Happy Birthday!

Beatrice is one today. It wasn't as sad as I thought it would be. Her vocabulary has quadrupled in the last 2 days and she is smarter than ever, so her growing up is starting out pretty cool. She also still nurses 4 times a day and I have decided to continue nursing through the winter, so that's not so different. Plus, I have no idea how to go about weaning because she is berserk for milkies. We're at the point where so tries to undress me to get to them. But that's another blog post. And now that she's officially not a baby (all of the developmental emails I get from Babycenter.com call her a toddler now), I finally feel comfortable putting shoes on her feet. I have a weird thing with babies in shoes. If they can't walk, I don't think they need them. But that's just me. And in the past week, I have bought her 4 pairs of shoes. I'm actually looking forward to her getting bigger and seeing how silly her personality is going to be. She is such a ham now, it can only get sillier.

I rocked her for a moment before bed tonight and told her the story of the night she was born. How I felt, what she looked like, how tired I was. She laughed and listened and patted me on the shoulder, just soaking it all in. Afterwards, JD and I recounted the past year and gave each other figurative high fives for surviving. It was a good day. I'm not quite ready to use the T-word yet, but I'm not scared of my baby growing up anymore.

If you want to read the birth story, do so here. Then vote below as a birthday present to our girl!

Steppin' Out Saturday

This is us before the party guests arrived. Link up with us at Harper's Happenings.

Beatrice:
Dress, Be Mine


Me:
Tunic, Forever 21
Leggings, Forever 21
Boots, J. Crew

Pink Polka Dot Balloon Pom Birthday At Home With Cake and Banner - Pictures Galore Edition

Today has been a whirlwind of pictures, cake, happy birthday to yous, toys and family. The party was a success and I am beat. Here are some pictures from the big day.

I made this sign for the front door. You know, in case the guests (AKA our family) forgot what they were doing at our house.

The birthday banner I made with scrap book paper, scalloped scissors and ribbon.

Cake from the yummiest bakery in town.

Tissue paper poms hung delicately over the gift table. (She had gifts overflowing onto the floor. Before this photo was taken, obviously).

There was chili with all the fixins, veggies with dip, meat and cheese, chips and dip, cider and cake. (I wrapped the sour cream container in pretty scrap book paper. Details people, details).

And there were balloons. We had a big cluster of pink and green balloons with a single red one to pay homage to Beatrice's love of Goodnight Moon. (Goodnight light and the red balloon).

The birthday girl loved her party. JD and I started decorating last night and she pointed and squealed at the banner and poms. The balloons were almost too much for her to handle.

Welcome to my party!

Having the party at the house was the best idea ever. We weren't rushed or stressed trying to remember things and we stayed pretty relaxed. Our family enjoyed the food and it was kind of nice celebrating her first year with the same people that were huddled into that hospital room one short year ago.

Did I mention there were presents?

And there was an outfit change before the cake was served. But I just realized that I never got a picture of it so here's a picture of her bloomers instead.

No one loves cake more than Beatrice. Except for maybe me. Check out my crazed expression. I can't explain it but it happens every time I see cake. 

She didn't eat any cake, but instead licked icing off of her fingers while saying "mmmmm." It was very ladylike.

At some point, she starting "loving" her cake by laying her head on it.

It was a great success and JD and I are overwhelmed at the generosity and support from our families today and this past year. Tomorrow is Beatrice's actual birthday and we have more exciting things planned. Today is over and we are all going to bed early. Happy birthday, sweet girl. Hope your party was everything you hoped it could be.

Unthinkables

So the unthinkable has happened. I am sick. I caught JD's beast of a cold and I feel like crap. Beatrice's party is tomorrow and I can't be sick. I didn't make plans to be sick so this has really thrown a wrench into everything. I've been speaking my health into existence (Romans 4:17) and gargling with hot salt water. Wanna know when you're officially a grown up? When you gargle hot salt water without your mom forcing you to do so. Which, by the way is my least favorite thing to do. But when you nurse a baby, you cannot take anything that contains antihistamines or your milk dries up. And wouldn't you know, cold meds are chock full of them. So it's hot salt water and positive speech for me. And a teensy bit of whining. I should've seen the sickness coming. I have been mixing things up all week and rearranging our days for appointments that never existed. I was certain that I had a hair appointment on Wednesday and switched around all of today for a 2 o'clock pediatrician appointment that is not until next week. My brain needs health to operate at full capacity apparently. 

