Sunday, July 9, 2017

9 months...

Annabeth, you have now spent more time outside of my stomach than you did inside of it. Everyone told me it would go by quickly, and looking back, I suppose it has. I was looking at a picture of you from Christmas the other day and I couldn't believe how small you were. I don't remember you being so tiny. I don't remember a lot of things from the first few months. I once heard someone say that God doesn't allow our minds to remember the actual pain of childbirth so that we'll do it more than once. I believe that's the case for newborns, too. If we really remembered how hard those first few months are, we'd probably never put ourselves through them again. None the less, it truly is amazing how the love for your child trumps all of the challenges they present.

This has been a big month for our family. We've moved into a new home, and I do believe that you win the award for smoothest transition. You seem to be pretty content wherever we take you, thank goodness, and you were a real trooper throughout the process. Scout, on the other hand, has struggled with the move. But you know, when you get on up there in age, change is hard and confusing.

Your personality grows more and more each month, and I swear you get cuter and cuter. Not only are you adorable, but your personality really adds to the mix. You aren't the least bit wary of strangers. You are quick to smile and laugh, and you've really expanded your vocabulary. You're full of a plethora of noises, and you finally said "mama!" It sounds more like "mom-mom," but that works for me. You're rolling all over the place, and although you aren't crawling, you have no trouble getting around. This has certainly made my job a little more exhausting, and I can't decide if I am actually ready for you to crawl or not. I used to think things would get easier as you aged. I'm starting to re-think that one. You've tasted a lot of new foods this month and enjoyed each one, and you even learned how to drink out of a straw. You're a smart girl, and you seem to pick up on things quickly. I'm trying to pace you and not let you learn too much too fast. After all, your just a baby. You've got plenty of time to grow up.

The more time I have as your mother, the more I realize what an incredibly weighty responsibility that is. As you and I were sitting at the table the other day having lunch, I cut up tiny pieces of watermelon for you to snack on. I reached across the table and handed one to you. You squeezed it and inspected it well before attempting to put it in your mouth. It was a little too slippery for you to work with, so I decided to feed it to you instead. You leaned forward, opened your little mouth, and I placed it on your tongue. Your eyes lit up and you gave me a big, scrunchy faced smile as you chewed the sweet fruit and swallowed. You leaned forward again, opened your little mouth, and I dropped another piece in. This game continued for a while, and I was taken back by the trust you've placed in. You never once questioned what I was giving you. You never asked what it was. You had no clue if what I was placing in your mouth was good or bad for you.You just kept leaning in and trusting me because, up to this point, I've given you no reason not to.

Trust is a big deal, you know. Growing up, your Grampy always said to me, "You have my full trust until you do something to break it." And that stuck with me. He never made me earn that trust. He just gave it to me and it was mine to uphold or mine to ruin. And although we girls tend to err on the side of trusting others more than we should sometimes, I thought about how much you trust me because that's all you know. I'm all you know. If I fed you fish food every day of your life, that would be all you know. Of course, I would never do that because it tastes terrible (I can imagine) and that wouldn't be good for you. But you trust me no matter what because you have no other comparison. I'm your only mom and what you know is what I teach you. What you believe is what I tell you. And I want you to know that although I am certainly not a perfect mother, I hope you'll always trust me.

But I know that there will come a time where you'll have questions. You'll face things, go through situations, and I might not be able to give you answers. I may not be able to fix your problems or make things better despite my best efforts. And this is why I hope you place your trust in the Lord. Because He knows Annabeth. He sees, He hears, He has all of the answers. And He is your helper. He will meet your needs. He will take care of you. He will guide you, protect you, hold you, and rejoice over you. And although sometimes it might be hard to see it with your human eyes, you can rest in the assurance of His truth. That when you place your trust in the Lord, He will not forsake you. He will not abandon you, forget about you, or let you down. He never fails. And so my prayer and my hope is that you always lean in and you trust Him. Because, precious baby, He will never give you a reason not to.

"The Lord is my strength and my shield; my heart trusts in Him, and He helps me. My heart leaps for joy, and with my song I praise Him." - Psalm 28:7

Saturday, July 8, 2017

it has nothing to do with luck...

I am really struggling with my blog these days. We have been working tirelessly on our house, and if and when we take a break, I have zero energy to do anything other than lay in bed and watch Nexflix. It's all or nothing around here. We'll see how long we can keep it that way.

