holds baby dolls and “blow-dries” your hair at your little pink vanity. Everyday you tell me you’re getting "bigger and bigger and bigger and bigger” while you stretch your arm up high. But you still have those chunky thighs and cheeks. My saving grace… the last remnants of baby Darcie. I dread the day when I can’t squeeze those round cheeks under those chocolate eyes. The day when you legs stretch tall and you’re at my eye level. Right now…they're things I can still touch and feel that bring me back to the moments I thought would last so long but faded like every summer when we celebrate your birthday and turn our eyes to the fall.

Fall. The changing leaves. The vibrant colors. The cooler breeze. The pumpkins you love to pick. The bowls of chili you love to eat. My birthday. Reminders that I, too, am another year older. Time: wondrous and devious. It takes, but also gives. Gives reminders that we’re growing in tandem. Me and you. Me becoming more confident as a mother and more aware of what it takes to mother you. You more confidant in yourself and aware of what it takes to live here in this world. I ache with pride and worry as I watch you find your footing. You’re doing so well. You’re extraordinary and smart. You’re friendly and kind. On our walks you like to introduce yourself to everyone who comes along our path — even in a pandemic. “Hi, my name is Darcie James. This is my friend mama, dada, and baby sister. And I’m princess Darcie.” And don’t forget the shouting over your shoulder “I love you!” as the passerby goes on their way. You have an ease about you. Smooth. Assured. Like the sing-song way you respond to my questions with an easy-going “yeah yeah yeah” in a melodic descending tone. Like you’ve got this and you’ve not a care in the world.

Baby girl, I know three will bring so much new, but I relish every part of you now. Your bronze skin and seeking eyes and the ringlets in your hair on hot summer days, your sandy bubble toes at the beach, your dance moves, your summersaults on the trampoline, your imaginary friend Gaga. I relish every simile that flows out of your imagination — and how you jump at sharing them with us (swimming like a dolphin, stripes on a shirt like a zebra, circles anywhere are like buttons, etc. etc. etc.) I relish how you tell me “good job” when I do the most ordinary tasks at home with you and your sister. Somehow you know I need to feel seen.

I relish your emotions — as much as they try my patience some days. I’m proud of you for learning them and leaning into them. You feel big and deep. Strong and wild. It’s a roller coaster for all of us, but we’re glad we’re on this ride with you. We’ll hold your hand and teach you how to navigate the challenges and strengths of feelings. You’re a powerful force. But also a gentle supporter. You care so much for others. Like the girl at the park you found crying and you sat with your hand on her shoulder until she stopped. Or the way you sense my emotions and ask me if I’m okay. Or the way you tell Banks to be happy when she’s crying and you pat her back even if it’s the last thing she wants you to do.

What I love about you right now:

When you sing songs about Jesus, when you make up words to your favorite book, Flora and the Flamingo, when you call watermelon “watermelon sugar” because we’ve listened to Harry Styles one too many times, when you ask for Christmas or swimming when you’re bored at home. When you ride in your jeep and pretend to go trick-or-treating in the middle of summer, when you dance to the Hamilton soundtrack and get all the words wrong but still try. When you pick up Banks and tell me “I so strong!”, when you ride rocket-ship daddy to bed at night and giggle the whole way to your bedroom.

Keep telling me you’re my big girl baby. Keep asking for Darcie dates. Keep saying your birthday is “julove twenty seven.” Keep playing pretend. Keep believing you can take on the world. You can and you will.

xoxo,

mama

Moments from her 3rd birthday party:

what I'll tell them one day...

2020-06-06T14:11:00.001-04:00

We're living in an extraordinary moment in history. Everyone is saying it. And while history books will tell the story of 2020, I want to frame its impact & nuances in my own words, for my own family, as an effort to capture what our lives looked like -- the day in and day out of our life at home.

So this is what I'll tell my girls someday about Quarantine 2020.

We were home for seventy something days. The world outside was sleeping and we had each other. And we found out it was enough. Beaches and parks were closed, weddings and baby showers were cancelled. But we made the most of it. And discovered so much not cancelled: going outside, family walks, supporting local coffee shops, making memories, pizza nights, pillow forts.

Darcie came to the conclusion that playgrounds and Chick-fil-a were broken. And often told us "the people need to build it again." Banks crawled around the house and learned to walk and celebrated her first birthday with a small family garden party. It was so special: our baby becoming a toddler in those sacred days we didn't know we needed to just soak in her every wobble and word.

We rearranged furniture and watched the garbage truck every Tuesday for entertainment and cleaned out the garage and built a bunkbed. And we had that sinking feeling and lumps in our throats watching our 2 year-old slip into big girl-dom as she climbed up the ladder and we tucked her into a top bunk.

Sundays were slow. Spent curled up on the couch with homemade biscuits and coffee, soon upgrading to Ben's homemade quiche. The sound of singing filled our home as we watched church online. We missed our people, but we loved seeing the church stretch and innovate. And we loved being part of a moment in history as it rose up and leaned in and kept moving forward. God never stopped working. God never stopped showing up.

There were daily rides around the cul-de-sac in a little pink frozen motor car and nightly dinners around the kitchen table with some insane recipes. We cooked a lot. Breakfast, lunch, dinner. Every. Day. `One night we made a charcuterie board for supper and the girls were big fans of helping themselves. We baked bread and muffins and pulled out old family recipes just for fun. Picnics in the front yard under our magnolia shade tree were common. Dinners on our back porch became the new going out to eat. Hotdogs became our girls' favorite food. We grilled them weekly (or more). All days were slow. And we forgot which day was what. Weekends became obsolete. We starting calling Saturday "day".

My plant subscription sparked joy whenever a new one showed up on the doorstep. Darcie helped me water my "trees" and got very concerned when she felt they were looking "sad" (droopy). Ben was furloughed from the hotel because food & beverage services shut down. He hustled hard, though and got a little gig playing hymns in the courtyard of a retirement community to boost hope in a lonely place. Our other jobs continued and we kept getting paychecks. That wasn't the story for so many families and we mourned and checked on friends and volunteered for food banks when we could.

There were Star Wars marathons after the girls' bedtime and morning cuddles were a thing. Quaran-tunes in the living room with dad and his guitar, nights spent tediously painting kitchen cabinets, yard work and closet organization. Mirror selfies, chasing sunsets, simple wonder. Sunny days in our blow-up pool in the backyard. Outings to save our sanity to lavender farms and strawberry fields. Ben in an apron making fajitas in the kitchen, me on the floor playing blocks with the girls, the wind sweeping through the screen door, our feel-good playlist up loud, an eventual dance party with chopsticks as drums, tired parents and it’s only monday, tiny girls full of big emotions, a big love full of tiny moments. These were the moments.

Like us, families everywhere stayed home and watched spring unfold through nature walks and open windows or maybe we took note of every bloom and breeze because of less distraction or hurry or schedule. Darcie developed her love for "hanitizer" (hand sanitizer) and we lysoled everything and stocked up on toilet paper during the national shortage. Months later, I bought Ben a little toilet paper shaped ornament to commemorate 2020. Schools closed and parents gained a whole new respect for teachers. Essential workers kept going. Entire communities drove to hospitals and honked their horns to cheer on exhausted and overwhelmed healthcare heroes. FOMO was gone. Easter was at home, a brunch board with homemade waffles necessary to keep things fancy. Birthday parties were drive-by caravans. We witnessed one during a neighborhood walk. When the sweet 16-year-old girl laugh-cried as countless cars with paint and streamers beeped their horns and friends hung out of windows, we smiled and realized we were seeing the special, wondrous side of humanity. This would be what we remembered. And what we'd tell our kids.

There was more good news, too. Clothing companies started producing masks, along with sewers at home to do their part. Car manufacturers pivoted to make ventilators. Restaurants became pros at curb-side pickup. We supported our local favorites whenever we could. We'd put the girls to bed and order fajitas or burgers or wings. Neighbors spent mornings sitting in lawn chairs in cul-de-sacs 6 ft apart sharing conversation because what else was there to do? In fact, quiet neighborhood streets were often the liveliest of all. Everyone drawn to being outside. Leaving the house for a breath of fresh air, change of scenery, last ditch effort to preserve their sanity. It became customary to politely cross to the other side of the street to pass people, but also customary to offer a kind wave and smile when doing so. Kindness. So much kindness. Everyone was having a hard go of it. Managing as best they could. There was a collective, palpable feeling in the air. Like one big breath being held in, waiting for the exhale, for the end in sight.

I don't want to remember social distancing, #stayhome hashtags, stimulus bills, cancelled plans, or even that anxious feeling in the air. I want to remember those walks around the neighborhood where a dad was teaching his son to ride a bike in the middle of a Tuesday. I want to remember sidewalk chalk and baby sign language, date nights with scrabble tournaments and take out on the couch. Sleeping in, staying up late. Polaroids and simple living. Chunky cheeks and dirty little feet. Fresh bread out of the oven and the songs that played while rolling pizza dough. Boardwalk strolls with coffee and our girls in matching bucket hats, avoiding the areas where "BEACH CLOSED" signs sprinkled the sand. Rolled up papers turning into treasure maps, so many days when the trampoline was our saving grace, DJ learning to use the instax camera, and Banks learning to walk.

Oblivious babies to the outside world and optimistic parents that these days really are THE days.

happy birthday, banks

2020-05-29T16:41:00.000-04:00

Dear Banks,

Your quarantine birthday is in the books! I can't wait to tell you about the time you turned one. I'll tell you about the night I cried as April inched on and I realized there would be no big party (I'm sure you'll know, but your mama loves planning parties). I'll tell you about how irritated your daddy was that I still had to have everything perfect for a low-key small family gathering. I'll tell you about how covid had me unable to keep track of days for the life of me until the calendar switched to your birth month and suddenly I was begging time to slow, keenly aware of it all, rocking you to sleep (even though you've been sleep trained for months) JUST to get even a few extra moments with you. I’ll tell you about the morning of May 14th and how I pulled you into our bed and cuddled you close and took a polaroid to remember the way your eyes curve when you smile and how your smile shows off your two tiny bottom teeth. And I’ll tell you about how we had the best day with you. You were perfect and happy and content throughout every moment — a nod to what this year was like with you in our family. I’ll tell you about the way you dug your hands into your cake and then planted your face in it all the while your sister said, “mess it up, banks. Mess it up NOW!” I’ll tell you about the way the restaurants were closed but we ordered your favorite food to-go and you devoured a quesadilla, beans, rice, and guac. And I’ll tell you about how we ended the day - when I told your dad to take a picture of me with you as the sun set behind us because I couldn’t let the day end without capturing
one last snapshot of the way I smile when you’re in my arms.

You are my sweet girl, My angel. My pure soul. Your aunt Tay Tay calls you a "joy bomb". You light up every room - but more than that - you bring calm and comfort. A soothing presence. Somehow reassuring. You’ve given a distinct center to our lives when a pandemic tried to fray us. And for that, I thank you.

Your shy smile can successfully jolt me out of any funk I’m in. Along with your kisses on demand, your power squat while playing, deep growls (which is totally not *on brand* for you, but you like to keep us guessing), love of the outdoors, and instant dance moves whenever you hear music or whenever we chant “go banks go banks". You are joy to the core. You started shaking your head yes before no (which you still haven’t learned!), and I believe it’s a true testament to your good natured personality: compliant, kind, cooperative, curious, sensitive. These are the qualities I love about you.