So the party is tomorrow and most everything is completed. Did I mention that we have changed everything about the party? It's no longer at the park, we are having it here with immediate family only. We are serving chili, cider and cake. The 3 Cs of perfect fall party making. The other unthinkable thing? It's actually cold. The high today and tomorrow is in the 50s so our menu will be perfect. However, the downside is Beatrice has her 1 year pictures tomorrow morning. Outside. And all of her dresses and outfits are short sleeved. Will y'all think that I'm a bad mother if I don't make her wear a sweater? Or shoes? Because I'm just warning you now, you will probably see pictures of a 1 year old bare foot and in short sleeves in the cold. I can't ruin 1 year old photos with sweaters and shoes. Don't judge me...


Something unthinkable happened yesterday. 2 somethings, actually. Beatrice had her first (and second) waffle fry from Chick-Fil-A and had pizza for dinner. I have refrained from giving her any junk food her entire life but I figure with all of the cake she is about to eat this weekend, I might as well introduce her to fried, greasy goodness while she has the chance. Plus I'm sick and cooking is not happening right now. She loved it (of course) but she equally loved the lima beans I offered her in attempt to not feel so guilty for feeding my child crap all day.

The last and most unthinkable thing? I think I might love the cat again. He's been sleeping with me on the nights that JD is not here. Plus he seems so concerned with my health, it is kind of sweet. But don't tell JD. I will never hear the end of it. I guess the only other unthinkable things I can think of happening are that the party goes off without a hitch, I wake up feeling better and Beatrice doesn't catch the cold that is attacking my throat and chest right now. PRAY FOR US!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

What Baby Wants, Baby Gets

JD and I went shopping for Beatrice's birthday gifts the other day. We were only going to get a few toys, maybe some books, an outfit or 2. We thought we'd spend $50 or so. 5 DVDs, 3 books, 4 outfits, 3 pairs of shoes, and countless toys later, we left. We spent over $250. We got a little carried away. But it is her first birthday and we just couldn't help ourselves. And in all honesty, we have bought very little for our girl this year. We have been blessed to have our mothers buy most of her clothes and aunts and uncles have supplied her with toys. This first year has been relatively cheap. 

Everyone told us that having a baby would be the most expensive thing we'd ever do but we have managed to raise a baby on the cheap. To date, here are the typical baby expenses we've encountered:

Natural childbirth with no drugs: $1000 (This is what we paid, insurance covered the rest).

Pediatrician visits: $100 (5 well baby visits at $20 a pop).

Milk: Free! (I make my own milkies and Beatrice thinks they're delicious).

Diapers: $200 (We use cloth so this amount includes the initial cost of diapers and detergent. Best parenting/budgeting decision evah).

Food: A bazillion dollars (Our child is a little piggy. She eats like a teenage boy).

Clothes: $200 (I have not had to buy her anything but having a girl makes not shopping for mary janes and smocked dresses impossible).

Wipes: $50 (There are cloth wipes out there but I'm not that green).

Toys: $250 (See above birthday shopping extravaganza). 

In a year, we've spent approximately $1800. When the average estimated cost of raising a child is $250,000 for 18 years, we feel pretty good about the measly 2 grand we've spent this year. I know it is only going to get more expensive as she gets older, but at this rate we can afford at least 3 more babies right away. Honey? Honey, are you there? Okay maybe not right away, but we can afford to buy a boat load of toys and books and clothes for our girl's first birthday in 3 short days. And maybe think about another baby soon......

Beatrice says, "I'm not ready to be a big girl."

T is For Toddler

When I started this blog, I promised myself I wouldn't write a bunch of sappy stuff about being a mother and Beatrice turning into a one year old baby. We don't use the T-word around here. Nope, no toddlers here. Just tiny, little babies that don't become toddlers for many, many years. But as her birthday approaches (4 days!!!), I don't think I can keep my promise. She's just so wonderful and this first year has changed so much for me that I just have to write about it. So here it goes.