Aaron and I met 5 years ago, in July, having no idea that either one of us was right around the corner. Not expecting to meet, much less fall in love and get married so quickly, the first few months of marriage was full of learning opportunities. I suppose if you date someone for a really long time, you might be able to cover extra ground that would help make for a smoother marriage transition. If, like us, you meet and marry within a year, then you've got a lot of learning to do in general. Conversation has never been an issue for Aaron nor myself, but it's quite impossible to talk through every thing before saying "I do." We tried, trust me, but there were many things we just had to find out after the fact because that's the beauty of two becoming one.

Our first few months were riddled with lots of intense discussions. If you've ever been a newlywed, then you know exactly what I'm talking about. We were discovering so many things about one another that we didn't know. Things we had never even thought to ask or bring up. Things like closing closet doors, whether dirty clothes belonged in the hamper or on the floor, why the dishes had to be placed a certain way in the dishwasher, and if it really mattered whether the cups faced up or down in the pantry. I mean who would ever think to say, "Honey, before we get married, I just need to know this one thing. When you put food in the microwave, do you put a paper towel over it or do you just pop in there and let it splatter all over the place?" No one asks those questions, and yet those are the very things we spend the majority of year one discovering and discussing. At least, that's how it went for us.

After an exhausting amount of discussions, we came to the conclusion that we were both tired of it. We were tired of talking, of being silent, being challenged, and being at odds. We were tired of things dragging out for days. Tired of feeling like we had to walk around on eggshells so we could avoid such situations. Because although marriage was never created to make us happy, at the end of the day, we just wanted to want to come home and enjoy one another's company. Was that too much to ask? No, it sure wasn't, and so we decided we would work our hardest to figure out a way to get there and to do it as quickly as we could.

I think a lot of us get married with the mindset that we've chosen "the right" person and so we're good to go. We survived dating and the stress of planning a wedding, so how hard could it be? Yet marriages fall apart every day. Marriages made up of two people who felt the exact same way as everyone else on their wedding day. Because it's easy to be married hypothetically. It's easy to say what you would and wouldn't do when you're not actually having to do it. It's easy to give the right answer, but as is usually the case, such things are easier said than done.

And so how do we succeed? How do we make sure our marriage doesn't fall apart at the seams 5, 10, or 25 years down the road? Well, the one thing that we've learned thus far is that if we want to make sure we're both in this "until death do us part," we've got to talk about it. That's right. Talk about it. Whatever it is. The good things, the difficult things, the frustrating, embarrassing, hurtful things. We have to talk about our struggles, our plans, our goals, and our victories. We talk about what we're thinking, what we're feeling, what we're needing, and what seems to be missing. We talk about where we're winning, where we're lacking, what needs to be changed, and what needs to be celebrated. If there's one person in this entire world, next to the Lord, that you should be able to talk to about anything, it's your spouse. And we've learned that when we talk, and when we listen, and when we show grace, don't get defensive, and actually make a change, we grow closer. Two become more of one. After all, we're a team, and we need to be operating off the same game plan. We need to know where one another stands, not just assume we know, but we need to really know. And so maybe that means we sit down, put our phones away, carve out some time, and be intentional. Because good marriages, successful marriages, don't just happen by chance or by luck. No, they happen by great effort, by always trying, and by never giving up.

"If it is possible, as far as it depends on you, live at peace with everyone." - Romans 12:18

Thursday, June 29, 2017


How is it the end of June? This month has flown by, and it hasn't been easy. We've spent the majority of our time packing and unpacking, trying to figure out where things go, and trying to remember where we put them. We've also been without the internet until yesterday, which was livable, but I'm glad to be connected again.

Last Thursday was a long, tiring day. We've prayed and asked the Lord to help us make it through this moving process gracefully, full of patience, to give us the energy to keep going, and He has been faithful to do exactly that. Aaron and my dad worked like pack mules getting our house into a moving container in the million degree weather, and when the day was finally over and the house was empty, I pulled out my cleaning supplies and began getting our home in pristine condition for its new family. After all, that house has been more than good to me over the last 7 years, and I wanted to make sure I left it in just as good of a condition as the day I moved into it.