Life with you is sweet. The past few months, we’ve been soaking it up extra because let’s face it, there’s not much else to do, but you provide top-notch entertainment and we’re not complaining. You speed crawl to follow us around the house and pull up to be part of any action you think you’re missing. You’ll use anything for a walker — you’ve been known to push around the kitchen barstools without a backwards glance. You’re FEARLESS and TOUGH. You’ll plunge into water without a second thought or climb up stairs or playgrounds and you somehow survive playing with DJ, which normally ends with getting knocked down or pummeled over. But you don’t hold any grudges. You crawl right back over to her as if to give her a clean slate. You adore her and you always have. I pray you always will.

You don't say as many words as your big sister did at your age, but we’ve heard: hi, uh-oh, all done, and dada. And let’s not forget everything you say with those eyebrows. So full of expression since day one, your own brand of communication. The words will come. So for now I cherish the rosy cheeks, furrowed brow, inquisitive eyes, and little waves. The waves will become little words, which will then become little sentences and then little stories and then little secrets. So for now, I rest in the present and refuse to rush the process. And there’s no shortage of entertainment in the here and now. Your sister does the talking and you’ve found mimicking makes us laugh so you stick with that. Whether it’s singing and echoing "into the unknown", giving Darcie’s dance moves a go, playing peek a book in your high chair, or copying us when we sneeze. It’s all so silly and yet impressively engaging, and unbelievably fun. Everything good for us in this strange season of the world. But, honestly, everything good for us, ever.

The week of your birthday, you took your first steps. We shouted and cheered, exchanged looks of disbelief, pride, and sorrow. So many complex emotions. You are growing so much, baby girl. You’ll continue to find your footing and your fight. And I’ll be there. To teach you and advocate for you. To catch you when you fall and launch you when you need a push. It’s all a balance — life. And if 2020 has taught us anything, it’s that life is unpredictable. Nothing is guaranteed. Your safe circumference can be breached without warning. But there is still good news when you look for it. There are helpers when you look for them. And there is kindness when you look for it — I pray you’ll only have to look as far as within yourself to find that kindness first — and then spread it. And you will, my Banks Felicity. My riverbank of happiness, which is what your name means. I pray that you’ll use that joy from the center of who you are and bring center to others. That you’ll keep that smile on your face that reaches your eyes and then people’s hearts. And I pray those beautiful eyes remain open and clear. Clear to discern when you must disrupt comfort and confront injustice. Anything that stands in the way of the mission and mandate of Jesus is worth your time, your voice, and your action. When you don't know what to do, just do the next right thing (frozen 2 for reference in a couple decades when you read this). I pray you’ll be inventive in how you communicate, in how you engage, in how you befriend...build...bloom...and bridge. That you’ll live with surprising generosity and goodness. That you’ll love deeply, loudly, and firmly. That the nobodies will be somebodies when you’re around. I pray God will be your guide and that love, favor, peace, provision, and mercy will follow you all the days of your life — as I watch with pride every step of the way.

I'll wrap this thing up with words of scripture, formed into what we've dubbed your lullaby. The song I sing to you every night before bed, the song you hum along to while rocking against my chest:

My his favor be upon you
And a thousand generations
And your family and your children
And their children and their children
May his presence go before you
And behind you and beside you
All around you and within you
He is with you, he is with you
In the morning and the evening
In your coming and your going
In your weeping and rejoicing
HE IS FOR YOU, HE IS FOR YOU.

You are loved. You are treasured. You have so much to give this world. Thank you for living life in wonderment. Everyday I wonder how I lived without you. But I’m so thankful I don’t need to.

Love,
Mom

worthy no matter the skin you wear.

2020-05-28T15:55:00.003-04:00

romans 13:9-10

My heart is broken & heavy. I’ve borrowed a lot of words from others in the past & simply “shared” posts on instagram because:
1. it’s hard to find words to respond to this kind of injustice, and
2. I worry that I’ll say the wrong thing, fumble over it, and further prove to people I’ll never understand it because I’ll never experience it.

But enough is enough. I don’t care how much I know or don’t know. I’m choosing to dig deep & feel deep & speak from the depth of me because I want my kids to know one day that their mom had something to say about this. that I didn’t stay silent. that I was AWARE and AWAKE. and because I’m tired. tired of just “feeling bad” or “feeling sad” — I want to fight. I want to ask God to show me his heart for PEOPLE, the human race, & carry that heart within mine. I want to move with the compassion of Jesus & challenge systemic hate. I want to be educated. I want to advocate for those who have a different story and whose experience in this country is not the same as mine.

what is happening is heartbreaking, exhausting, infuriating, & revolting.

no one deserves to be killed for going on a run because they’re black. no one deserves to be killed for writing a bad check because they’re black. no one deserves to be second guessed or side glanced or sentenced to death because they’re black. it’s wrong. and wrong doesn’t have to be political or need any context. wrong is just wrong.

as I watched the video alone in my room, my 2 year-old ran in with a bag of balloons, begging me to blow them up because it would “be kinda really fun, mama!” I smiled & tried to snap back to the world inside my insulated, privileged, white home. but I couldn’t go back after what I saw. I couldn’t help imagining how I would tell darcie about this. how I could possibly explain hatred like this. how I could shatter the goodness within her by revealing the evil within others. how could dampen her world that revolves around simple things like when it will be her birthday with the reality that there are people in this world who think she deserves birthdays and others do not. I couldn't stop thinking about my beautiful friends of color who are weary & worn & worthy yet wondering if their white friends will even say anything -- preparing themselves for a lack of response and telling themselves it would be okay & move on. the mama who told me she prays every time her wonderful black husband and three beautiful black boys are apart -- that God would bring them home safely together. IT'S NOT OKAY.

as I blew up Darcie's balloons for a pretend birthday party, I was haunted by those “I can’t breathe” pleas from George Floyd as another human decided to be judge, jury, and executioner. as air left my throat, it struck me: breath in my lungs. here we are -- WE have breath in our lungs, unlike George, so we must use it. for GOOD. for change. for accountability. for love that conquers hate. for open eyes & open hearts to learn & continue to learn -- to be VIGILANT in learning. to ask questions, to be uncomfortable so as to comfort others, to resist being passive, numb, apathetic, or silent. to dig deep to find words that put us on the right side of history, even if it means stumbling over them to get there. God has given each of us a voice to speak out, eyes to see the truth, ears to listen to lived experiences, hands to take critical action, & a heart to entrust the greatest tool: empathy for people who are loved & valued by their maker. WORTHY no matter the skin they wear. let’s wake up and, as simple as it sounds, USE THEM.

to all my beautiful friends of color, help me. tell me how to do better. I am willing to do the hard work.

all my love, respect, & conviction,

destiny

(for ways to take action, text 'floyd' to 55156 and follow @grassrootslaw on instagram)

2019 in 365 seconds

2020-04-08T16:19:00.002-04:00

Isn't it wonderful to know some of the best days of our lives are still ahead of us?

I documented the year we welcomed our newest daughter by taking 1 second video clips everyday, then compiled them using this app. This project was actually a New Years resolution and I'm proud I stuck with it!! I'm posting late, but since 2020 has been crazy so far, it's nice to revisit memories that bring joy while reminding myself that no season lasts forever. I'm deciding to continue this project this year -- 1 second clips to time capsule these quiet days at home. I think I'll appreciate them someday.

I encourage you to find ways to document these strange times. Pictures of your kids printed out, quarantine crafts saved, songs or poems written, videos created, gardens planted, letters written, journal entries to look back on, baby books completed. Tap into your own creativity! Don't simply exist, but choose to experience.

So here's to the little moments, the glimpses beyond the highlight reel, the growth & change that happen in the day in and day out, the way our lives strand together to create one story laced with beautiful, funny, and tragic moments.

And may we embrace the right now so one day we'll look back on 2020 and remember it fondly.

count your blessings not your losses

2020-04-03T00:37:00.001-04:00

It's 2020 & the world is unlike anything we've ever known. It's strange & scary & surreal. And it seems selfish how much time we have together -- our little family. Everyday another day just us, isolated from what's going on out there. From the sickness, the empty streets and closed shops, the healthcare heroes who are leaving their families everyday to care for others. The simplicity of what our day-to-day life looks like now is too standard in the face of a pandemic. Waking up, wondering if we should have eggs or granola or both. Deciding between a Star Wars or Lord of the Rings marathon. Figuring out how to spend another day occupying a toddler and baby. Getting to spend every waking (& sleeping) moment with Ben. Baking, board games, cleaning out the garage, finally painting the kitchen cabinets. Being home in a house we love so much. The inside is insulated. But the chaos from the outside comes calling. The bad news we're bombarded with, the restlessness, the regulations, the confinement, the questions.

Last week, our governor announced a "temporary stay at home" order we all knew was coming. But the date "June 10th" took the wind out of my I-can-do-this-quarantine thing sails. Suddenly, I found myself grieving the small stuff...easter egg hunts, sundays in church, Banks' first birthday party, more time away from family & friends, Busch Gardens trips, farmers market mornings, Darcie's ballet classes, traditions put on hold, vacations cancelled.

It's crazy how quickly we forget how fortunate we are that the most we're being asked to do is stay home.

SO. I'm shifting my perspective. Choosing faith when fear comes sweeping in, when financial strain adds burdens. Choosing to smile at simple things and see that there's joy to be found in these jumbled and disrupting times.

Focus on the gifts instead of the risks, I tell myself. The moments of gratitude that bring calm and somehow burry the concern, if only for a few moments. I'm learning to see these, soak in these, and surrender the rest.

We are told to stay home to save lives. So here we are. On day 21 of quarantine in our house on Cranefield Place. So I'm counting blessings instead of counting my losses.

