Thursday, January 31, 2013


The puffy coat doubles her weight and triples her girth.

However, there is no mathematical accounting for how exponentially much it increases her cuteness.

Shopping Spree

Maggie goes shoe shopping!

Disclaimers: Please disregard Buzz Lightyear climbing on the counter, please know that we did NOT buy her baby Sperry's, and rest assured that we eventually took the credit card away from her.

Wednesday, January 16, 2013

Upside Down

Rain, rain, go away,
This mommy really wants to go out and play,
And if you refuse, and choose to stay,

Also, we're running out of ideas for inside play.

Tuesday, January 15, 2013

Henry's Glamour Shots

 Henry, modeling Loreal's True Red:
He thought it was Chapstick. Or, at least a good substitute.

Clearly, he was saddened by his mistake.
But, if it makes you feel any better, as soon as I snapped these pictures, I turned the camera around to show him how he looked in them, and he completely lost it laughing.

So I'm not the only one who thinks Sad Lipsticked Henry is hilarious. He agrees! And, I'm pretty confident that he'll never wear lipstick again.

"Makes me all sticky and taste like a candle," he reports.

Monday, January 14, 2013

Into January!

It's my goal to sort through and post Christmas pictures before January 25th. That's fair, right? A month?

But I feel like I'm cheating to just go on posting things about our January life before I'm caught up on our December life. That's silly, right? You guys don't care, do you?

To make myself feel better, I'm posting one picture from Christmas morning, and then tomorrow, it's January life!

And, just to keep you coming back for more, Henry smeared my lipstick all over his face this morning, thinking it was the same as Chapstick, and I took a picture of him while he was all lipsticky and crying about being red and sticky and JUST WANTING CHAPSTICK, for the love.

So, you know, look forward to tommorrow's post, where I exploit my son's misery for humor value! (And, posterity. Posterity is always my excuse for sharing embarrasing photos.)

Tuesday, January 8, 2013

Happy Birthday, My Little Magpie!

Dear Maggie,

Don't tell your father, but I've fallen in love with someone else.

It's you.

the morning of your birthday!
I don't think he'll mind all that much though, seeing as he's quite smitten with you himself.

Maggie, you are, quite honestly, the sweetest baby girl I ever could have hoped for. You are so free with your smiles, generous with your giggles, so full of fun. The way you snuggle up with me when I pick you up from a nap, or when I come home and see you for the first time, the way you smoosh your face into my neck and shoulder and squeeze, ohhhhhhh Maggie. Baby girl, it gets me every time. Every. Single. Time.

You had your first birthday a month ago, and I really need to write a little update for you soon. Record all the fun things you are doing, like walking and dancing and climbing and pointing and squealing and snuggling; all of the ways you are changing. And maybe I'll do that soon. But somehow, today, documenting all those little milestones feels like missing the forest for the trees. (Really, really, REALLY awesome trees! But, still, trees.)

So today, while you're asleep in your crib a few rooms away, today, while time is flying by, today I think I'll just try to tell you how much I love you, and then post your birthday pictures.

Pictures of the day when we celebrated the incredible gift of getting to spend a whole entire year with you. The gift of getting to know this sweet, stubborn, effusive, friendly, cuddly little girl. The gift of being able to call you our own. Our daughter. Our sweet baby girl.

Maggie, we love you so much. We love you on the days when you are all smiles, all cuddles, all toddling around and pointing and smiling and laughing, on the days when you are so incredibly easy to love. And we love you on the days when it is not so easy. And on all the days in-between. We love you like we never imagined we could. (And, your Bubba Henry loves you too! We can tell by the way he brings you toys and smushes his face in your belly to make you laugh.)

Your dad and I pray for you all the time, Maggie. We pray for little things like sleeping all night and not trying to eat the power cords, and we pray for bigger things like learning to obey and be kind, and we pray for your safety and for your faith and for your heart. We pray for the sweet little munchkin that you are today, and for the big girl that you are quickly growing up to be, and we pray for the woman you will become one day.

And Maggie, if your first year is any indicator, that woman will be pretty damn awesome. I seriously cannot wait to meet her. (No rush or anything, though. The whole 'growing up' thing makes me panic, so feel free to take your time.)