She fell asleep in the car today on our way home. I was prepared to sit and wait it out while she slept, but she woke after about 20 minutes. Knowing my child's crappy sleep habits like only a mother could, I knew that the chances of her going back to sleep on her own were slim. So I took her in and rocked her. I haven't rocked her to sleep in months so this was a big deal. As she nursed and fell asleep, I sat there and soaked in that sweet little moment. Pretty soon, she won't need me to put her back to sleep or to nurse her. She will not want to rock anymore. She will be big. But while she's still little, I want to soak in every detail and remember what my little baby is like.

As I watched her settle into a rhythm of heavy breathing and swallowing milkies, I wondered if I would remember this moment when she's a bigger girl. Would I remember the way she played with my shirt while nursing when she's a 5 year old going off to kindergarten? Would I remember the way her once tiny body fit perfectly in my arms when she's a teenager? Would I remember how content she was snuggled on her mama as a baby when it's her wedding day? Would I remember how I felt so needed and loved and special being her mom today? I hope so.

Her looming birthday doesn't make me sad. I actually love having a big girl baby more than I loved having a newborn. I love that even though she can't say many words, she still understands everything we say to her. "Beatrice, are you ready to eat?" She crawls to her high chair and waits to be served. "Beatrice, do you need a diaper change?" Up the stairs to her room she goes. She's such a little person now. A little person that I have a hard time saying no to...those eyes, those cheekies. They turn me into mush every time. And the thing I love the most? Although she is growing independent and loves to learn how to do things on her own, she still wants to cuddle and lay her little head down on our shoulders to give us love. She is the perfect mix of baby and T-word.

I can't say that I've enjoyed every moment of her babyhood. The sleeplessness of the first month was not fun and the initial fear of not knowing how to be a mother sucked pretty bad. But now that it's almost over, I'm just trying to savor the last tender moments of having a baby while I can. Because in 4 short days, my little baby will be big(ger) and I'll be a mother of a T-word.

"Beatrice, how big are you?" Sooooooo big!                  

Help a mama out and click to vote for the blog!

Dada Is Sick

I never thought I'd ever say this, but I can't wait for JD to go back to work. He's been sick all weekend with a cold and since we share a bed, we've both been up all night for three nights now while he hacks up lungs, sneezes and gets up to blow his nose at all hours of the night. He never sneezes or coughs during the day, I think he saves them up for nighttime. Lucky me. And since the only nights we get to sleep in the same bed together are on his off days, I don't feel right about banishing him to the couch so I can actually sleep. But my goodness, I'm so tired.

I've been averaging about five hours of sleep the last couple of nights and it is not working out for me. I spent all day in my pajamas trying to convince Beatrice to snuggle with me on the couch instead of climbing the stairs and well, doing anything but snuggle with me on the couch. No such luck. She was wild all day.

Sock on the head is a fun game around here. And this was our umpteenth try at coaxing her into taking a family nap. 

She'd rather play all over our bed instead. Figures. 

I took two naps today and even though I have not showered and am still in my pajamas, I feel a little better. JD is still under the weather and will be home one more night with us. He has promised to sleep on the couch so I can sleep tonight but I'm begging him to come to bed with me and just not cough, sneeze, move or breathe at all. Sounds reasonable to me.

Fall

Fall is not my favorite season. I think it's because where I live, fall never fully happens. I live in the South and the South has a bad case of seasonal multiple personality disorder. We are north enough to get snow but south enough to have terrible humidity. Our summers last forever and just when we've had enough of the scorching heat, fall shows up long enough for the sweaters to come out and the fire wood to get stocked. Then it gets hot again. This schizophrenic climate cycle will continue for a couple of months. No one knows how to dress their children for school because it is 40 degrees in the morning and 80 by noon. Layers are our friend. By October, us Southerners are ready for cold weather to catch up to the fall-like activity and changing leaves we've had. Throughout the entire season, we are lucky to get a few cool days. Mostly it's just hot. And then winter hits. Fall needs to get on some meds.