Paint dried on the patched up holes as I pushed the vacuum around each room, and I thought back to the hot summer day that I had moved into my first home. I was coming upon my 23 birthday and was so proud to be an official homeowner. My family came over that weekend for a paint party, and we got that entire house painted in a day. That's right people, one day! It's amazing what you can accomplish with a group of hard working people and a few boxes of pizza. Anyway, I settled into bed that night completely exhausted but so content. I was thankful for this precious place that was quickly being transformed into a cozy home, and I began thinking about all of the memories that would be packed into those walls in the years to come.

If those walls could talk, well, they'd certainly have a lot to say. They'd tell you the story of a girl who moved into a home full of hopes and dreams. A girl who had big plans and good ideas that fell apart at the seams. They'd tell you about the nights that she sat alone in the darkness of her bedroom, the one with a mattress on the floor, an old dresser on an empty wall, and a make-shift night stand. and she cried her eyes out wondering how God would ever fix the mess she was in. They'd tell you about how she wandered around that empty home, her dog in tow, praying out loud and asking God to fill the space with his presence so she wouldn't feel so alone. How she knelt on the floor, her tears soaking the carpet, as she muttered the same prayers night after night. Those walls would tell you about the beauty of how she began healing. How laughter returned to her home as it was filled with new friends, new faces, and new memories she never expected.

Those walls would tell of the night she sat in the backyard under the stars hearing the words "I love you," and how she began to learn what love really was and looked like. About the joy that filled her home as she laid in bed that Christmas Eve with an engagement ring hugging her finger. It would laugh as it told you how she and her husband came home from their honeymoon to a room full of wedding gifts and ripped through those packages like children on Christmas morning, It would tell you about how their relationship grew and changed, how it was challenged and strengthened, and how precious the moment was as they sat on the edge of the bathtub a few years later, hand in hand, thanking God for the gift of a positive pregnancy test.

The walls would tell you of the sweet sounds of the new baby girl they brought home. Of the conversations they had about whether to stay or whether to go. Because this home had been a refuge. A place of rest and of comfort no matter what season came. It was a place they both looked forward to coming to at the end of a long day. There, they could be themselves, feel secure, accepted, loved, and safe. It was more than four walls and a place to rest their heads. It was their home, just not their forever home.

I spent my last few minutes there praying. Praying that this new family would be just as blessed by those walls as I had been. That they would feel the same about their home. That it would be filled with a lot of love and many great memories. I prayed that they would feel the love of God in those walls. A love that can't be contained, but a love that is ever present. And I thanked the Lord for the years He gave me there. For the blessing and the privilege of the season on 109th Street. A little house that became a home I'll never forget.

Monday, June 19, 2017


You all know my story with breastfeeding. About how much I hoped I could and about how little success I had. Before Annabeth left the hospital, our pediatrician told us about a formula that is similar to breastmilk. I've not tasted either one in the last 29 years, so I can't tell you how true that is. Supposedly it acts the same on baby's tummy. We decided we'd go with that just to supplement as needed, not knowing, at the time, that it would quickly become Annabeth's sole source of sustenance.

We got home from the hospital and purchased the pre-made formula bottles at the store. She was only drinking a third of each bottle at each feeding since we were trying to imitate our schedule at the hospital, and the bottle said that once it was opened it had to be consumed within an hour. So, in our ignorance, we were throwing away bottles of formula that were two-thirds full. I could kick myself now for doing that. Thankfully, we mentioned it to the doctor at one of our appointments and she kindly told us that we could refrigerate the bottles so they'd last longer. She gave us a few more samples to make up for our losses, and after realizing how much it was costing us, I opted to buy powdered formula instead.

During one of Annabeth's late night feedings, I began looking for formula coupons. If you aren't familiar with the price of formula, I'll just tell you that it adds up quickly. We spend at least $100 a month on those precious boxes, and I'll be danged that any of it goes to waste. I discovered that the formula companies send out samples and coupons if you're on their mailing list. You better bet I signed up because as you know, a penny saved is a penny earned. I was dealing not only with guilt for not being able to breastfeed as planned, but I was also feeling guilty that I had quit my job, greatly impacting our budget, and now we were going to be shelling out a hefty sum of money for formula. I was just going to have to trust God's provision even more than I had originally expected.

I received my first coupons in the mail a couple of weeks later, and I tucked them into the diaper bag so that I wouldn't forget to use them. I made sure to take note of any stores having specials or sales on formula, and I had some sweet friends who shared their unused coupons with me when the time was needed. Almost 9 months in to using formula, and I have yet to purchase a box without a coupon. Somehow, someway, I've always had one handy when I needed it. And although it's just a few dollars here or there, I can guarantee I have easily saved a hundred or more by doing this.