What I'm certainly grateful for in the midst of uncertainty:

- our new routine where we shut our laptops at 4:30pm and enjoy a family walk around the neighborhood

- not wearing make up

- slowing down

- technology to connect with friends & family

- my job

- baking my mom's cranberry muffins that remind me of childhood

- getting outside everyday

- the blessing. on repeat (& Banks singing & swaying during "aaaaamen")

- buffalo chicken tacos

- every other dinner Ben has cooked the past two weeks
- church at home on my couch with coffee (never have I been more proud to be part of such a beautiful, strong, resilient, and unstoppable force called THE CHURCH)

- Darcie's first night in her bunk bed

- losing so badly at scrabble

- worship playlists (my favorite one HERE)
- healthcare professionals, first responders, military, teachers, and essential workers
- refinancing and saving on our mortgage in the the ACTUAL nick of time
- fancy tea parties at home with DJ and her dolls she calls kids

- our pristine duvet cover after bleaching it for the first time since being married

- Darcie telling me Banks is her "best fend"

- a husband that hustles however he can in order to provide

- songwriting with Ben and his guitar
- uber eats

- my girls in matching pink overalls
- little pick-me-ups like a new plant in the mail or a good jam song

- empty beaches & sandy toes
- movie nights cuddled up on the floor in a sleeping bag with Darcie, pizza, and popcorn
- picking wildflowers on our walks
- the pride on Banks' face (and mine) when she finally learns how to pull up!
- Ben bringing coffee to my bed every morning
- time for us to talk and dream and argue
- reading this book every night before bed, which is quoted by the 2 year-old in its entirety
- national burrito day and free delivery at chipotle
- our double stroller

- new leaves on my fiddle leaf fig
- staying organized and nutritious with my handy dandy meal planner
- quaran-tune sessions with the newly assembled family band
- sleeping in while Ben gets breakfast for the girls
- zoom meet ups

- a warm slice of fresh baked bread with butter & jam
- watching spring unfold before our eyes
- waves from strangers and kind smiles in our neighborhood
- sister group chats where we exchange recipes, scriptures, memes, attempted new hobbies, and solidarity
- PJs all day
- teaching DJ the life skill and love language of homemade pizza
- love notes to the girls
- psalm 91 and psalm 42
- the smell of fresh cut grass
- Darcie's growing vocabulary & the way she definitively says "yeah. I fink so." when she's pleased with the choice she made
- the swing on our magnolia tree in the front yard
- snuggles on the couch watching Bluey when all else fails and we just. need. a. minute.
- the happiest smiles when B wakes up from her naps, her rosy cheeks, eager eyes, & red marks from her sheets successfully jolting me out of any funk
- sunshine & picnics, magic hour & bonfires
- balancing the belly laughs & exasperated sighs at trying to successfully co-parent while cooped up at home all day everyday
- Banks always there to bring the calm. the joy. the reassurance. Her tiny life yanking us back to simple wonder, the comfort of routine, easy laughter, and the importance of play.
- chances to teach our girls about Jesus through simple books like this
- the breakfast nook where we eat together as a family nearly every meal
- so much time for Ben to play with the girls...always a game on the agenda...daddy mountain, hide and seek, rocket ship, catch, monster daddy, puppy Darcie
- dance parties before bedtime
- time to think and pray and listen and write
- slowing down, self check ins, a soul refresh, maximizing the moment, deciding I will not waste this crisis

10 valentine's days with you

2020-02-14T14:59:00.000-05:00

My valentine. We hum Cinderella all day long and geek out over Star Wars. We create traditions and sing together and make everything a competition and fight while cooking in the kitchen. We tell each other "you're doing a great job" and motivate one another with "you got this, babe." We take our girls to get doughnuts and go grocery shopping as a family every Friday morning which sometimes results in making a scene in aisle 4. We get dressed up sometimes, split french fries, and ask the host at the restaurant to take a polaroid as we leave. We skip out on long lines at the arcade to go play pool instead. We give each other cards and laugh at being cheesy and yet we're cheesy all the same.

You are the man in the kitchen making the kids dinner. You make the coffee every night and pour my cup every morning. You never forget to take out the trash. You treat my dreams like your own. You make play forts with Darcie, take the girls on rocket ship rides, and plan family movie nights. All you ever want is more of us....even when we're not at our best.

We've created a really beautiful life. You're my forever.

Dear Banks...

2019-11-30T23:53:00.000-05:00

You're 6 months old. And every month of you makes our family feel more whole. We love your around-the-clock cuddles & the way you meet our eyes when we call your name. A smile always follows. Your smile reaches your eyes. And reveals small dimples in your cheeks. Some of my favorite moments with you are when I stare into your big brown eyes and watch them squint with a smile until they're just littles slits atop the chubbiest cheeks. Your cheeks make you friends everywhere you go.

You're the newest member of the Darcie fan club. You search the room and crane your neck when you hear your sister nearby. As if you're preparing for whatever she's got in store for you. You save your biggest smiles for her. You're surprisingly tolerant of her sometimes rough methods of affection. She likes to give you your pacifier, tell you "no cy baby" when you're sad, steal your toys when you're happy, and hold you in an awkward fashion & only on her terms. I anticipate the future of your relationship being tricky and totally awesome.

You love being worn. I'm thankful because we're on the go a lot. Since being born, you've gone strawberry picking, blueberry picking, pumpkin picking, and apple picking -- all while snuggled on mama's chest. The seasons are flying by and you're getting bigger with each one. But with every new adventure, we realize more and more how perfectly you fit right in. Right into our arms. Right into our hearts. Right into the family chaos. Right into the rhythms of the Rothwell life. The little Banks-sized piece we were always missing. The piece we sometimes take for granted because you are so quiet and inquisitive and forgiving and resilient.

At the beginning, I admit we would forget you were there! I blame exhaustion. Or your big sister. Or your temperment. You were content. Calm. We'd go about our business and suddenly: "oh yeah!! we have two now!" You'd kindly remind us of your tiny presence with tiny coos that quickly had all of us hovered around you, exercising our best and most annoying baby voices. You would attentively watch us, like you were trying to learn the Rothwell ropes in this big new world.

our first photo as a family of four

We struggled for a few months in mastering sleep. It was hard. And you fought us with a will so strong I was alarmed. You are stubborn, but your parents are just as much. Your dad would tell you during your crying fits, "you've met your match, Banksy." He named your middle-of-the-night bouts of screaming your "90 minute rebellion." But in the end, we won. And we understand all over again the delicate nature of childhood. The briefness of every phase even though they seem like they're endless. The theft of time. Here we are... so proud of you for learning how to fall asleep without our help. But also aware of an ache -- a yearning for those maddening & beautiful long hours of shooshing & rocking & feeling so needed & wanted. The answer to your restlessness. The key to your rest. Thank you for working with us, forgiving us, and cooperating with us. We all learned so much. And I can say you are finally, finally, finally sleep trained. I'll only need 2 years of therapy but I won't hold it against you.... ;)

You have many nicknames. Baby B, Bansky, Bansky Boo, Banky (daddy only), Queen B, Bankers (courtesy of uncle Landon), Baby Sisser (creative credit to Darcie James), Boinks, Banksy-Love, and the one your Nana so appropriately gave to you: Flopsy. Because you flop around as you're passed around and melt into whoever is holding you. Like you're just here for the snuggles. You haven't had a lot of interest in testing out new tricks like rolling or crawling...you like to people watch and gnaw on toys and be held by mama and be outside in the fresh air. But don't worry, I won't rush you. Take your time, sweet love. You'll learn the way. Just like you learned how to sit up. And I watched you focus with all your might on staying balanced. I laughed during playdates at the park where you tried not to fall over with every small gust of wind.

Sitting is now your favorite position for your favorite pastime: sister watching. You love to sit on the floor and play with the leftover toys Darcie gives you as she floats around in a land of make believe. I'd like to think she's giving you a lesson on how to imagine and dream. And that you're paying attention. So you'll be ready to take your place in her world of stories when the time is right. I also wonder how long you'll be okay with her toy-snatching, and if your temperament will always prefer others over yourself. There's so much yet to be discovered. But this I know: you're an old soul. A mild soul. A kind soul.

You bring our family joy. You teach us lessons about grace & gentleness & sharing & persistence & presence. You make us wonder what the future will look like. You make us laugh at what today looks like because even when I'm tired with dirty clothes, dirty hair, and a dirty house... you are my "why" right now. And everything else can wait. You are the "who" that I want to know. And everyone else can wait.

So I'm thankful I know the details of Banks Felicity Rothwell. Like how you pull bows off your head, aggressively rub your eyes when you're tired, squeak when daddy sings to you as if to make it a duet, and how you reach for mama with everything you've got -- accompanied by the most pitiful whine. And in this moment, at 6 months old... I'll remember you as a sleep machine, a smile factory, a hand nommer, a toe grabber, a forgiving little sister. You love pears & sweet potatoes & bedtime stories & talking to yourself in your bed after naps with a tiny raspy voice that DJ hears and shouts "baby sisser UP!"

Happy half birthday, little one. You've ALWAYS belonged. I see you showing us just how much with every passing day. Thanks for being one of us. You're a natural at it.

xo,
mama

A video documenting your first 48 hours....

apple picking with my top picks

2019-11-13T16:00:00.000-05:00

A few weeks ago, we headed to the mountains and took the girls apple picking. This is a fall tradition for us and has often turned into a "birthday road trip" for me over the years.

little babies in 2011 at the top of carter mountain

In 2011, Ben called me on my birthday, told me to get ready and picked me up from my college dorm for a surprise day trip to Charlottesville. Back then, "Carter Mountain" wasn't an overused fall catchphrase in Virginia. It was quiet, new, and charming. It was both our first time and that day remains a special dating memory (where he actually gave me my first piece of jewelry, too!)

This year was Darcie's third time, but the first time she actually "got it" and subsequently talked the whole 2 hour drive home about picking apples and eating "eenuts" (donuts). She was our designated taste tester, but didn't quite excel at her position as she bit into apples from the ground and declared "mmm yummy!"

Banks dozed in the Solly wrap and looked cute while doing it. She's our chill kid currently. She watches her big sis, always with those cute eyebrows raised, as if to say, "woah, you can do that, too? you're the coolest ever." All the while DJ practically runs up the mountain, talks to everyone in her path, gives us a full-on commentary every step of the way, and somehow finds a "walking stick" that *ALMOST* went home with us.

It's a sweet season we're living out. The nights are long and the adult conversation is short, often interrupted by hungry tummies or the repetitive "mama! mama! mama!" But I love scheduling and committing to days like this. Making adventure work. Making memories. Making exploration happen or so help me! It's a beautiful opportunity we have to show our children the playground of the world.

Even though Carter Mountain is crowded now and the traffic makes you wanna turn around, we still go every year to pick apples. And I pick this trip again and again. Because I love Virginia in the fall. I love the blue ridge mountains. I love the memories attached to this place. I love putting sweaters on my girls and telling them we're going on an adventure. Because I love the car ride with Ben where we listen to whatever new album we're loving. I love the coffee in hand and the car naps and the anticipation of a family day spent with the ones I love. Because I love the apple cider donuts and the autumn colors and the winding road and red barn when you get to the top and the scenic views and the hand holding & baby carrying & apple fetching where strong arms help little arms reach the highest ones.

long live all the magic we made

2019-10-19T17:02:00.000-04:00

The state fair makes me THE MOST nostalgic. We don't make it every year, but I'm turning THIRTY this month so when Ben asked how I wanted to kick off my birthday month, I immediately decided a family trip to the state fair would be IT.

It was magic. Even though we were in the throws of potty training, we managed! I realized it was Darcie's first time in a public restroom so by the end of the day, we had made many, many trips to try and pee in the "pee pee place" as she so creatively named it.

Fried oreos were a crowd favorite and we brought plenty of snacks we could throw in front of DJ anytime she yelled "hotgog!" or "fwies!" (since fair food will break your bank if you let it!) I took her on her first ferris wheel ride and it was a moment, for sure. Although, hands down, the petting zoo was her most favorite part.

Here's a little 1 minute video of the sights and sounds of the fair!

mother's day & 41 weeks

2019-05-11T21:30:00.000-04:00

Day before mother's day, 2019....

41 weeks pregnant...

10:05pm and thunder storming. Ben & I are on the couch, watching Friends and listening to the rain.

