There’s a reeeeeeal bear problem in Richmond these days. I wriggle this bear outfit onto Anna on our coldest bus stop mornings. She bearly fits. (I cannot and will not stop with the bear puns, I’m sorry.) But this happens to be another one of the few things that all four of my babies have
I’m not going to use that cliché, the one parents always say at the end of the first year. The cliché I used when David turned one, the one I am so very tempted to use. I am not going to say that this year flew. The phrase implies that time slipped through our fingers
Last Saturday I cut Thomas’s hair. The night after The Haircut, we were all sharing our rose and thorn at the dinner table, Thomas’s thorn* was his hair cut. And the next day, he put his hand on his hair and said, “Mommy my hair is still cut, right?” And on Thanksgiving day, when everyone
We had four full days of Thanksgiving travel and festivities. We had a great time, and at the top of my “Thankful” list is all my relatives who bent over backwards to accommodate my rambunctious crew and their various eating and sleeping requirements. Despite everyone being amazing, the kids were out of their normal routines.
When I first heard the Bible’s story of Anna the prophetess, I was moved to tears. A life of faithfulness, devoted to worship, proclaiming the name of Jesus. I imagine reading the verses to my daughter one day, telling her, “This is the story of Anna, whose life of faith pointed to the faithful One.
If David had any social media account, this should be his profile picture. It so well captures him at this age — always bent over a book. Actually, either this picture or one of him sulking Charlie Brown-style because I just asked him to put his book down because it’s time for dinner, or bedtime,
To celebrate Anna’s birthday, I got one of those mylar number balloons that I see all over Instagram and blogs. They are completely unoriginal and #basic, but what the heck? They make for an excellent photo, everyone knows it. It was cloudy and rainy on Anna’s birthday, so I set up the balloon near a
This summer Anna blew through baby clothes sizes so fast I could barely keep up. 6-9 months, 9-12 months, 12-18 months. “Hmmm, this can’t be right,” I thought when shimmying a pair of 2T leggings on my 11-month old baby. I kept a very weather-inappropriate fleece sleeper in Anna’s drawer all summer because I wanted
I’ve spent the last few weeks feeling a bit sad, a bit in disbelief. Soon my fourth baby will turn one, and then she won’t be a baby anymore. Perhaps it will surprise no one at all to find out that I’m feeling very, very sentimental about this milestone. This time last year I was
Now that I’m an adult, I often think back to events from my childhood and I realize I never had any sort of appreciation for the work my parents did to make them happen. Pumpkin carving fits squarely in that category. Looking back to my own childhood, I do not remember my parents finding time