I never get to experience a true fall. But that doesn't stop us from going with the motions and doing fallish things. We have decorated our front porch with fall foliage. We don't have to worry about the mums getting frost bitten when the temperature never drops below 50. 

Hello, Crow Scarer. Beatrice has to touch its nose and eyes every day. 

Today we went to a big farm that has a petting zoo, pumpkin patch and hay rides. It was super fun and screamed fall fun, despite being 81 degrees.

We were hot, covered in hay and the stench of manure filled our nostrils. But our girl loved it. Especially the pumpkins.

JD is still recovering from a cold and the heat made us want to stay in today, but this is fall. Our state may have missed the memo, but that's not going to stop us from participating in the fall festivities. I also can't be stopped from participating in fall fashion. I will wear my boots in October and a little 80 degree weather isn't going to stop me. 

Happy fall everyone! Here's to hoping you're enjoying yours no matter what the weather is like.

Steppin' Out Saturday (A Day Late, Again)

On our way to a petting zoo and pumpkin patch! Link up with us at Harper's Happenings. 

Me:

Shirt, J. Crew

Jeans, Joe's Jeans

Boots, Frye

Beatrice:

Shirt, Baby Gap

Skirted leggings, Baby Gap

Shoes, Add A Bow (Ebay)

Moms Are Like Glue

At the risk of sounding cliche, becoming a parent has changed everything in my life. And while it is all mostly for the better, the one thing I don't think I will ever get used to is not having sick days or time off. When you're a mother, you have to go and do and conquer. Despite how awful you feel, diapers still need to be changed, babies still need to be rocked and husbands (and babies) still need to eat. Mom has to pull it together, even when she feels like she is falling apart.

I feel like I am falling apart. I have had less than 5 hours of sleep for the past 3 nights and I am worn down. When I get this tired, my patience runs out and my housekeeping takes a back seat to everything. JD would have a fit if he came downstairs and saw the place. Before I had a child, I would just catch up on sleep during the day or take it easy until I felt rested. That is not an option now and I'm beginning to accept that it may never be. With JD working the night shift and sleeping during the day, I have to get up regardless of how little sleep I got the night before and press on. Beatrice slows down for no one.

It's not just being tired that is taking its toll on me, I have so much to do. Beatrice's party is a week from today and I have several projects started that need finishing. I have to finish the blanket that I am making her and pick out a cake. I have to finalize the menu and clean this house. I have to grocery shop and fold laundry. And because I'm so tired, I don't feel like doing any of it. My dining room table has looked like this for 3 days now:

That's what 3 weeks of coupons look like. Don't get that behind, trust me. It is no fun.

JD has a cold and he is up in the bed feeling like crap. I don't mind that he gets to settle in until he feels better, but sometimes I wish I could take a day off to stay in bed and feel better. But I'm the mom. I've got to keep it together so we all don't fall apart.

You could make it all better by voting for the blog ;)

Jeggings Are Proof That God Loves Me

When I was pregnant, I refused to buy maternity pants. The huge, elastic belly panel thing was so gross and matronly to my usual low waisted designer jean wearing self, I just couldn't bring myself to buy something so uncool. Plus I have a 34" inseam and could not find maternity pants that were long or cheap enough. I found some glorious designer maternity jeans with no belly panel but JD said it was either be a stay at home mom or have nice clothes. The bigger I got and the less options I had, I finally broke down and did the unthinkable: I bought leggings at Forever 21. 

Why unthinkable? Well, for starters, I was a hoss. I ate cake like nobody's business and gained a bunch of weight. Tight leggings on a growing rear is never a good look. And I wore the heck out of them. I'm talking every day. My co-workers started making fun of how many outfits I could come up with that included leggings. Enough to cover about 20 weeks of the last 2 trimesters apparently. They were comfortable, cheap and with the right top, somewhat stylish. I loved them.