The house is clean. All the projects and honey-dos are done. Pots and pans are washed and put away from the delicious homemade spaghetti sauce Ben made for dinner, to which he then turned around and whipped up chocolate chip cookies that Darcie calls "tooties" or "teats" (treats). We did bath time and bedtime all together, savoring it a little extra, and letting Darcie play in the tub a little extra -- because who knows what life will morph into over the next few days. Ben read We Are The Gardeners in our nightly reading spot in the rocking chair. Darcie loved pointing out the bugs and flowers and baby.

Speaking of flowers, Ben came home with some earlier today. Because oh yes, it's Mother's Day tomorrow. Although, I keep forgetting this weekend holds any special meaning because I'm so preoccupied with birthing a baby -- or the fact that I haven't yet. He handed the first bouquet to Darcie in the kitchen out of sight, whispered something to her, and she proudly came around the corner with her little hands grasped onto white tulips, grinning ear to ear while obediently handing me the bouquet. Ben came behind her with a second bouquet and a quiet, "Happy Mother's Day, mama." My heart melted at the gifts I already have.

We're waiting to meet our baby girl who will make our other little girl a big sister. The sweetest & fiercest big sister there was. It's all so surreal -- knowing your heart is going to implode and double in size soon to let another little one in, yet all the while looking at your sweet 21 month-old and wondering how you'll ever love another like you love her wild and silly self?

Tonight, as Ross & Rachael "go on a break", I'm distracted by my own thoughts of change. The good kind, but the kind that stretches you and breaks you and burdens you all the same. How will I do at balancing life with two? How in the world did my mom do it with 10?! How will I give them both what they need when they need it? How will I overcome the guilt when I fail? How will I make sure I give myself grace? How will I keep my wife hat on straight with a busy toddler and dependent newborn? What will our new daughter look like? Sound like? Be like? How will she be different from her sister? How will she be the same? Daddy is holding out for blonde curls and blue eyes. My sister told him that is quite specific and includes a lot of recessive gene requests. I will be perfectly happy with a third set of dark chocolate brown eyes to love & get lost in. We yearn to know her...feel her on the outside, see her take her place in our family.

In these waiting days (and they have been longggg), I have tried to be intentional in soaking up Darcie time while also preparing my heart to enlarge...and welcome a new little sisterhood into our home! I find myself in Darcie's room, envisioning it with tandem playtime, snuggled up reading books, magical memories that these sisters will share.

Tonight with Friends episodes in the background, my heart & head is holding hold onto the ordinary, insignificant moments that are everything to me -- gathering them up and cherishing them and knowing they'll be the ones I'll yearn to relive.

Like the sticky spots on the window from Darcie's little hands touching the glass as she waits and watches for Daddy to come home.
Or the Sunday afternoons spent snuggling in our bed, watching mickey mouse on my phone for way too long...her cheek against my cheek, loving the rise & fall of her contented breathing.
Or the way she without fail scoots across the couch to sit nearly on top of me while we watch a show together -- and then her baby sister inevitably moves underneath my skin, a jab here or kick there, already getting in on the action in her own way.

Throwaway moments or revolutionary moments...it all depends on perspective.

So to the girl sitting on my belly and to the girl cozy in my belly...thank you for giving me the most precious gift, the gift of motherhood. You are my life’s work. My calling. My own small mark on the future of this world. I will gladly go the distance with you...on the big days & the daily days, the grand & the grind, the loud “I love yous” & the quiet stillness of just knowing you’re known & seen & believed in. I love being your mom & look forward to seeing you BE SISTERS.

Now, come on, baby girl....we can't wait to love you. I can wait to be to you what I am to Darcie. Your mom. The one you'll need and love as fiercely as I need and love you.

babymoon round 2

2019-04-19T17:08:00.003-04:00

Mostly pics, but just had to dump some good ole memories from our little getaway (40 miles from home) that was SO restful and relaxing and vibey.

Some highlights:

- All I wanted was a tub in my room. All I wanted was a luxurious bath. Sweet husband tried so hard during check-in but the only room with a bathtub is only booked through corporate and not even Kanye West got that upgrade when he was last chilling in Norfolk, VA (allegedly).

- We strolled japanese gardens and snapped pics in a reflection of a macaron shop with the city scape in the background and just so happy in the moment.

- There was a photo booth at the rooftop restaurant that we frequented every night. We watched the lights on the water and curled up by the fire pits, talking, laughing, dreaming.

- Bath robes and coffee was a thing in the mornings. Who knew you could be so happy to just sit and look out a window at ships in the harbor?

- Local coffee always. But also, overalls might not be the best when you're 37 weeks pregnant having to pee every 10 minutes.

- Our niece, Brighton Eliana, was born halfway through our time away so we took a detour to welcome her to the world (and also kiss our little DJ while we were at it 'cause you know).

- The food. Fresh salads, eggs and bacon for breakfast, funnel cake fries dipped in nutella, ramen bowls, frozen yogurt, and let's also not forget the enormous pretzel with beer cheese. Praise the Lord.

- A fire ravaged Notre Dame and we watched the footage and read the headlines, heartbroken, with the rest of the world.

- Exploring the city, but also super content to find little corners in our hotel, plop down, and talk for hours...because the hotel was that beautiful. And the natural light was that superior.

- Strolling main street with my main squeeze.

- Anticipating our baby girl. And holding our breath for the future while relishing the quiet togetherness we shared.

What a wonderful thought it is that some of the best days of our lives haven't happened yet.

Newfoundland Love

2018-07-30T15:23:00.000-04:00

I was born at Grace General Hospital, affectionately referred to as “The Grace,” on the corner of Pleasant Street and LeMarchant Road. It was late October of 1989. I imagine the brisk air swirling in from the bay while snow threatened to pepper the cliffs in the harbor. The window in the maternity ward overlooked colorful houses lined up along narrow city streets. In the distance, blue harbor waters held large ships that sat still, awaiting their next voyage.

But now, The Grace is gone. Disassembled from the top down. I don’t actually know why. They say it was old, outdated, obsolete. All I know is I spent 10 years away from St. John’s, Newfoundland… enough time for me to grow up, enough for me to get married, enough time for an entire hospital to vanish.

In 2013, for our one year wedding anniversary, a dream was fulfilled: I introduced Ben to my birthplace. After a decade of being away, I revisited the island heralded on my birth certificate and it made me realize all over again just how over the top in love I am with St. John’s, Newfoundland. It’s a place that is mistakenly underrated – even sometimes unknown – but it’s so special, so spectacular, and so sentimental. I remember trying to keep my cool as Ben stood and took in the same views I loved as a child – back in the 90s when I peered out from the giant bay window in my grandparents’ home on the hill, neatly nestled near the wild blueberries and bubbling waterfalls. It all came back to me. That decade of distance faded away. Crumbling like the bricks of the old hospital. My foreign home inched closer to familiar.

Just as I remembered, the tundra land was alive with green. The earth, cold…even in July, but the trees, dense…making everything emerald. Little houses sat perched at the base of rocky cliffs with docks that stretched 10 or 20 feet out into the Atlantic Ocean. Thick fog disguised the true reach of the water and kept hidden the hundreds of miles we had just sailed overnight on a ferry. Rain drizzled, mixed with mist. A gray-blue hue hovered in the air. Cascading cliffs cast shadows on winding roads, making even semi-trucks look miniature. Yet, a safeness swept over me.

I remember pushing my forehead against the car window as we tapped the breaks on the steep hills that led us downtown. My far-off memories because alive, little vignettes of conversations, outings, moments popping up like reruns of my favorite TV show. I saw the St. John's harbor come into view below us. Within a few blocks, we were enveloped in brightly painted houses they call “jellybean rows.” Unassuming locals under light jackets strolled the rainbow streets. The scent of fresh seafood came in whiffs, sailing in from restaurants that boasted “the best fish and chips in town.” That feeling of home knocked on the door of my heart. All those times we walked along the industrial dock with the water on our left and First Street on our right. Here we teetered the lowest elevation, where the city of hills climbed down to meet the harbor.

As a child, my mom would hold my hand tightly as me and my sisters stood near the water eagerly watching crew members prepare their ships to go out to sea. We passed Ziggy’s food truck, still parked in the same place all these years later, a nod to the island’s simplicity and predictability. I’d walk down Water Street with my Aunt from her high-rise office building during lunch breaks to get fries (to this day the best I’ve had…maybe because Canadians do it right with the malt vinegar…) I loved going to work with her — a regular activity for me during the summers I spent in Newfoundland. I would write made-up stories on her old typewriter and pretend I worked for a newspaper. I would put my hands against the floor-to-ceiling windows to gauge the chill floating in from the water. I would gather office supplies and charge loonies and toonies to rent them to her colleagues. My very first business co-founded with my older sister, Taylor.

Peering out of the car & pointing out landmarks to Ben, I realized the harbor referred to as “the narrows” did seem a little smaller than I remember, the high-rise buildings a little shorter. It was always larger than life, this city…but now returning, it seemed quaint, cozy….like home should feel.

After that trip in 2013, I knew I wouldn’t be able to stay away for long.

So when we had a baby last year and began discussing our family vacation, Ben and I knew it needed to be Newfoundland. The safety. Vastness. Comfort. Nostalgia. It’s everything I wanted and plus – we had a new tiny person to make the wonder even more wonderful. Lucky for us, my entire family was itching to return to the island. So we began making plans for the big trip 1,795 miles northeast. Some of us drove, some of us flew, and let’s just say it was difficult (to say the least) to find an airbnb to house 22 people for a week, but we did it! And the timing was perfect for us to once again celebrate our anniversary – this time five years with our almost 1 year old daughter in tow.

We stayed within walking distance to the downtown charm. Morning strolls in 60 degree weather to get a latte was a thing – daily. Our house sat along a neighborhood trail my mom used to walk every week as a little girl when she’d go to her grandmother’s house after piano lessons. We were across the street from a grocery store…and you better believe there was a constant crew heading over for snacks or last-minute ingredients for dinner or to satisfy the regular hankering for a Pineapple Crush (Newfoundland staple).

It was good for my soul to spend the week with family. Our house growing up was always lively and wild…and slowly we’ve grown up, some of us married, and have homes of our own now. It was like the old days without having to get in our car and leave at the end of the night! For one week we did everything together – wake up, eat, play, plan our day, explore. Easily the best perk for me personally was having one of Darcie’s aunts (there are 6!) knock on my door every morning when Darcie made her first peep (could they have been sitting there waiting?!) They’d scoop her up, whisk her away, and…we. got. to. sleep. in. A mama’s dream! I honestly didn’t feed her breakfast one time the whole trip. Sisters are a GIFT, are they not?!

One of our first days together we hiked the East Coast Trail…vast cliffs overlooking rocky coves tucked away from the expanse of ocean waters. We took our time…in no hurry as we scaled the rocks down to where the jutting earth met the water, or climbed to the tallest point to soak in the views, or hopped from stone to stone to cross a bubbling waterfall, or grabbed a hand of one of the nieces & nephews who were experiencing it all for the first time. The trail led down to Middle Cove Beach, a rocky beach where the water stays cold year-round and the wind is always bringing you air that is fresh & free. We hung out there an hour or two…skipped rocks, helped the littles add greatly to their rock collections, found the coolest shaped stones like hearts or letters.

