Mary Virginia is sixteen months old. If you’re a careful reader you might have noticed that I didn’t write a fifteen-month update. I’ve been late with updates before, but I’ve never completely skipped one. I’ve justified it, though. After all, we’ve been busy, I spent most of last month recovering from summer travel. Most importantly, Mary Virginia is my
David was sitting on my lap reading books, and he started to flop around and get rough like toddlers do, so I asked him to stop… Me: David, please don’t jump on Mommy. David: Why? Me: Because that hurts Mommy. I’m not wild like you, I’m old. He stops and moves on to something else…a few
There are times as a parent when you feel like you’re the first parents to ever do something, even though you know it’s not true. Tom and I weren’t the first people to have two children, but when Mary Virginia was born, the waters were so dark and uncharted, that it felt like it. Maybe we weren’t the first
David is three, which means this blog is three, too. Just a few days after he was born, in the late morning while he was snoozing beside me in bed I wrote the first post. That’s not entirely true. Tom started it months earlier. He created the URL and wrote the first eight posts chronicling our Fifty
To be totally accurate, the title of this post should be 37.5 months, because that’s how old David is. I meant to write this when David turned three, back on August 16, but things are still running a bit behind around here. David will forgive me, I hope, especially since one of huge reasons it’s
David has taken almost zero naps since he turned three. We still go through the motions, though, every day. After lunch we read a book, turn off the light, close the blackout shades, and I cover him with his blankets just the way he likes it — white blanket first, then green blanket. I give him
Sometimes I joke that the best way to describe my house is “looks like we just got robbed.” In my living room there are toys everywhere, books strewn off the shelf, a chair over-turned — it’s the normal scene in my house. It’s always been just a joke until last week. I went to pick
Can you tell what Mary Virginia is chewing on? It’s an onion. A raw onion. It’s the raw onion I stashed under her crib to try to heal her ear infection. She found it and walked around the house gnawing on it. Mary Virginia loves raw onions. Every time I slice an onion, she cries
I don’t know why I used to think that, as the kids got older, it’d be easier to take pictures of them. “Older” translates to “more cooperative”…right? That’s the sort of thing a mom of toddlers says. Like, “Oh, I can’t wait till my kids are teenagers and I can stop worrying about them!” Go
I already mentioned that our vacation was mostly rainy and overcast. In fact, it was SO rainy and overcast, that I can only remember putting sunscreen on my fair-haired, fair-skinned babies a grand total of one time. I know, I know, you can still get burned when it’s cloudy. But when it’s cloudy, raining, and you’re huddled