By the time Beatrice was born, I was so over them. After wearing leggings for about 140 consecutive days, I never wanted to see another pair again in my life. I wanted my jeans back. With each postpartum week that passed and every pound dropped, I tried to squeeze into my old friends. But they were no longer my friends. They taunted and teased me with their worn denim and fancy pocket stitching that no longer fit over my still very large rear. The thing with jeans is that they are not very kind to you when you gain weight. Usually, the first sign that you've gained is revealed in your jeans. Those buggers will not let you and a couple of extra pounds off the hook. You and your weight are accountable to them (if you ever want to fit in them again). I realized that I was either destined to a life in leggings or I would have to invest in new jeans. Working harder to lose the weight never occurred to me.....I did end up finding a pair of reject jeans in the back of my closet. They had tons of lycra and I managed to stretch them over my enormous self. It wasn't the same though. I kind of hated those jeans and knowing that they were my only option made me resent denim altogether. 

And then one day around Christmas, one of the Jennies had on a pair of the tightest jeans I had ever seen. They were soft and stretchy. They were jeggings, or jean leggings. Oh. Emm. Gee. Jean leggings? Jean leggings!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! This was my answer to postpartum size in betweenness. I had to get some. So I did. 3 pairs actually. Because when you find a good thing, buy multiples. They were awesome and the answer to my problem. And prayers. Yes, I prayed to fit back into my jeans... They fit like leggings, but looked like jeans (with pockets and stitching and a fake fly). They fit perfectly inside my boots and with the right tops, I almost looked hot again. But the best part, they made me feel like me again. They were the next best thing to my glorious jean collection. 

After a few months, I lost all of my pregnancy weight and could once again wear my jeans. It has been like wearing a brand new wardrobe that has been perfectly broken in. But I have been rocking the jeggings here and there too. They are too comfortable to wear and perfect for the crawling around on the floor I do with Beatrice. But the best thing about jeggings? 

They make them for babies now too. 

Beatrice likes to rock hers with a tunic and messy pony. 

I was totally that mom that hated to dress her baby in grown up clothes so she has always worn smocked things, onesies and typical baby stuff. Since she will be 1 in 10 days (sob), she can now wear big girl clothes. 

JD says they're scandalous because they are so tight. Duh, that's the point Daddy. 

They make learning to walk a breeze. 

Jeggings have gotten a bad rap lately. Some folks are doing it wrong. Long tops, people. No matter what, long tops. But don't let that deter you. Jeggings are awesome for any size and honestly, they may be the perfect piece of clothing ever created. Except for adult footed pajamas. And Snuggies. 

Togetherness

We are a big togetherness kind of family. JD and I really like being together. We don't have to actually be doing anything, just hanging out together is enough. This has become a rarity now that he is on the midnight shift. He sleeps during most of the day and by the time he wakes, it's late afternoon. And while we're still together during this time, I am preoccupied with dinner, baths and bedtime for our little one. Weekends practically don't exist anymore. His off days are Sundays and Mondays but he still tries to maintain his schedule by sleeping as late as he can. Every day kinda feels the same around here and we don't get enough togetherness.

Except for today.

Today has been glorious. JD was supposed to have a court case to attend this morning but it was cancelled at the last minute. After he showered, dressed up like a stud (rawr) and got hyped up on Starbucks. So he came home and spent the day with us. We did absolutely nothing. We stayed in our pajamas until 2,  made omelets and coffee and watched 4 hours of The Sopranos. Beatrice napped for awhile and then we all played together. We took turns reading and building block towers and playing Angry Birds on my Droid. Best game evah! To some, it was a total waste of day. But to us, it was just what we needed. I could stay in my pajamas forever with JD. If it's just me at home, I hate it and have to get dressed early. He brings out the couch potato in me. 

Today actually felt like a weekend day to me. Our days look pretty much the same and while I love staying home, I never get that excited feeling that I used to get on Saturday mornings when I worked thinking that I had the whole day to do whatever I wanted. Having a day of nothingness and lounging with my family made me feel great, like I had a little weekend break on a Tuesday.

Everyone is napping so I finally took a shower. Beatrice and I have to run some errands later and while this morning was great, we cannot do nothing forever. JD returns to work tonight and tomorrow we'll be back to our regular routine. It was great while it lasted. Everyone needs a big ol' day of togetherness every now and then. Even if that means doing absolutely nothing.

