“He had a broad face and a little round belly, that shook when he laughed, like a bowl full of jelly. He was chubby and plump, a right jolly old elf, and I laughed when I saw him, in spite of myself.” I know, right? I can’t think of a more seasonally appropriate poem to
Over the weekend Thomas got his first fever. It wasn’t a horrible. It was just a 24-hour thing, flanked on both sides by fussiness and hold-me-all-day-ness. After two doses of acetaminophen and 72 straight hours of snuggling, he was back to his normal self. People often make comments about Thomas, that because he’s my third baby he
Mary Virginia: Look Mommy! I’m twirling! I look like Cinderella! David: No, Mary. You look like Mary in a dress. Mary Virginia: Mommy, can I wear that alligator shirt? David: Uh, Mary, it’s not an alligator. It’s a dragon. Mommy: David, Mary Virginia is pretending. If she wants to pretend this is an alligator costume she can,
I don’t know why, but I always feel cliche saying I’m thankful for family on Thanksgiving. Because that’s what everyone says. I’d like to be more original. Profound. But what else is there? I’m thankful for high-speed wi-fi? For drive-thrus? That I’m raising three children after dishwashers were invented? Ok, those are valid. But what is more profound