Every day was spent doing something nostalgic. Something that seemed magical even if mundane. Family dates for ice cream where we’d lean in to hear stories of my mom growing up, or wasting time chatting over coffee or meandering through souvenir shops. Visits with our Aunt Frances in the most vintage home you could imagine…and her handing out trinkets from decades past for us girls to display in our own homes…or pulling out clothes from her closet to send back with us (because she is a professional shopper and we get to benefit). Trying traditional food such as split pea soup or fries with dressing or toutons with molasses around the biggest table we could get in crammed eateries on a rainy day. A girls’ brunch with three generations of women sharing plates & stories. Whale watching in the bay (where our instagram videos later got featured on local news channels). Iced mochas in a remote cash-only shed-turned-coffee-shop where my 16 year-old brother spotted everyone because he was somehow the only one carrying Canadian money. Meeting up with cousins for a bonfire on the beach with hotdogs & s’mores, the shore dotted with crackling fires, bundled up bodies, and pots full of boiled mussels. Laughing and reminiscing while the sun faded on the horizon. Large batches of nutella lattes made in a Ninja blender every morning by my big sister. Late night singalongs with guitars and 20 voices. Drives to the easternmost point of North America, Cape Spear, where my brothers scaled rocks and got yelled at by park rangers and the lot of us freezing and shivering because we didn't consider the elevation when getting dressed. Tea time with my sisters in a Quidi Vidi Village, a fishing community with the cutest cottage-turned-restaurant.

Newfoundland is a special place – the cliffs & barrens, the sweet air & foggy mornings, the wildflowers & islanders. It all sweeps you off your feet & keeps you there for a long as you want…it wasn’t long enough for me.

We love you forever, St. John's.

independence day in more ways than one

2018-07-05T01:09:00.000-04:00

Fourth Of July is one of my favorite holidays. Although I'm only HALF American, I take that half pretty seriously, hence why I love celebrating this wonderfully privileged country -- and I don't take for granted that I get to live here and raise my family here thanks to the brave men and women who have made it possible.

There's just something about a SUMMER holiday. Fourth of July is really the only one! Right smack dab in the middle of the magical season of summertime. I think that's another reason why I look forward to this day....the buzz of people making plans, the patriotic outfits, the firecrackers and sparklers and bubbles and sprinklers and sidewalk chalk, the full pools, full grills, and full hearts. It's just so perfect!!! I admit, this year I planned coordinating family outfits and stocked up on bomb pops and snagged a red & white checked table cloth for the brunch we're hosting. My husband rolls his eyes. But whateverrrrr.

July 4th, 2013

This day also represents a lot to me personally - a nod to my own evolving independence as a woman. It's been a day that embodies the elements of feel-good summer with the feeling that all holidays from then on will be different. It's a day that's found me celebrating my country with my family, anxiously waiting on the cusp of something new.

In 2013, July 4th was the last holiday Ben and I spent together with different last names. Our wedding was one week later. I distinctly remember holding onto that day -- cherishing it. Going home after fireworks and staying up late with my sisters...talking and laughing...knowing in the back of my mind those sweet sister hangs on the third floor would soon come to an end. I remember driving around in the back of my parents' van, holding Ben's hand and thinking ONE WEEK ONE WEEK ONE WEEK ONE WEEK until we're married. I remember getting giddy about all my holidays forevermore starting and ending with him. I remember wondering what traditions we'd start and where we'd celebrate in the years to come and who we'd be when we got there. In a way, that slow day off work from my 9-5 job to eat hotdogs and make memories was my last hoorah before giving up independence as Destiny Morrow to become Destiny Rothwell -- a woman who would live with, learn from, look to, and love someone else with her whole heart. I was on the cusp of the rest of my life, my happily ever after, my love story climax.

Fast forward to 2017. Five years later and July 4th somehow managed to be that same "final" holiday before life as we know it would change for good. I was 37 weeks pregnant. I woke up that day with the palpable feeling that this was it. Our last holiday before our baby would forever be part of the festivities. It was a FULL day -- made perfect by things we love with the people we love most. We had an early family breakfast with my Dad's homemade waffles then hit the road to Richmond where the lot of us (19.5 to be exact - because Darcie made 20!!!) took over the tiny Nordstrom coffee shop at the mall before shopping sales and getting Mexican food at our favorite tex-mex place. I remember I wore the only sandals that still fit my swollen feet. I remember I SAT on a mannequin platform at H&M while my sisters tried on clothes because why did we walk the mall in its entirety and just why would I be in need of any new clothes with this belly? I remember being so uncomfortable, but SO HAPPY. Like, so happy. Maybe the chips and salsa had something to do with that -- and my favorite faces shoveling them down so fast the poor table server couldn't keep up. We headed back to my sister's house and next up was (not quite legal...?) fireworks and sparklers (next up for me was BEDTIME, but I'm never one to bust a party so I had to put my game face on). I was so exhausted and my feet and back and everything ached so badly that I literally couldn't stomach the thought of standing in the cul-de-sac and hollering at the boys to "take cover" or watching the kids' eyes light up with every "pop." So Ben kindly opened the trunk to my sister's minivan and I tried to lounge back there and still see everything and "be present", but I couldn't make my awkward body work right and the baby's foot was in my ribs and blah blah blah I finally told Ben to just take me home.

July 4th, 2017

I may have drawn a hot bath the MOMENT I walked through the door. And I may have been legitimately shocked that my feet could actually get that fat. Yes, July Fourth may have been the day I REALLY realized I was super pregnant. That night while soaking in the tub, all I could do was dream about next year...actually having this baby with us...not being pregnant...not falling asleep to the pops of firecrackers in the truck of a car with a spare tire jutting into my back. It was my last holiday without kids. The last time it would just be me and Ben. The last time there wouldn't be a third Rothwell -- a mini American experiencing the magic of holidays. I had that feeling again. Like I was on the cusp of change that would change me. Like I was letting independence slip through my fingers. As if my existence wouldn't just be about me anymore. And I knew I was about to do that surrender thing again...surrendering Destiny Rothwell to become mama. Twenty-three days later, I did just that.

Today is July Fourth again...2018. One year after the non-shopping-trip-with-Mexican-food-that-gave me-indigestion-best-day-ever. With this one in the books, we've officially celebrated EVERY holiday with our Darcie James. I kinda want to congratulate her for living to see all the special days that she'll one day understand and appreciate. Life with her is better than all the best holidays combined. It's been SO fun adding her to every celebration. Who am I kidding, she MAKES every celebration. Each one a little better than the last. Each one holding such irreplaceable memories that I feel a little like I did on July Fourths past...like everything I know is changing, shifting, fading. Like this day inevitably forces me to hang on a little tighter -- my thumb not able to catch the corner of the page before it turns on today and tomorrow's header will be a whole new chapter. And right now, I just want to truly saturate myself in the moments before they're relegated to live on in my memories. Today was just too sweet.

July 4th, 2018

Her laugh-squeals when we toss her up in the pool or the surprise-turned-to-pride when she slaps the water with her palms and it splashes up onto her sunscreen streaked cheeks. Or the frustration that no matter how many times we say "no", she will. not. stop. biting. the. pool. noodle. Her determination as she kicks her little legs to get as close to me as possible. The way she crosses her chubby ankles when lounging in her floaty. Or the uncoordinated wave to her dad at the grill while she lives her best life in the pool. The cuddles after swimming because she missed her nap but won't miss any of the action, daggonit. That summer smell of sunscreen on her soft baby skin...me breathing it in deeply every time I pick her up. Her cute belly poking out of her outfit...and those bare feet that I kiss probably 50 times a day. Or the way she polishes off a whole hotdog and then some watermelon and sliced cheese...and chugs down la croix from a straw because she's fancy like that. The crawling and cruising and exploring...and my anxiety when she finds yet another small object to put into her mouth. Her babbles from the backseat and her fake "coughs" because she's figured out that whenever she coughs, we look at her promptly. Her tight squeezes whenever we ask for them or the way she smiles and puts her hand on her mouth to blow kisses literally every time she sees me and Ben kiss.

In 23 days, her first year will come to a close...she's checked off the big stuff and ready to move on to toddler-hood. And mama ain't ready. I feel that word surfacing again: independence. But this time from her. And it comes out of nowhere. With no warning of attack. For the past 12 months, I've been everything possible for a tiny human who is absolutely dependent on me. I've spent so long conceding my own independent identity that I didn't think I'd come face to face with the term again so soon. But here it comes....independence...charging in like the early Americans fighting for freedom. She'll fight for hers. And I will have to relinquish it slowly but surely. And yet, as a mom, I know I will always battle for her. Advocate for her. Be dependable for her. She'll find her voice, her place, her light. And I will be there to make sure they never go unnoticed. To make sure they light up like fireworks and resound like the shot heard around the world.

Goodbye, July 4th...until next year.

darcie's first vacation!

2018-06-11T23:27:00.000-04:00

Ever since Darcie was born, I've been itching to travel with her! I know traveling with a babe isn't always a walk in the park, but I just reeeeeally wanted to bring her up to speed on what a hashtag rothwell roadtrip is all about.

We planned a vacation to Florida piggy-backing off my sister-in-law's college graduation and my brother-in-law's master's graduation -- both happening the same weekend at Southeastern University. So we booked a hotel in Tampa and headed down a week early, just the three of us, before the full-on festivities began!

It was magical. JUST MAGICAL. Yeah, the beach isn't the easiest with a 9 month-old. And we learned nap time definitely gets in the way of exploring, and you have to PLAN your day way more as parents...and you might even consider driving through the night to capitalize on those sleeping hours, but nothing beats family fun with our girl.

The sunburns will face, but the memories will last forever. Like Darcie's laugh every time she caught sight of a seagull at the beach or the way she clapped and mimicked "yay" whenever we headed out for the day, or late night chili's in the hotel room after the baby was in bed, or lazy morning cuddles or poolside dinners on the grill or chunky thighs in tiny swim suits or another family selfie in another coffee shop.

Here's some of the places we ventured!

Orlando
- Winter Park (ate lunch at Swine & Sons, of course spent WAY too long in Rifle Paper Company, coffee at Barnie's Coffee)

Tampa
- Armature Works (got coffee (which I subsequently spilled ALL DOWN my white t-shirt), ate brunch, and milled around to smell flowers/sample sweets, before taking a long walk outside along the water)
- Hyde Park Village (ate at Bartaco, cupcake from Sprinkles, and explored all the cool shopping!)
- Buddy Brew Coffee
- Oxford Exchange

St. Petersburg
- Don Caesars Palace
- Pass-A-Grille Beach
- Twistee Treats
- Intermezzo Coffee

with you.

2018-05-12T16:27:00.000-04:00

I'll remember the way you clung to me as I lifted you from the bath & wrapped you in your towel and snuggled you close and kissed your wrinkly toes.

I'll remember you chubby thighed and close. Always close. Reaching up to touch my hair, rub it between your fingers, and bury your face in it.

I'll remember your head against my chest, your eyes blinking slowly as you fight sleep, your hand absentmindedly stroking my arm.

I'll remember the night you threw up at 6 months old and yet were still so content. And we called our doctor and googled and went to buy pedialyte and listened to my mom's soothing voice.

I'll remember the toughness of your Dad when you had your first fever at 9 months old. He drove to the pharmacy at 1am while also sick as a dog to get you baby Tylenol. Anything for his girl.