Pretty Please With A Cherry On Top

A few weeks ago, I was apart of an online discussion about why bloggers blog. The general consensus was that bloggers like attention, therefore they shamelessly divulge every detail of their lives for their readers to get wrapped up in. The other theory was that bloggers are narcissistic. They think the happenings of their lives are less mundane than the rest of us so they write about it hoping the readers pick up on their superiority and awesomeness. And some bloggers just like to write.

I have a different theory. 

Blogging is not just about what happens on this site. Blogging is a community of real people connecting over the things in life that touch us, speak to us, encourage us and entertain us, all made possible by the awesomeness of the internet. For me, blogging has been about making real connections with real people who happen to have spectacular blogs. And who happen to think mine is pretty cool too. I get excited and inspired when I see a new post in my Google Reader from someone I "know" online. I think anyone who has followed a blog and gotten to "know" the blogger can relate. There is something profound about revealing bits of yourself to people who may never meet you in real life and in return, they care about you and what happens in your life. It's like they are along for the journey, even if it is a vicarious jaunt. 

I blog because I love making the connections and because sometimes I have something to say. And I like the way words make their way out of my head and onto the screen. That being said, I have a favor to ask. In the six months I've been blogging, I have never asked anything of you.....until now. 

The blog is listed on Top Baby Blogs and every time someone clicks the blinky square to the right (and below), my blog goes higher on the list. I don't win anything but more exposure and a higher place on the list of amazing blogs. And I have been holding steady at 90ish followers for months now and breaking 100 is a personal goal of mine so if you're a regular reader but not following, do a sister a favor and follow! So if it's not too much to ask, click the blinky link thingy and vote for me. I'd be much obliged. Spread the love! And after you vote for me, check out the other talented writers, narcissists and attention hounds. Just don't vote for them. I kid, I kid. 

Steppin' Out Saturday (A Day Late)

Mandy over at Harper's Happenings has started a fun new blog linkup called Steppin' Out Saturday (or whatever day your outfit is cute enough to share with the interwebz). I totally wanna play. So here we are yesterday at my family reunion at my 2nd cousin's dairy farm. If you wanna play, link up with us at The Haps.

Me:
Sweater: Old Navy
Shirt: Old Navy
Jeggings: Hue
Boots: Steve Madden

Beatrice:
Top: Baby Luigi
Leggings: Baby Luigi
Shoes: Keds

Fake Calf:
Chipped Paint: Original

This Is Going To Be Awkward

I had a good cry today. I cried with just the right amount of ferocity and then I felt better. And because I feel better, I hesitate to write this post because things are about to get awkward for everyone.

Eleven years ago today, my dad died in a plane crash. It was a single engine plane and he was the pilot. I was seventeen. I thought about the anniversary of his death all week and tried to decide how I would feel today. Eleven years is a long time to come to terms with death and I can positively say that I have dealt with my grief. But still, I cried. I didn't cry for my dad today though, I cried for me.

When my dad died, I felt like I forever got stuck at seventeen (emotionally). I was still a kid and needed my parents. After he was gone, my family sort of imploded and I felt as though I suddenly had no parents. No one to guide me, no one to care about my grades, no one to answer to when I missed curfew. I was hurdled into adulthood before I was ready and I handled it very, very poorly.

I blamed God for many years. He knew what my dad meant to me and how prolific of a person he was, yet He still took him. I didn't know how to deal with this. I spent a lot of years trying to get back at God by dating the scum of the earth, drunk dialing my family to talk about Dad and shutting myself off to every relationship in my life. I became an emotional cripple. And for many years, I stayed there. Not the scum of the earth and drunk dialing part, just the emotional cripple part.  

Today I cried because I have wasted a lot of years being distant to people that want to love me. I cried because I have not moved past a seventeen year old's emotional state of mind that day in October when I suddenly had to face the world without my protector, without my spiritual leader, without my big, strong dad. I cried because I made so many bad decisions because I didn't trust God to carry me through the grief (that I did overcome, praise Him). I cried because of the brokenness my family has experienced because none of us knew how to talk about it for the longest time and because of the reckless decisions I made to smother the pain. I cried thinking about how different my life would be if he were still here and I hadn't had to grow up before I was ready. And I cried a little because I miss him. And now I'm crying again....


