Today is Mary Virginia’s fifth birthday. She was born on her due date, June 7, 2013, with a scowl on her face. Mary took her first breath at 10:53 a.m., and since then she has not stopped talking long enough to take another breath. Now she’s five. Happy birthday to my curly girly, my Mary
On the morning of Thomas’s birthday he woke up at 6 a.m. Everyone else was still asleep, and instead of doing what his siblings would have done at his age — stay in bed and scream until someone got him — Thomas got up, quietly walked around our house, then came into my room and
This is Mary’s new iPhone. My niece made it, and it’s easily the most coveted item in our house. Everyone wants it but no one can touch it. After all, Mary has a data plan to consider. Mary uses it like a fully functional phone — she takes pictures, she texts, she FaceTimes my mom.
Me at David’s preschool graduation: “Whoa!? People dress up for this?” Me on the way to Mary Virginia’s preschool graduation: “I have an inappropriately fancy dress, and three dress shoe options.” (She decided on her Crocs.) \ We also brought along an eye-rolling kindergartener who kept accusing me of not going to his preschool graduation.
In the middle of a spontaneous walk that ended up being admittedly too ambitious, foolishly close to lunch time, and with a stroller that was much too small to be of any help, Thomas decided he was done. He stopped, laid down in someone’s yard and yelled, “I can’t walk, Inna go ni-night!” I did
Anna is six months old, and she is all chub and drool and baby smiles. She is delightful, cuddly, ticklish, and almost always happy. People stop me all the time to tell me she looks like the Gerber baby, a Cabbage Patch doll (I actually agree with that one), or to comment on her rolls
Mary Virginia doesn’t approve of my day-to-day look. T-shirt, ponytail, no makeup, usually un-showered. She’s kind about it, but she wouldn’t mind seeing me put a little more effort in my appearance. Maybe a clean shirt from time to time, a swipe of lip gloss wouldn’t kill me. It’s fine, I don’t pick anything that
When David was a baby I used to make Cookie Dough Popsicles all the time. We would eat lunch together and then for dessert we would share one. It’s a sweet memory of that time, when he was little and an only child. That was six years ago, and lunches are a lot different now.
Thomas was filling a cup of water one day, when some water splashed on his sleeve. (A quick aside: Thomas enjoys the privilege of getting his own cup of water ONLY because he is in the unique position of having a six-year old brother and a 6-month old sister. He sees his brother doing six-year