Sunday morning I noticed that Annabeth's box was beginning to look low and we didn't have another one in the pantry. I made a mental note to add it to my grocery list for our routine trip to the store on Monday, and I told Aaron that this would be the first box of formula I'd be buying at full price. I thought about how faithful God has been to provide for us over the past many months as I have stopped working and we've added an extra expense to our budget. I thought about how He has met every single need and blessed us immensely. And I seriously thought about praying for a coupon but then I thought to myself that it would be a silly request to ask, even though scripture does tell us to pray about everything. I guess coupons do fall in the category of everything, but I felt funny asking something so insignificant and simple in the grand scheme of things, and so I let it go.

I backed out of the driveway this afternoon with my grocery list in hand. I pulled up to the mailbox, and as I pulled down the lid my eye was drawn to the bright blue Similac envelope. I almost cried and laughed and as I broke open the seal, I saw that there was one coupon for a box of formula. Not the set of three that they always send. No, just one. One coupon to meet my one need. He was giving me my daily bread, and as I drove to the store I thanked God the whole way for knowing my thoughts and being so generous to address them even when I lack faith to turn them into prayer.

Psalm 139 tells us that God made us. He knit us together, and because He did that, He knows us so well. Before a thought is formed in our heads, before a word leaves our tongue, He already knows it. This has been such an interesting season of my life, one of my favorites for sure, but I constantly feel like I am failing the Lord. Like I could do so much better. And I could. There are so many pressing issues going on in the world. So much hatred, darkness, death, destruction. There are people who are facing difficult times, people who are in dire need of help, people whose lives are in jeopardy, and if anyone is deserving of God's attention, it certainly isn't me. I need to be at the end of line. But you see, that's the thing about God. He's got all of us in mind, all the time. And He's addressing what each of us needs and providing it for us when we need it.

God never ceases to amaze me with His love. We don't deserve anything from God, at least I certainly don't. And yet, as undeserving as I am, He speaks to my heart in such exact and specific ways to remind of His goodness and His faithfulness. I mean who else could show their love through a perfectly timed coupon? But maybe it's not a coupon for you. Maybe it's a new friend just when you needed one. Maybe it's a job or a clean bill of health. Maybe it's a sunrise full of your favorite colors or a song that comes on the radio that lifts your heart. God shows His love for us in many, many ways each day. We just have to open our eyes to see it. To see that it's not just luck. It's not just coincidence, circumstance, or perfect timing. It's God. It's His love. And it will never run out.

"For great is His love towards us, and the faithfulness of the Lord endures forever. Praise the Lord," - Psalm 117:2

Saturday, June 10, 2017

stepping back rather than stepping in...

Well I'm two days late, Annabeth, but it has been a busy week. You attended your first VBS this week, and I volunteered at it. It was a fun week, but it was exhausting. We were both worn out by the time we got home, and thank goodness, we both squeezed in naps a few of those days. You turned 8 months old on Thursday, and I can hardly believe that we've just got 4 months left before your first birthday. It's coming fast, but I think I'm going to be okay with that.

Over the past month, you've added quite a few things to your growing list of accomplishments. You've said "dada" about a million times, and you've recently begun stringing together your babbles, It's too precious! You have tried a lot of new fruits and veggies, all of which you've gladly eaten. And you grew three more teeth. I was changing your diaper one morning and low and behold, your top two teeth were poking out of your gums. I think they sprouted overnight! You've yet to crawl, but you've begun scooting all over the place on your back. I suppose that could count as crawling, just backwards, I guess.

As I journey through this adventure of motherhood, and I am constantly asking the Lord to fill me with wisdom and help me. This is such an interesting process that can be quite overwhelming if you try to figure it out on your own. Thankfully, God has more than answered those prayers, but as I now have the perspective of a mom, my heart has also been challenged in ways it never has been before.

A little girl came to VBS this week as a visitor. From what I could tell, she didn't seem to know any of the other kids in the group and I'm pretty sure she hadn't been to our church before, at least not on a regular basis. Let me just tell you, it's hard being the "new girl." It's really hard to show up to a group of people, no matter how old you are, and be the odd one out. When everyone knows one another and no one knows you, it can be awkward. And if you just so happen to be a person who likes to keep to themselves, one who doesn't seek out attention or initiate conversation with others, it can be especially difficult to show up. I've been in that spot before, and although I've learned some tips and tricks on how to make it better, I still try to avoid such situations if I can.