I'll remember singing lullabies, rocking, and you singing back to me. I'll remember your hugs and how you'd lean in when we'd say "SQUEEZE."

I'll remember you crawling around while Daddy laid hardwood floors and you'd blink really fast when he used the hammer.

I'll remember coming in your room after naps...your feet pounding the mattress in excitement, your eyes glowing, your checks rosy from sleep.

I'll remember the way your eyebrows shoot up when you get a good bite. You loved eggs yesterday, then wouldn't eat them today, so I dipped some in ketchup, which you ate, but then you decided to suck all the ketchup off and spit out the eggs unthawed.

Honestly, I can't see how I won't live always wanting to be in this moment. With you.

And one day the laundry will be done, the rooms will be tidy, the coffee will be hot, the dinner will be on the table by 6pm, the hair will be washed. And yet I'll miss when you sat on the floor and whined and reached until I came and picked you up. Or the long moments I spend next to your high chair waiting for those tiny four teeth or finish chewing wherein your lips start smacking and palms start hitting the tray and I feed you another bite.

I'll ache that there were ever times I wished away. And I'll bargain that I'd give it all away just to hold you once again to my chest.

God said I need somebody who can shape a soul and find shoes on Sunday mornings and get grass stains out of Levis.And make dinner out of nothing and do it again 79, 678 times, and keep kids off the road and out of the toilet and in clean underwear and mainly alive though she’s mainly losing her mind and will put in an 80 hour week by Wednesday night and just do one more load of laundry.And one more sink of crusted burnt pots.And keep on going another eighty hours because raising generations matters and weaving families matters and tying heart strings matters and these people here in hidden places matter.So God made a mother…-Ann Voskamp

darcie's nursery tour

2018-01-31T23:09:00.002-05:00

One of my FAVORITE projects while pregnant was designing Darcie's nursery. When we first bought our home 4 years ago, we planned for the extra bedroom beside the guest room to be an office until we needed it for kiddos. But we never got around to making the office idea happen....so it was perpetually a storage room (FULL of boxes) until I took a pregnancy test and Ben said, "Well, I guess now we have motivation to finally do something with that room!"

I spent so many weekend mornings cozied up on the couch with my laptop scouring the internet for inspiration, waiting for packages full of pretty things to arrive on the doorstep...and as my bump grew so did my love of carefully curating a special space we'd bring our little girl home to.

This tiny room...a total of 10 feet X 10 feet was a true labor of love. All the details were lovingly chosen to evoke the warm & fuzzies with the most peaceful vibes. As I decorated, I would envision slow mornings spent playing together on the floor, afternoon greetings when a rosy cheeked babe woke up from nap time, and evening cuddles in the rocker with story time. It was all of those things and so much more. I'll never forget when I first brought her into her room. The morning after we got home from the hospital and I woke up to a baby and the feeling of happy happy HAPPY. I took her into the nursery, opened her dresser drawer, selected the inaugural outfit, sat in the chair, cuddled her close, and decided I never, ever wanted to leave. The morning light was just right as it stretched across the floor. My heart was just right as it stretched with more love than I thought possible. My daughter was just right as she stretched and yawned from that newborn slumber. It was in that moment when life seemed to be exactly what I always wanted. And to top it off, just when you think it can't get any better, Ben incidentally brought me a nutella latte and toast on ezekiel bread with strawberry jam...making it seem all too much like a fantasy world!

Such a special, special, special room -- my favorite in the whole house and the only one I always kept clean. It was pretty difficult leaving this beautiful haven just 5 months after finishing it (as our moving process happened rather quickly), but these photos below will always allow me to look back on Darcie's first room, which houses so SO many sweet and challenging memories for me.

My lovely friend Ashley from Luke & Ashley Photography graciously offered to take nursery photos (AND help me pack up my kitchen all in the same day!) Thank you, Ashley, for your part in fulfilling my home tour dreams for my blog!

So alas, here's her humble beginnings in the tiny square room...

For my baby shower, we had everyone bring books in lieu of cards. This collection is so special to me and I loved putting everyone's favorites on display right next to the chair where we have story time.

*insert s/o to Jane Austen, Canada, and Star Wars*

Ben contributed a lot to this nursery (putting together the crib and other furniture for starters) but my favorite thing he did was build this sweet ladder! So proud of all the hard work he put into making a custom piece we can have forever.

This little pink bear was my first stuffed animal...all the way back from 1989. The little bib says "Baby's First" and I think it's SUCH a sweet, personal touch to Darcie's space. Mixing my life with hers is my favorite.

The "It Is Well" cross-stitching was a surprise gift from a dear friend from high school. I love the touch of green to accent the florals in her room.

MY HAPPY PLACE.

The donut rattle was the FIRST thing we ever bought for our one-day Rothwell Baby. Long before we were pregnant. We found it at a favorite restaurant / shop in Tampa, Florida on one of our many vacations (#rothwellroadtrip). It was just too sweet to pass up...and Ben was super ready for a baby & thought any attempt to get me to buy in to the idea would be worth it. ;)

side note: being a mama is my greatest adventure, calling, and purpose.

Too curious to focus on the story...

Her little toes!!! And her namesake book. <3 p="">

SOURCES:

Glider Rocker: Delta Children // Bookshelves: Amazon // Gold Pouf: Overstock.com // Marquee Sign: Target // Rug: Rugs USA // Lamp: Target // Changing Table: Wayfair // Storage Baskets: Target // Pom Pom Garland: Pottery Barn Kids (sold out) // You're Pretty Print: Lindsay Letters // Mary Jane Shoes: Monkey Feet USA // New York Print: Rifle Paper Co // Wooden Rattles: Bannor Toys // Crib: Babyletto // Crib Sheets: Burts Bees Baby // Macrame Wall Hanger: Home Goods // Changing Pad Cover: Little Unicorn // Blanket Ladder: Custom // Ballerina Throw Pillow: Target // Unicorn Plush Toy: Target // Swaddle Set: Little Unicorn // Play Gym: Hatchling Co

darcie's birth story

2018-01-11T09:59:00.001-05:00

It was Thursday, July 27th, 2017 at 6am when we gathered the last of our things, shut the door, got into the car, took a deep breath, and headed to the hospital. We had cleaned the whole house the day before, made the bed that morning...JUST so that everything would be perfect for our daughter.

We were having a baby.

WE WERE HAVING A BABY. (!!)

I was exactly one week past my due date and because of possible complications with my Crohn's Disease, the doctors thought it was best to go ahead and induce to avoid birthing a bigger baby. And the day had come!

It was still dark outside as we drove. We were quiet, both wondering how the day would unfold, both excited that by the end of it all we would see our daughter's face. When we arrived at the hospital, we were at the height of our emotions...it was really happening! And yet I wasn't in labor so it didn't feel real. As we juggled our bags, one of them ripped, the contents spilling out in the parking lot. Both feeling a little anxious (first time parent syndrome, ha), we started snapping at each other, which led to tears on my part, which led to comforting on Ben's part. It was all a mess...and a blur at this point. Life before Darcie in general feels like a distant dream.

In the maternity ward, I smiled to myself as I filled out paperwork. 07/27/17. A great day to have a baby, I thought. Isn't there supposed to be something significant about the number seven? Probably.

The nurse checking me in asked if I had a birth plan to give her.

"Nope! Just a healthy baby!" I had sat down a few times to "write" a birth plan and just couldn't envision what I'd want in the moment. So I decided just to trust my body, the doctors, and my husband. Let's gooooo.

Once we were settled in our room, my brother, Nicholas, showed up at 7am generously toting delicious Chick-fil-a breakfast (bless his soul). I'm a BIG breakfast eater and pretty much need it to function. Right as we were unwrapping the hot biscuits, the nurse came in and gently reminded me I could only have liquids. Definitely rookie status over here! I asked if I could AT LEAST have my iced coffee and she mischievously smiled, "as long as I don't see you take a sip."

So there I was. Not in labor. Really hungry. Sneaking coffee. Really anxious. And impatiently waiting. It seemed like FOREVER before I was hooked up to pitocin and the ball was rolling.

And roll it did!! Once I had my IV, I went from feeling hardly anything at all (& enjoying the perks of hospital popsicles) to doubled over in pain, teeth chattering, and announcing to the room that I was going to throw up at any moment. One of my funniest (if labor can ever be funny) memories is of Ben holding my barf bag and panicking at the contents.

"Um, she's throwing up blood." He told the nurse in the most calm yet terrified tone. The nurse barely offered a glance before correcting him matter-of-factly, "that's cherry popsicle." Looking back, I am. so. happy. I. did. not. eat. the. chick-fil-a.

The contractions WERE NOT following any sort of pattern. At first, they were come and go, but then they'd linger for minutes on end. Ben helped me "breathe through the pain" but I kept noticing the contractions weren't subsiding. And then when things would finally calm down, 10 seconds later they would be back in full force. I couldn't catch my breath, kept throwing up, and was only 4 centimeters dialated. I had a LONG way to go and I decided I didn't want to go the whole day this way. My sweet husband kept encouraging me, breathing with me, and squeezing my hand. But AS SOON AS I said to him, "I want the epidural" he didn't waste a breath before announcing to the room: "she wants the epidural...let's go!"

At the beginning of the day they told me that the anesthesiologist would take about 30 minutes to arrive from the time I requested the epidural -- that it would be the worst 30 minutes of my life if I waited too late to make the decision. But everything went so fast from grit-my-teeth bad to puking-shivering-sweating-writhing TERRIBLE that I almost cried thinking about waiting for some person somewhere being my only hope to take me out of my misery. The nurse returned a few moments later with some of the best news all day: "you're in luck! The anesthesiologist was actually a couple floors down and will be here shortly." I remember wanting to demand EXACTLY what shortly meant. How many minutes and excuse me, but is he HURRYING?! It was probably only 10 minutes before he arrived (although it felt like an hour) and I could have hugged him when he walked through the doors. He immediately started giving instruction / explanation that I could never repeat to you now if my life depended on it. This part is all a haze, but I remember honestly wondering how he expected me to get to the edge of the bed when he pointed to where I should sit. There was no way I could move from my fetal position...haha. Ben helped me and then was instructed to sit on a chair in front of me (even though he SOOO wanted a peek). I always thought I'd be super nervous about an epidural, but when the time came, I was welcoming it with OPEN ARMS and after trying to lighten the mood / distract me by saying things like "it's your DESTINY to have a baby today" and tossing in a couple Destiny's Child jokes, the anesthesiologist worked his magic -- and I barely felt a thing.

Afterward, things got much better. My mom arrived and shout out to her because her presence alone helped put me at ease...not to mention the drugs (HA). The afternoon seemed SO LONG as we waited for my labor to continue to progress. Ben held my hand the whole time and even spent time reading me Psalms, which filled me with renewed strength for what was coming later. Around 7pm I got wind that a lot of family had arrived in the waiting room. Ben's brother and sister-in-law had brought me a chicken platter from Pierce's BBQ and I agonized over not being able to eat it. I told Ben a few times to eat it, since he hadn't eaten since breakfast, but he very kindly declined every time saying they brought it for me, bless him.

