Mary Virginia is eight months old. It seems unbelievable to me because when she was a newborn, I assumed that by now I’d have my act together. Floors vacuumed, regular showers, dinner on the table at a reasonable time. And all I can think about is that most working moms get 12 weeks of maternity
This is a picture of the blonde curl on David’s forehead. It is also a picture of a radio head. Get it? Radiohead. This makes me laugh, mostly because it wasn’t Tom’s idea. Tom, who tries to explain the time signatures in Radiohead songs on every car trip we’ve ever taken. Tom, who thinks the song
Lately Mary Virginia has been a bit fussier than normal, a bit droolier than normal, and waking a few more times at night than normal. I think — and I say this with all caution — I think she might be teething. She might not be. Any book about babies and development will say that you can
If you happen to follow my blog with a reader (like Feedly, gReader, or Bloglovin’) you might have noticed a post this weekend that was a little different than my typical content. I hope you realized the post wasn’t legit — we were hacked and spammed. We don’t know exactly what happened, but Tom is
By now, these snow pictures are two snows old. This is before the southern snowstorm that’s currently outside, before the three-inch snow-pacolypse that knocked out our power, left us without internet and cancelled schools for a week, and after the “2014 Cold Wave” better known as the Polar Vortex. This was our first snow, a typical
The good folks at Overcome the Lie asked me to write a post for them, and I was immediately excited because I knew it’d push me to take some time for self-reflection. I started ruminating in a leisurely way, with a cup of coffee and my journal. And then just after the holidays things in
I don’t like winter. Not even one little bit. In “The Lion, the Witch and the Wardrobe”, C.S. Lewis uses winter as an allegory for a world overcome by evil. Without hope. Without Jesus. And it’s an image we can all relate to in a visceral way because we’ve all lived through the months known
All day every day I walk around the house humming “Blue Eyes” by Elton John. Because I can’t help but think that when he wrote the song, this is what he had in mind.
The Richmond running community — and community at large — is mourning the loss of Meg Cross Menzies, who was struck and killed by a drunk driver while running. To honor Meg, over 61,000 runners (and counting!) around the world are running Saturday, January 18 to honor Meg’s life and to raise awareness of drunken driving, texting
Mary Virginia is still in her baby tub, but this is technically their first bath together. And OH MY GOODNESS the fun! The splashing! The giggles! The bubbles! As soon as I pulled out the camera David turned around, faced the wall, and refused to look up. “No picture, Mommy.” No amount of bribery, trickery, or