Well, a few days into the week, this little girl asked her mom if she had to come back. She didn't feel comfortable or that the other kids liked her. When I heard this, my heart broke. I felt terrible that she was having a bad experience and believed that she wasn't liked. I hadn't noticed anyone being mean to her, and from what I knew, no one had said anything hurtful. But sometimes we don't have to actually do or say anything to lead people to one conclusion or another. Sometimes our silence, lack of attention, and distance says enough. And so we prayed that God would help her see and understand that she really is loved. That she would feel included, welcomed, and safe. And that she would want to be there so that truth could be planted in her heart. But as I thought about this precious child, I thought about her mother. About how her mother felt when she heard the confessions of her sweet baby. How her heart hurt must have hurt greatly for her child, too. And had it been me, Annabeth, and had that been you, I think my first reaction would have been to keep you home the rest of the week because the thought of dropping you off at a place full of people I don't know, a place that I don't frequent and haven't memorized like the back of my hand, a place that isn't familiar to either one of us, and a place that might challenge you, seems to be more than I can handle.

But she came back. She finished the week with us, and I was so thrilled to see her little face on Friday morning. I was so impressed that she had the courage to stick it out and that her mother had the courage to bring her each day. But more than that I was amazed at how God had answered our prayers for this child and drew her in. And I realize that as your mother, my desire to protect you should never exceed my ability to trust God. Because I'm afraid, sweet sister, that we may have situations like this in our future. I'm afraid that there might be circumstances and situations that you have to face that will just be hard. They will be learning opportunities and growth opportunities not just for you, but for me, too. Because if I can step in and make things better, you know that's my first inclination. But I know that rather than stepping in, I've got to step back. I've got to lift my eyes to the Lord and ask Him for help. Trust that He sees you, He knows you, He cares for you, and He's watching out for you. And that's a really hard thing to do, you know. But that's what God calls us to do. To have faith. To trust Him. And to believe that He will answer when we call on His name.

"As soon as I pray, you answer me. You encourage me by giving me strength." - Psalm 138:3

Monday, June 5, 2017

fixer upper...

I am way, way behind here. Three weeks since my last post, and I think that might be a record. I swear I look up and a week has passed. Time is moving quickly, and so are we.

We put our house on the market in April. I don't know why we chose to move at this particular time. We've been discussing the idea of moving since we got married four years ago, and there were plenty of seasons within that period that would have been more ideal. But now, being one job down and with a baby, we listed our house. And we prayed, "Lord, you know what's coming our way. If this move is not a wise decision, just don't let it happen and we won't force it." I've learned that forcing our wants never works out in our best interest and so I was fine either way. If God allowed our house to sell, we'd move. If He didn't, we'd stay. Four weeks later, an offer came in that we accepted and a few weeks from now, we'll have a new home.

About a week before our house hit the market, I saw this one. A few days before we went for our first viewing, it was taken off the market. Go figure! I was disappointed because this was the house I had hoped for. I loved the neighborhood and I really loved the potential. We kept waiting and looking and finding houses that were only okay. And because four weeks feels like four years when you're showing your own home, we decided we wouldn't get our hopes up and place an offer on another house until we had an offer on ours. We quit looking, kind of believing  a sale wasn't in our future because after a dozen showings without a single bite, things looked bleak. And so the night that we finally got an offer, we jumped back on the MLS website and discovered that "the house" had just come back on the market. Talk about perfect timing and answered prayers!

I keep telling everyone it's an old home. But that "old home" is only 8 years older than me. So really, it's a young home now that I come to think of it. It's also a fixer upper, which is exactly what we wanted. I'm sure you're thinking, "What are they thinking?" Because we have a baby and have never done this before. But everyone has to start somewhere. And is there ever a perfect time to move and fix up a house, anyway?

