In the past year or so David has become increasingly interested in creating. He loves to draw, color, paint, cut, glue, and everything else. I love watching him, in part because a few years ago he didn’t like any of it — coloring, using stickers, or even playing with Play-Doh at all. Anytime I brought out
Eight years ago today Tom and I got married in the Blue Ridge Mountains. To celebrate, instead of following suggested tradition with a bronze gift, my mom and dad took our kids for a few days. We’ve never done this ever, never ever. Not even close. Everyone keeps asking what we plan to do with our
Thomas turned two over a month ago, but still whenever he hears the word “birthday” he immediately shouts, “IT’S MY BIRFDAY!” Nothing starts a fight in our family like someone saying it’s their birthday. Almost IMMEDIATELY Mary Virginia says, “NO IT’S MY BIRTHDAY!” and David shouts that it’s actually almost Berkley Grace’s birthday! And then
Technically, Mary Virginia’s first guess was right. Our kids have been suspecting a pregnancy for over a year (Mommy, do you have a baby in your belly? Then why is your belly so big?), and so once we found out we had another baby on the way, I was so, so excited to tell them.
This is the story of the weekend I cut my thumb. It involves a kidney stone, a block of gouda, and a surprise ending NO ONE saw coming. I’m going to try to make it as short as possible, but you know me… On the weekend of April 22 my parents came for a visit.
Since she was 15 months old, every time we go to the doctor for a well-check everyone comments on how verbal she is. It’s true, she is, and I take no credit. She could speak in complete, articulate paragraphs by 24 months and by three we were actively trying to discourage her language development. Just kidding. Kind
This post is a little out of order; I still haven’t written the entire story of what happened to my hand. That’s coming. But this is where I am now, exactly five weeks after surgery, nearly seven weeks after the injury. This is me giving a thumbs up. No, really. That’s all I got. Last week
Last year after the chaos of moving into our new house, we immediately shifted gears and started the chaos of selling our old house. The house didn’t need any major renovations, but we painted, cleaned, and replaced the roof. As usual, I let Tom take the reins for all the time-consuming, labor-intensive stuff while I focused on
Thomas turned two last week, and we celebrated with the most low-key kids’ birthday celebration our family has ever seen. When David turned two I had an almost-three-month old and I still managed to mail out paper invitations. When Mary Virginia turned two, Thomas wasn’t even a month old, and I still made a cake
Mary Virginia: Mommy, do you want to hear the song I made to help Thomas stop fussing? Me: SURE! Mary Virginia: Quack, quack, quack goes the little feather duck! [Thomas continues fussing] David: Um, Mary Virginia. I think you need to make the song longer. Mary Virginia: QUACK QUACK QUACK QUACK QUACK QUACK QUACK QUACK goes