I'm a bit of a people pleaser and couldn't help but feel the pressure to "perform" set in. Everyone was waiting for the baby...so where was the baby?? What did I need to do to "get things rolling"? How could I speed up the process? My mom calmly informed me that I was on no one's schedule but baby's. I tried to be patient, but I couldn't shake the idea of people hanging around until midnight and slowly dwindling off one by one -- too tired and irritated from wasting their night in the hospital to meet their niece.

I felt very eager, yet still nervous when they checked me and informed me I was 10 centimeters and her head was right there! Nicole, the nurse, told me we were going to do a practice push to see how much I could move the head. And I panicked...this is it!! Wait, don't we need to get the doctor?! Why aren't you getting the doctor?!?!? The nurse gave me instructions, I did my best, and she said, "you're ready to go!" She must have seen my demeanor shift (maybe my face turned white?) and asked, "what are you so nervous about?"

"I just don't want to push for hours and hours. I really don't want to do that."

"Oh, honey...that baby is coming now. You'll push 15 minutes tops."

Ben, who had stayed calm and collected all day, went into panic mode and decided he needed to take on the job of informing everyone of the update. He jumped from his chair and darted across the room to get his phone, "I gotta text the family, I gotta text the family!" I quickly directed him to get his cute tail back over here and let someone else do the communicating. "My mom can text people. Come back here and don't move!"

Seconds later the doctor blew in with his crew, bright lights, and the whole 9 yards. THIS. WAS. IT. The rest was a blur. I pushed about 9 times in 15 minutes and it was the most exhilarating thing in the world (my sister photographer BARELY made it there to take photos of baby's grand entrance). I remember them letting me know her head was out, telling me to keep going, saying I was almost there. I remember Ben holding my hand and holding his breath during every contraction as I pushed. I remember my mom standing next to the bed looking from the doctors back to me and giving me the most heartfelt encouragement. But there's about 3 seconds where things went black (is this normal?) -- they told me to give one more push and I pushed with all my might then things sounded REALLY far away...and Ben's voice seemed to get closer and closer as he cried over me, "She's here! She's here! You did it! You did it!" over and over and over again. It took me a minute to comprehend what had happened. That I just birthed my daughter. That she was here. That I was DONE. I began to cry. And couldn't stop. At 8:36pm, they laid a screaming 7lb baby on my chest and I think the world stopped. It was pure magic. She was crying. I was crying. Ben was crying. All he said over and over was how much he loved me. How much he loved her. He leaned his face close to mine, his nose on my nose, and stroked her tiny body, calling her by her name. Darcie James. Suddenly she stopped crying, opened her eyes, and just stared. Her eyes taking in whatever they could. My mom gasped and said, "Destiny, she has your eyes!" My heart exploded. She was actually, seriously, absolutely, definitely MINE!!!!

I had made a worship playlist that'd been playing all day. It was important to me to have the atmosphere just right with music that would help me remain focused and calm. The song playing when she entered the world was "Here Now" by Hillsong United.

Here now
Still my heart
Let Your voice be all I hear now
Fix my eyes on things that I can't see now
Spirit breathe like the wind come have Your way
'Cause I know You're in this place

It was spiritual moment. The presence of Jesus marking the moment two became three, the moment our family changed forever, the moment our love grew deeper and stronger than we thought possible, the moment we welcomed the next generation, the moment we extended our hearts to a tiny person who will carry our name and continue our legacy.

Still my heart.
Fix my eyes.
Spirit breathe.
Have Your way.

Soon after I nursed Darcie (also an amazing experience), the room began to fill with people. First my sisters (who kept telling me how proud they were of me), then the rest of the family followed. Someone reminded me of my now cold meal and I nearly cried with joy and hunger. I will forever herald that chicken BBQ sandwich, mac & cheese, and those french fries as the best food I've ever, ever, EVER tasted. The most satisfying meal of my life. Also the most savored meal of my life. It's a joke now about how ridiculously long it took me to eat a normal sized meal...relishing every crumb as people passed around Darcie for the next hour. One of my little brothers had the nerve to ask for a bite and my mom quickly came to my defense: "she hasn't eaten in 15 hours and just did the hardest work of her life." Thanks, mom. I love you for protecting my post-labor fries. You're the greatest.

We somehow scored the largest labor & delivery room in the hospital and it's a good thing because that night we had 30 people crammed in the room to meet our little love. And everyone got to hold her before they left! I know...I'm crazy. But I think I was more overtired than overprotective...exhaustion won out! We were in the hospital anyway...a super safe place for a baby to meet all her extended family, right??? So meet them she did. All while I continued dumping BBQ sauce on my smoked chicken. I told you it made a forever impact (thank you, Breanna & Isaac!) It was really special having both sides of our families there together. The two grandfathers quieted the room and prayed a blessing over Darcie's small, yet already significant life. They prayed boldly over her future, for her to grow in compassion, kindness, and courage. Ben and I prayed many, many prayers over her while she was in the womb so it was fitting to start her life on earth the same way she spent her life inside me.

Our first night as parents was something I'll never forget. We managed to make it until 11:30pm or so and even then...I had to remind myself that I should probably sleep. You don't think to sleep in a hospital...I don't know what it is -- maybe the sterile environment, the feeling like you're just visiting, the tiny human you don't want to take your eyes off of, or the nurses buzzing around like bees, wide awake and peppy. And maybe it's just the aftermath of all the excitement. I had this "what's next?" mentality...adrenaline mixed with awe. I had just accomplished the greatest feat of my life and felt on top of the world, soaring...like I could do anything. Who needs sleep?! Ben not so much. He grabbed some blankets and made himself as comfortable as possible on the small couch. Darcie slept soundly in the hospital crib nestled in the space between the bed and the couch. Unknown to her, she was rightfully taking her place where she'll stay forever -- right between her dad and me...the middle of our world...the center of our love.

The lights were off. The machines were quiet. The family was gone. The excitement was over. The nurses had shut our door. This was us. My family. All together. My dream. Goodnight, rockstar husband. Goodnight, my darling daughter. Goodnight, most perfect day ever.

It was raining that night...it actually rained the whole weekend we were in the hospital. But that night I fell asleep listening to the rain, lingering on every rapid breath of our very own daughter sleeping just an arms reach away who was finally with us and who we would finally get to know & love. I drifted off only to have a nurse come tumbling into the room rolling a cart right up to my bedside to get my vitals AND TAKE BLOOD at 1:30am (is this normal? I think it might have been because they worried I would need a blood transfusion during delivery and were just keeping an eye on my hemoglobin levels...?). Getting stuck with a needle when you're half asleep is about as fun as it sounds. But my bigger concern was disrupting that little newborn slumber. If you wake up my baby, lady...

Darcie did wake up at 3am coughing up fluid, nearly giving me and Ben heart attacks. Rookie parents at it again. Apparently babies swallow fluid during the birthing process that they cough up for a day or so. The curdling gagging sound caused us both to SHOOT up instantly. The moment I twisted to reach for the baby, I became KEENLY aware that my epidural had worn off. SO painful. Ben swiftly picked her upright so she could cough better and then cuddled her close to comfort her. Seeing him with her made my heart melt despite my physical discomfort. In the darkness of that hospital room were the two brightest lights of my life. Ben jumped into full on Dad duty because I could barely move. He changed her diaper -- to which she peed and pooped halfway through. He then spent 10 minutes practicing his best swaddling skills -- to which Darcie kept breaking out of. Whew! She was already testing his patience 8 hours in. HA.

The next two days were blissfully full of flowers, gifts, coffee, and visitors. Whenever people offered to bring food, I happily requested specifically whatever gave me crazy indigestion while pregnant. Buffalo chicken wraps, fruit smoothies, caramel macchiatos, greasy pizza. Hallelujah. We felt so loved and supported...realizing over and over how seriously loved this baby would be. It takes a village and we kept smiling thinking we had the best of the best. My sweet husband was the PRO organizer / communicator / coordinator of our schedule. He made sure people got to meet our daughter while making sure I was recovering well, keeping on a good nursing schedule, and getting time to adjust. I am so grateful for his strength in keeping us all on track always. He attended to my every need. Comforted me and cared for me as I navigated those first few days of motherhood. I knew right away that this was just Ben doing Ben things: serving and loving and balancing and protecting. Darcie will come to know these things well.

We headed home on a Saturday. And felt very emotional leaving the hospital. You go in without a baby and you leave with one. Strangest thing. It feels like you procured the child at the hospital and that's where she belongs, never to be taken from her natural habitat. She's safest there anyway...they're good at taking care of her. They shouldn't really trust 20 something young parents on their own with this highly fragile human being. Our sweet nurse walked us to our car and gave us a hug before we loaded up and headed off to our new reality. Darcie screamed the whole 10 minute drive home while we futively blasted Hillsong lullabies. The most magical moment was when we walked in the door of HOME. Darcie immediately stopped crying, calmly concentrated on my face, and then slowly moved her gaze across the room. This is your home, sweet little love. I cried and cried (Ben didn't know what to do with me)...tears of happiness...completeness...relief...exhaustion.

I DID IT. SHE'S HERE. WE'RE HOME. IT'S THE BEGINNING OF EVERYTHING.

promises to my daughter in a coffee shop

2017-07-15T14:48:00.000-04:00

Dear daughter,

It’s Saturday morning and I’m sitting in a coffee shop thinking of you. I woke up and declared it was the perfect day to treat myself to brunch -- who knows how much longer I will have the luxury of alone time with your soon and imminent arrival! Saturdays will soon look quite different. So I got dressed (no easy feat these days), gawked at how big my bump is, kissed your daddy goodbye, and headed downtown. I wasn't the only one with this idea and therefore had to park a little farther from the cafe than I would have liked, but people keep saying, “walk that baby out” so I shrugged and rolled with it (and almost ate it tripping on a curb). I'll admit to you, I parked in two hour parking three hours ago…but I just can’t bring myself to walk back out in that heat at 39 weeks pregnant. So I'm crossing my fingers that I don’t have a ticket waiting for me. July in Virginia is no joke, you will learn. Pool parties for all your birthdays, deal? Deal.

There are more productive things I could be doing right now with a nursery to finish, closets to organize, errands to run, etc. etc. etc. but I’m told I should “rest” before you come, so I interpret that to mean camping out in a corner booth in a relaxing atmosphere to eat good food, drink an iced latte, and write with no agenda whatsoever. Go me!

I ordered an avocado omelet with tater tots. The tater tots won me over. I’ve been craving potatoes like crazy while you’ve been growing. I’ve always been a french fry fiend (it will be EXTREMELY difficult to share them with you when the time comes), but it's expanded to the dangerous -- loaded baked potatoes, hash browns, kettle cooked chips, anything! I've heard about strange cravings... like the women who want to eat paint or something. I’ve just had sudden urges for really yummy things... gummy candies or corn dogs or soft pretzels or buttery biscuits or FRUIT. ALL THE FRUIT.

I wonder what foods will be your favorite. Your dad already discusses (with glee) all the blended concoctions he is planning to make you. Your weekly menu will probably be more sophisticated than ours. I wonder if you will love brunch as much as me. If you will request breakfast for dinner or take pride in making and savoring that wonderful morning meal. I can almost imagine your eyes lighting up when your daddy says waffles or donuts are in order. We've been talking about all the weekend traditions we will start. We’re waiting for you to be be a part of all the memories from here on out, which is so exciting for me. It feels like everything is a suspended breath before you show up.

