Eight

Eight years ago today, a blond girl and blue-eyed boy stood holding hands in a little church.  She was dripping with white, he with black...ivy cascading from chandeliers above them.  In front of family and friends, they with nervous, shy smiles committed to the adventure of forever.  They said “I do” to the unknowns ahead—the bumps in the road and the catapulted victories of all that the knotted-two-now-one-union brings. 

And what a ride it was. 

Three homes in two states.  Uprooting and nesting again.  Two littles with one on the way decorated their home, wherever it was, with great joy.  A job lost.  Promotions earned.  A broken ankle; broken dreams.  The boy and the girl laughed so hard at times they could not breathe.  In moments, they were so angry with each other they could not speak.  Harsh words and unkind shoulders so devastated the other...standing, staring across the room, they wondered if repair was possible, if they could muster the courage to mend. 

Many of those who stood alongside them through the years, drifted away, drifted apart, shaking off marriage vows as they went.  And the boy and the girl decided to square shoulders and dig heals in a bit more, tethered and tangled.  They cried out to the Healer and Love-Giver.

And they were so glad they did.

They had aged, the girl and the boy.  They could trace the lines in each other’s faces and hearts.  But they chose to choose one another fresh.  They chose not to become hardened by the life they had not signed up for, but to let the disappointments, pain, isolation, and joy make them resolute, determined, strong.  They discovered that death brought life.  That comfort was found when forgiveness was offered to the offender.   And that the shelter of being completely known far outweighed the greener grasses that seduced and whispered their names.

Eight years later, Jon, I still do.  I still do take you as my husband to have and to hold today and all the days to come, whatever those days may hold. 

Happy Anni, Babe.  Love you so. 

This, That

We accumulated miles last week.

We celebrated my dad's 5-9 and hung with my cousin, Jonathan, visiting for the week.  We Bananagramed and watched Mike and Frank of American Pickers climb over heaps of garbage to find old pinball games and Laurel and Hardy heads...hidden gems in piles of trash.  We headed downtown for a concert on the river where littles ate ice cream cones larger than their heads and Eden asked Jonathan to dance.  I listened to my brother and cousins jam on guitars in my living room while I made dinner.  And we headed to my sister-in-law's place where I learned to fold and turn paper into origami cranes and where my littles had their first push-pop.  We broke in a little more summer with my sister, Krista, and her family visiting for a few days.

Photo by Kenna.

Photo by Kenna.

Saturday evening we crashed back at home, hearts hungry for a little regroup as a family.

I'm not sure how your week went last week.  It may have been littered with heartache or triumph.  I spotted this on Pinterest this week and was encouraged.

Everyday is a blank page.  And maybe you didn't like who you became last week.  There's good news.  The story isn't over.  And just like in a Choose Your Own Adventure book, you can change directions.  Set your sight.  Point your feet.  Be a better story.

Happy Monday, all.

Hello, Goodbye

True to time, July flew off, leaving August behind.  Hellos and goodbyes, hand in hand.


So-long July insta-week.


We said good-bye to paci's on the last night of July.  It was rough.  Eden has been throwing her paci's away each morning, one by one, all week.  She's been thrilled, so proud of how very big she is.  And Saturday night was the first of none.  Her little heart writhed as the reality sunk in.  She bossed, she pleaded, she scavenged for a stray paci in her bed, my bag.  And my heart ached as she struggled with her first loss.  Her first of many, I know.  And though we soothed, Jon and I were unmoved, knowing it was time to let it go. 

We make hard decisions as parents - knowing that the immediate pain is better in the long term for our littles.  But it doesn't hurt your heart less.  And when I couldn't take any more, I scooped her up out of her bed and laid her down in ours for the night.  Swapping one comfort for another.

And my baby-turned-big-girl made it.  She survived the night.  Tonight she went to her own bed and there were no tears.  We said hello to August.  And I am so proud of her.

We say other August hellos...

...to family - a visit from my cousin, my sister and her family, trips to my sister in law's place. 

...to my dad's birthday.

...and to eight years for Jon and I.

...to a haircut I desperately need.

...to every-two-weeks OB appointments.

...to washing up tiny little clothes and getting them ready for baby girl.

...and to baby-is-coming-house-projects: the loft play-room/office space, the guest/baby's room, Edie & Si's room, adding color to our family room... 



Pinterest inspiration for Edie & Si's room: (1) (2) (3) (4) (5) (6) (7)


Hello to enjoying the last drops of summer!  A happy August, all!