Since oh, I don’t know, the day I started feeding David solids, he’s refused to eat off a spoon. At first he’d grab the spoon and guide it to his mouth. Then he just all-out refused to eat off a spoon. He wouldn’t eat anything off a spoon; yogurt, cereal, not even ice cream. That’s
I’m writing this on Christmas Eve, sitting on the couch at Tom’s parent’s house re-watching Season 1 of Downton Abbey. I’ve had bacon for breakfast for five days straight, and I just ate a huge meal with ham, potatoes and broccoli casserole, finished off with a big piece of ice cream cake. As a complete
Here’s to a Christmas full of gifts, time with family, photo ops… …and lots and lots and lots of balls.
I sort of forgot about sending a Christmas card, but as soon as they started arriving in my mailbox I was decided we wouldn’t sit out this year. So I combed my hair, put David in his Christmas sweater, and went down to the James Center. Tom’s brother generously took the photo. He took a hundred
I’ve mentioned before that a guy said I looked like the Grinch when I was in high school, and, in hindsight, I agree with him. If I’m the Grinch, Tom is Ebenezer Scrooge. Last week he described using hot water to wash his hands “luxurious.” I do love Christmas, but I’m a little Grinch-y about some things.
December has been hard on David. Balls, by far, are his favorite toy, and all December he’s been told that he can’t touch the balls that are glittery, shiny, lit up, made of glass and hung on trees at his eye level. He’s broken two ornaments so far. Neither of them were ours because David
For the past several months I’ve been spending my Saturday mornings doing long runs, so the week after my race, I bundled up on Saturday morning and went to the park with some kids (many of whom were part of our Track Club). The trip to the park is called X-games, and it’s an informal ministry
When David woke up from his nap yesterday, my kitchen looked like this. He was understandably elated. You’re probably assuming he woke up early and caught me in the middle of a Halloween craft, but I actually planned this. I love, love, love roasted pumpkin seeds. Usually I just buy a couple of pie pumpkins
My mom’s grandmother lived on a farm, like lots of people did back in those days. So she, my great-grandmother, had to go out and milk the cows every morning. My mom once told me that while my great-grandmother was out milking the cows, she’d give her babies a box of pictures to look through.
David has cried whenever I cook anything since the day he was born. He did it as a newborn, a sitter, a dragger, a crawler, and now that he’s walking he has so much more leverage. Once he pulled my pajama pants down in a fit of rage when I was making his breakfast. A