This coffee shop keeps playing the best music. “XO” by John Mayer, “Heartbeats” by Jose Gonzalez, “Here Comes The Sun” by the Beatles, "Vienna" by Billy Joel. Your daddy and I love music. Back when we were dating, we made each other mix CDs full of all our favorite songs and we’d give them to each other to play in our cars nonstop. You won’t know what a CD is…and cars aren’t made with CD players anymore, but don't worry, we’ll be sure you know all the songs we love. I can’t wait to see you bop your head, clap your hands, dance to the beat, and even SING along! Family dance parties will be a common occurrence and I think you've been getting a head start by practicing your moves from the womb. Maybe you've been eavesdropping on what we've been playing. I created a playlist called "For My Daughter" full of soft ballads that I think will serve us both well during nighttime feedings and nap times. You will find I make playlists for everything and I only thought it fitting that you have your very own -- an initiation to the Rothwell Square, if you will. I think you'll like it. I think it will suit you.

One bad thing about being in one place for a long time while pregnant: the amount of times you have to get up to pee, and the people around who definitely begin to notice. As I walk past, they look up from their coffees, glance from my belly to my face and offer up a smile, or the bolder ones will ask my due date and consecutively exclaim, “you can’t be five days away!” I just nod and smile politely because what do you say to that?!

The doctors say you’re a little thing. At one point, you were in the 8th percentile for growth! Will you fit into any of the clothes we have for you? They also say not to worry (or buy preemie clothes) because you will grow fast, which is both a relief and a reminder to truly cherish you in all your newborn deliciousness. You'll change everyday and the days will race by and soon you’ll be wearing makeup and getting your driver’s permit. Okay, okay…I’m getting ahead of myself. One look at the newborn size diapers and I’m put back in place. But even those seem SO SMALL. I can’t imagine a human with a tooshie that little!

There’s a lot I try to imagine; there’s so much I wonder about you. Yesterday during an ultrasound the technician said she saw little hairs on your head. It’s a good thing because with this heartburn, I’m nearly convinced you’re Rapunzel in there! We wonder if you’ll have dark hair like daddy or light hair like mama. Will you arrive late like I always am? Or will you be reliable, prompt, and predictable like dad? I could sit in this coffee shop all day and dream about you. Downing one choco-nut mocha after another…or maybe not because I’m not supposed to have that much caffeine while you're still in there! I try so hard to understand what it will be like to hold you in my arms, but it's been 39 weeks and 2 days of you and me like this, your tiny frame nestled in mine, that anything else doesn't seem possible.

We promise to love you. We promise to do our best to anticipate your needs and ease you into the rhythms of our life. We want to share it all with you. We promise not to slow down, but to keep moving forward with a new sidekick for all our adventures. You'll fit right in. Like you were always meant to be there. We promise to let you change us. To let you stretch us and teach us about sacrifice, selflessness, and surrender. Pretty soon my body will no longer be your home and we promise to give you a good new home, a soft place to land, somewhere you'll love and long to be.

Right now, you're a little mystery kept safely under my ribs, but I'll work everyday to learn everything there is to know about you. I'm proud of the way the ligaments in my body have stretched to accommodate you -- my mind and soul with it as I ready myself to be your mother. I promise my patience and I promise you peace. I won't be superwoman and I won't be perfect, but I will be your normal. I will be your comfort. For a time, I will be your sustenance. And I will be perfect for you.

I promise to breathe through the tough moments in our first weeks together and exhale kisses onto your cheeks a billion times a day. I promise to get stronger, get more comfortable, and get some sleep...eventually...for both our sanities. I promise to ache when you ache and laugh when you laugh. I promise to put you first, to sacrifice so you can flourish. I promise to teach you things -- even the hard things -- when the lessons are hard for you and hard for me -- because we will both get better, and I will learn with you. I promise to stay grateful, to not take you or this gift of motherhood for granted. I promise to love your dad and model the respect he deserves so you will learn to give it too. I promise to be present. I promise to celebrate you well. I promise to grow with you. And when the time comes, I even promise to share my french fries with you.

I love you so much, my daughter.

xoxo,

mom

babymoon bliss

2017-06-14T07:30:00.000-04:00

If you know me and Ben, you know we love to travel! We've had the privilege to do this so much throughout our marriage due to Ben's benefits working with Hilton hotels. It's a sweet side gig that can get us hotel stays for such an affordable price! We've always loved the fun of planning our next adventure, mapping it out, making a playlist, finding fun places to explore, documenting everything with #rothwellroadtrip, and getting away from the routine for a few days to just BE and have FUN.

Family vacations were a huge part of my childhood. I have such sweet memories of summer road trips where we entertained ourselves in our 15 passenger van by playing the license plate game and convincing my mom for more snacks (she always had stashes and stashes, but rationed them out so meticulously!) We would stop at rest stops and picnic in the pavilions...the boys would play football, the girls would play with the babies. We'd pass the time and the miles by journaling and reading Anne of Green Gables and listening to our portable CD players. We'd cheer and holler when my parents announced Olive Garden for our dinner break, piling into the restaurant after hours cooped up in the car and my parents would smile apologetically at our servers and tip a little extra for the cranky kids. I still don't know why Olive Garden of all places was such a favorite. Probably because we could eat as much as we wanted with unlimited bread for the boys and salad for the girls. We'd whine when my Dad would insist we were not stopping to pee...again. We'd inevitably fight over someone's feet on our seat or someone drinking the last capri sun. We'd overnight in cities I wanted to live in like Nashville and NYC, my adventurer's heart leaping and soaring as we pointed out landmarks from the windows and walked streets that seemed larger than life to my adolescent soul. I've always dreamed about making similar memories with my future family. And Ben and I look forward to all the adventures to come for our family in our new Ford Explorer -- with our "The Explorers" playlist. Filled with all our favorite music, it will carry us from destination to destination with our precious baby girl in the backseat. Bliss...

But before we plan these trips for three, we decided to prioritize one last hoorah just the two of us...a little babymoon before baby comes to ~~crash~~ join the party! Last summer, we spent a beautiful week in a cabin on the lake in Michigan (courtesy of our very gracious and hospitable honorary parents) and as we talked about babymoon destinations (most tropical places were ruled out because of the zika virus), we knew this little slice of heaven would be the perfect place to relax and reconnect before our world turns upside down in the best of ways.

We kept our pace pretty slow most days, but sprinkled in a few day trips to get out and about. The beautiful cabin we stayed in is nestled right on Hamlin Lake, a quiet lake that's connected to Lake Michigan. We were 5 miles down a dirt road and 30 miles from any real civilization. It was fun to stock up on groceries and make yummy meals between lounging on the dock or cozying up by the fire. The roof of the cabin was lined with large skylights and we'd literally sit in the living room and watch the sun move across the floor all afternoon as we read, talked, drank coffee, and watched sports (haha). Our bedroom was in the loft of the cabin and felt a little like a dreamy treehouse surrounded by the woods and water. The bed was topped with a beautiful homemade quilt (shout out to Mama Judy) that added SUCH charm while the mattress sunk in just a enough where we'd wake up every morning cuddling in the middle of the bed. I won't complain about THAT! We slept in, kept the windows open, and let the lake sounds act as the BEST white noise ever.

For fun, we visited nearby cities for shopping, coffee, and some exploring! We loved strolling main street in Manistee -- a quintessential American street that raves antique shops, book stores, fabric stores, bakeries, ice cream shops, and even an old dime store! The shops sit adjacent to the Manistee Riverwalk that leads right onto the beautiful beach of Lake Michigan where there are parks, picnic pavilions, and a lighthouse! It was too cold to swim, but this is a definite for next time. Best part about swimming in Lake Michigan? NO sharks and NO salt water!

We took another little road trip to Traverse City. Such a cool place with tons of little gems to enjoy....complete with a free wifi network for the whole city. We started with coffee (of course) from BLK / MRKT, a beautiful warehouse coffee shop with lots of windows, greenery, and black & white aesthetic (my love language)...it's also attached to a plant shop where you can build your own terrariums! Afterward, we walked around downtown...and squealed a little at every children's boutique we stumbled across (there were a lot and we had to practice a lot of restraint). We lunched at a YUM comfort food restaurant called Harvest where Ben declared he ate the best chicken sandwich he's ever had (yes, better than chick-fil-a). Originally a food truck, they just opened their new space that has the best atmosphere, local sodas, and a daily changing menu. We loved it...just wish I could experience their weekend brunch. Next time! Another place we highly recommend is a cute espresso bar / bakery / cafe called Morsels. This shop overlooks the West Grand Traverse Bay and offers gorgeous views of the water. It has the most DELICIOUS bite-sized baked goods -- both sweet and savory -- that are the perfect little treat after walking and shopping. The coffee is amazing and the breakfast/lunch menu looks just as good.

It was kind of surreal-- we were just the same old Ben and Destiny -- on just another trip together -- until we'd remember we're not -- and we weren't. At times, it felt so unseen, the impending change, until we'd look at my baby bump and then each other with a "this is it" look in our eyes. The ending to an era...and the start of the best one yet. This season that has lasted 8 years (four dating, four married) is coming to a close and while the flow of the trip felt like any other, the feeling of the trip felt entirely different. There was a special "make the most of it" attitude as we ventured together, stayed up late together, and made no plans together. There was the hope of so much more just weeks away from us that actually made us eager to go home (to nest, hello!). There was a flicker in our spirits as we drove our new "family car" and imagined it being full of coos, cries, and cuteness. There was a definitive "YOLO" feeling as we drove to the water to watch the sun set at 9:32pm, taking our shoes off and putting our toes in the wet sand where the waves crawled back and forth (people say we'll likely be in bed by this time in a year from now).

Our conversations shifted with new flavor and different timbre....parenting, retirement, budgets, strollers. Should we do a diaper subscription? How many bows are too many, I mean really? Will our daughter have brown or blue eyes? When will we allow her to get her first cell phone? Should we set up a trust fund for her?! And so on. We talked while sunbathing on the dock by the water, listening to echoes of children's laughter and squeals floating through the breeze from their nearby cabins, canoes, and boats. I bet this is their favorite place on earth, I thought. I bet all their best memories are here. We'll bring her here, we decided. She'll love this little haven up north where you wade out to giant sand dunes and take a boat across the lake to get pizza from a waterfront dive.

We sat with our feet dangling off the dock, enjoying the coolness of the water, breathing in the quiet, knowing uninterrupted calm and relaxation will soon become rare commodities. Reminded of that sentiment every time speed boats and jet skis sliced through the glass-like surface of the lake, causing wind and ripples to sweep toward us, folding over our ankles with a gentle splash. Things will be so different. Life will be so fast. Stillness will be interrupted by the unexpected "suddenly" like these boats cutting across the water with loud motors announcing their arrival. Zooming past us...the way moments become memories before you're ready and you're left in the foam of the wake, trying to hang on to everything.

In just a few weeks, what's known will be replaced with the unknown, which will eventually become the known again.

And it's too weird and wonderful to figure out.

So we just sat there.

Our hearts resting in the moment with our feet in the water and our dreams somewhere in the clouds.