Mary Virginia turned two last weekend, and we had a little party to celebrate. And by “little” I mean little. Because normally when I say “little” I mean that I restrained the guest list to our 20 closest friends and their 400 children. The theme of this party was “mama just had a baby.” I
If you happen to see Mary Virginia anytime soon, make sure to compliment her on her newly erupted lower incisors. She’s been working on them for several agonizing weeks, and now that they’re here, they’re her greatest accomplishment. Or maybe mine. If you’ve ever read any of Mary Virginia’s updates, you can guess what I’m about
Mary Virginia loves babies. She acts like an over-eager grandmother when she hears about an infant. She gets so excited that she starts talking in falsetto, and has to channel her energy into frantically knitting tiny sweaters and bootees. Then when she’s actually in the room with an infant, she transforms into a middle-school-aged boy with a crush. She
Last week Mary Virginia turned 22 months old. I think it’s been my favorite month yet, and I’m not just saying that because I’ve gotten more sleep in the past month than I have since she was born. It’s not the only reason, but it’s certainly ONE of the reasons. Before you assume that the earth has fallen
I always dreamed of dressing my little girl in smocked outfits and grosgrain bows. It never, not once, occurred to me that I’d have a daughter with an opinion. Every day clothes are a battle. That shirt Mary Virginia was obsessed with yesterday? NOOOO! I NO LIKE IT! I no lika dat shirt! I find myself
These posts are getting harder and harder to write, and it’s not just because I’m getting lazier with each passing month. It’s because Mary Virginia as grows, she’s becoming more singular and harder to articulate. There are two things on my mind as I finally sit down to write this update, almost two weeks after she turned
To make this video even more adorable, imagine Mary Virginia wearing a soft pink smocked dress with embroidered bunnies instead of the oversized Salty Dog Cafe shirt she asks to wear every day. While you’re at it, imagine that, instead of screaming “Why’s he not in a cage?” from the other room, David is singing along.