Several years after Dad died, I remember driving down the road and hearing in my heart God say "I am the Father to the fatherless" (Psalm 68:5). That began my recovery from the intense grief and pain that mangled my heart. That promise best summed up what I had feared being for many years: fatherless, vulnerable, without spiritual guidance. But my Heavenly Father did not abandon me and leave me fatherless, he stepped up and placed an abundance of godly men in my life as fatherly figures. On my wedding day, I missed my dad terribly but I had two brothers give me away. Several pastors and their wives have taken me under their wing and mentored me. And JD. My strong, sensitive husband that tells Beatrice stories of Grandpa Leigh fishing in Heaven. He reminds me of my dad in so many ways that sometimes I look up at God and say, "really? This is my husband? Cool."


I no longer have grief about losing my dad. He was a man after God's heart and lived in a way that I do not doubt for a second he is in Heaven. I have sad moments every now and then because I wonder how cool it would be to know him as an adult and see him with my child, but I no longer have that pain in my heart because of grief. Today's tears were for years wasted on rebellion and pain, not on losing him.

I hesitate publishing this post because whenever someone loses someone, there is always that awkward pause of not knowing what to do. Do you say you're sorry for their loss? Do you give words of encouragement? Do you wish you never read this post because now you don't know what to do and I'm totally calling you out on it but because you read it, you feel obligated to say something? I hate making anyone feel awkward but know that I probably made you feel that way anyway, so I'm hesitant....

Well now that everyone feels awkward, I am just going to end this and say that God is good. He sustained my life and loves me immeasurably. And for that, no one should feel awkward.

Now, the awkward montage of photos...


Dad and me the summer before he died:

Dad being a great parent:

Dad fishing in Heaven:

I love you, Dad. See you again one day.

Parade Of Homes

I don't have a very grown up house. I have decorated like an adult to the best of my ability, but my love of bright colors and penchant for shopping for home decor at Anthropologie and Urban Outfitters has made my home look like a mix between traditional and shabby chic a la Monica and Rachel's awesome apartment on Friends. While multi colored quilts and owl salt and pepper shakers are great for a college dorm, they do not scream "a mature adult lives here." So I have painted our walls brown and bought paisley chairs. Very adult-like, no? We have some other items that seem to belong in grown up people's homes like buffets and gold leaf, but for the most part our house is a hodgepodge collection of grown up decor and colorful things that make me happy.

Except for Beatrice's room.

Her room is my favorite place in the house. It is pretty and light and girlie. And always clean. I have decorated it with unabashed zeal for the things that I love. I haven't had to pretend that I am trying too hard to be or like anything that is not my style. It is what I envisioned for her when I found out that she was a girl. Decorating it has been a labor of love and everything in it has been selected by the one person in the this family that loves whimsy and color more than anyone: me! I love it and wish that it was my room. Without further ado, Beatrice's room:

I just realized that her crib sheet does not match her bedding but because I am too lazy to change the sheet and take more pictures, I am hoping you won't notice. What's that? Telling you about the mismatched crib sheet makes you notice it even more? Well crap. 

This is the reading corner. I just lowered the books to the bottom shelf so that she can reach them easier. Now the books stay on the floor because she loves to read them ALL at once. Oh, and that big comfy chair reclines and rocks. It is awesome. 

This is the changing station. Those vintage Barbie prints were a DIY project and Beatrice loves to pull them off the wall during diaper changes so if they appear a little cockeyed, they probably are.

The crib sheet makes me cringe, but just ignore it. Can you see the chandelier decal on the wall above her crib? It is white and really hard to see in photos. Anyway, it is awesome and the perfect example of my design/decorating philosophy: it doesn't have fit in with the decor of the room per se, but if you love it, then it becomes perfect for the room. I got it at Blik.

That's it. That's my little girl's room. Now if I only JD would let me decorate our room like this, I'd be a happy girl. Minus the tiny furniture, of course.