Are we in over our heads? I don't think so. Is it going to require time and work? Yes, a lot of both. But isn't that the case for all of life's worthwhile adventures? You see, I've come to learn that when we take things one step at a time, when we trust the Lord for guidance and seek His wisdom, and when we partner with others who will be faithful to help us and walk with us through the process, we can do it. It doesn't mean there won't be moments of frustration or doubt. It doesn't mean that everything will go smoothly and without a hitch. There will probably be surprises, twists, and turns we never expected. But we'll grow. We'll learn, we'll be refined, and we'll come out on the other side a different, and hopefully better, person for it. And when all is said and done, we'll look back and see God's goodness woven through every moment. We'll see how He helped us when we didn't even realize it. How he really did work everything out for our good. How He gave us grace and mercy exactly when we needed it. And we'll be amazed at how gracious our God continues to be even when we don't deserve it.

"The wise woman builds her house, but with her own hands the foolish one tears hers down." -  Proverbs 14:1

Wednesday, May 17, 2017

one thing at a time...

I never really knew what I wanted to be when I grew up. That's why I picked accounting as a major. Because I had no idea what else I wanted to do. Of course, with a world full of possibilities, why would anyone pick accounting that didn't actually want to do accounting? That's a good question. I have my answers, and if you've read any of my blogs about work, you know why.

Before I graduated college, I thought I might be this powerful business woman. That maybe I'd dress really fancy and do important things. I'd carry around a briefcase (nobody does that anymore), and wear pencil skirts with high heels. I quickly realized I wouldn't be that woman when I decided there was no possible way I'd ever be a work-a-holic. Why would anyone want to spend all of their time working when there are plenty of other things to do that are more fun? There was no way I was going to go up to the office on a Saturday when I could be shopping, going to a movie, or spending time with the people I love. Work is work. Life is short. And while part of me still wanted to be that pencil skirt, heel wearing woman, the majority of me did not want to give up what was required to become her.

When I stopped working to be a full time stay at home mom, my pride took a bit of a hit. When people ask you what you do for a living and you tell them you stay at home, they say, "Okay." That's it. Well, sometimes you get the sarcastic, "Well, that must be nice" comment. But no one says, "Wow! How selfless of you to give up your career to do that. You have such an awesome job! How exciting! And you are super important!" At least, no one has said that to me yet. Most people just assume that you sit around all day and watch Netflix while your child naps. That you have all the time in the world to get every thing done. That your life must be super relaxed, easy, and flexible. As if. Crawling in to bed way too late the other night, my husband said, "Man, I wish I could just stay home with you tomorrow and sleep all day." Yea, I wish I could sleep all day, too. Especially when my alarm clock starts babbling from her bed before the sun comes up.

I suppose if I consider staying at home a job, then I really am a work-a-holic. I don't get weekends or holidays, and my job never stops. But there has yet to be a day where I have wished to be back in the office. I don't even think about it anymore. I don't long for it like I thought I would. And although I know that God has designed me to do this, I struggle with guilt. I struggle with feeling like I'm not doing enough. Like I'm not contributing enough. I need to do more. I need to find some way to make a little money to help out. I need to sell something, finish that book, work from home, get more followers on my blog, develop a craft or skill, become a mom-trepreneur. I need to do more than "just being a mom."

But one thing at a time, right? That's what the Lord began impressing upon my heart as I processed this thought. One thing at a time, one day at time. Because this season is just a moment in time. This is not the rest of my life. There will be a day when I'll probably find myself back in an office reminiscing about the season I had at home. And sure, it will be nice to have co-workers who let me go to the bathroom by myself, don't cry when I walk out of the room, don't pull my hair, or spit up all over my clothes. But I'll think about how much I miss kissing those chubby cheeks, snuggling her close while she drinks her bottle, seeing that gummy smile every time I look her way, and being her hero just because I'm her mom.

And so to the one who is "just a mom," that's just fine. That's all you need to be right now if that's all God has called you to right now. You are vitally important and what you're doing is, too. You won't get a pay raise for it, and you won't be getting any trophies for your hard work. It certainly won't boost your resume, and it's a sacrifice that may very well set you back should you enter the work force again some day. But no one can be a better mother to your child than you. And this sweet little lifelong project you've undertaken will go out into the world to do great things one day because of the great investment you've made in his or her life right now. So take it one day at a time. The hard days, the lonely days, the long days, and the thrilling days. Because each one comes to and end, and with each passing day, your baby is less of a baby. This isn't your life forever. But it is you're life right now. And isn't it a sweet one?

"She watches over the affairs of her household and does not eat the bread of idleness." - Proverbs 31:27