The worst birthday ever

The worst birthday ever

Almost every year I write a blog post about my birthday. I didn’t do it this year because I had a really, really bad birthday. In the week before my birthday, I went to the grocery store and bought a few things to celebrate. Cinnamon rolls, bacon, and a watermelon. “I’d like to have some

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Five years old

Five years old

Today is Mary Virginia’s fifth birthday. She was born on her due date, June 7, 2013, with a scowl on her face. Mary took her first breath at 10:53 a.m., and since then she has not stopped talking long enough to take another breath. Now she’s five. Happy birthday to my curly girly, my Mary

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Rapidly approaching the hill

Rapidly approaching the hill

The day before my birthday HAPPENED to be the our first full day back after vacation. I don’t know if my kids are the only kids who do this, but my kids spend at least one entire day after vacation punishing us for going on vacation. Like, if you parents think you’re going to take

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Sixty months

Sixty months

David is worried about getting older because he’s worried that, when he grows up, he’ll like hot sauce and football. He sees how his father and his father’s friends consume hot sauce and football and so it seems inevitable that eventually his weekends will be full of Sriracha and shouting, “COME ON! THAT WAS HOLDING!” And yet, that didn’t keep

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F-I-V-E-!

David is five years old today. FIVE! And he still weighs less than the amount of weight I gained when I was pregnant with him. Everyone knows about the terrible twos, and then you have a three-nager. There is no similar catch-phrase for four-year olds. Or if there is I’ve never heard it. Four was such

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