The first year of life with you has been one of the greatest blessings and deepest joys of my life. I am so incredibly thankful to be your mother. So incredibly thankful that you are my daughter. So incredibly thankful that you are the one who grew our family to four. Every morning that I get to scoop you out of that crib, and feel your warm body and your sweet baby breath and your chubby little baby-armed hugs I am incredibly, almost unbearably, thankful. Thankful for who you are and thankful that you are mine.

I love you, baby girl. Kiss, kiss, kiss, kiss, kiss, kiss, kisskisskiss!


Friday, January 4, 2013

On January 1st, I Ate A Piece Of Cheesecake While Standing In Front Of The Fridge

Happy New Year, guys! I have a ton that I want to post soon: Maggie's bday pictures & her one-year letter, half of December, Christmas pictures, the list goes on and overwhelmingly on...

But, instead, I thought I'd start the new year by posting the first journal entry that I wrote in 2013. A way of marking a new year, with new resolutions, but with the same me, struggling with the same things. It's not quite in keeping with our usual blog-tone, but it is in keeping with my usual inner-tone. Which is to say, a hot mess.

January 2, 2013

It's a new year! But the same me.

The same broken, excuse-filled, self-centered me that still hasn't filled up the New Year's journal I started three years ago. Who already messed up this shiny, smooth, new journal by writing the WRONG YEAR on the cover. (Seriously? Seriously.) The same me who slept in yesterday instead of getting up to exercise and write in this journal, LIKE I RESOLVED TO. Who hasn't stuck to a single resolution for a whole year, ever. The same me that so often is selfish and judgmental and lazy and cruel.

And I think during the last week of December, part of me forgets. Part of me begins to stir hopefully, renewing faith in myself. Part of me forgets how incredibly broken I am. How desperately I need. How deeply I fail.

And then, during the first week of January I dash my hopes all over again. I break my own heart. I resolve never to trust me again. I sleep in when I resolved to get up. I snap at my son when I resolved to be more patient, more present. I eat an entire piece of cheesecake while standing in front of the fridge when I resolved to... well... not to do that crap anymore. I write THE WRONG YEAR on the cover of my pretty new journal.

I feel caught, Lord. Caught between wanting to be better, to obey, to strive for beauty and perfection, and the knowledge that I am none of those things, and will never fully be them this side of heaven.

Please, prevent me from relying on my self, from putting my faith in me. Prevent me from thinking I can save myself, perfect myself. Help me instead to bring my resolutions, my hopes, my dreams, my  failures to you. Knowing that YOU are the one who bridges the gap between who I am, and who I will become.

New resolution: to lean on you more. To see clearly, daily, my own lack and your glory. To find hope and truth in the knowledge that when I am weak, you are strong.

And honestly, Lord, I'm still clinging to my other resolutions. They're really good ones! I want to eat healthier, exercise more. I want to be more disciplined about getting up in the morning, more diligent in spending time with you. I want to be a kinder, gentler, more patient wife and mother. I want to be diligent and hardworking and find more balance beween work and home. I want to be more self-controlled with our finances, and use our money responsibly. I want to be a better, more invested friend. I want, I want, I want. Clearly, I want heaven, now.

I look back over that paragraph of resolutions, and at first I feel hopeless. But then I look again, you show me the fruits of the spirit blooming up between the lines. I look and my desperate desire for love and joy and peace and patience and kindness and goodness and faithfulness and gentleness and self- control.

And I remember afresh, for like the 200th time, that those things come from you. Only from you. From being rooted in you, built up in you, dependent on you, faithful to you. That YOU grow those things in me. That I do not, can not, will never, grow them in myself. I remember that my only call, my only resolution, my only allegiance is to you.

So this year Lord, I resolve to leave my resolutions behind, in favor of trying, once again, to fix my eyes on you, instead of me. I resolve to break my resolutions quickly and repeatedly. And when I do, I resolve to bask in the grace and mercy that you unfailingly provide me. I resolve to find comfort in being less, because it reminds me that you are more. I resolve to find purpose in being weak, because it reminds me that you are strong.

So bring it, 2013! I plan to fail your challenges, fall short of your goals, and to be dissatisfied and unfufilled by any meager successes that I might fumblingly accomplish.  Because regardless of what I do or do not, I know that my Lord will hoist me up, carry me over the finish line, and rejoice over me with singing, so it should be a pretty good year, yes? Yes.