Today is Aunt Yandi’s birthday and Clare wanted to send her best wishes in the only way she knows how…singing. Oh wait and Joey too who she thinks is the funniest thing ever.
Happy Birthday to you, Yandi. You are such a light in the dark. You’re a bright spot in our lives. You’re a treasure and a gift. May this year be the best yet.
And a late Happy Birthday to my other February star – Joey! You’re one of my favorite things on the planet. I hope you do lots of tough and cool things this year.
Oh the part about the monkey isn’t true…it’s just funny.
I know this is very similar to this post but you can’t get enough of a good thing right?
We got our commercialization on this morning with some heart shaped donuts. I actually think it’s one of the most romantic things Andrew’s ever done for me. 🙂
I love having Andrew home.
Don't they look like frontiers people?
Clare is indifferent.
Enjoying ourselves…as you can see.
Right now I’m sitting on my couch cringing. One corner of my lip looks as though it is sewn to my eyebrow and my forehead is literally knitting a sweater.
I just found mouse poop all up in my crochet basket.
I’m paralyzed. What do I do?!
I can’t wash that yarn or soak it in lysol.
These mice are taking over my life!
We found a couple mouse poopies a couple months back and immediately put out traps.
Well we caught 3.
1 was alive and 2 not so much alive.
I can’t keep doing this.
Andrew tells me that mice happen and that even clean and neat and orderly people get them…but let me tell you …pooping on my yarn is one step too far.
That is personal.
You don’t just poop on a girl’s yarn! That’s not right.
I get your need to survive but that doesn’t mean I support your addiction to fine bedding. And why do you poop in your bedding?
I’m about to upchuck just thinking about the next place I’ll find their dodo.
I don’t feel so good.
I’m getting a cat.
3 years ago today I was sitting alone in an apartment watching old episodes of Felicity.
2 years ago today I was checking out the weather forecast for our wedding day.
Last year I was starting my first contractions with Clare.
This year I’m sitting on a couch being crowded by stuffed animals and baby dolls.
3 years ago I cried about being overworked and alone and unfulfilled.
2 years ago I cried about how I wished it wasn’t going to rain on our wedding day because it was going to ruin everything.
1 year ago I was crying because I was afraid of labor and motherhood and the changes that were rapidly approaching.
This year I’m not crying.
I’ve always been a weepy person. I’ve always been forthright with my feelings about everything. And most times I cry about it – joy, sorrow, anything.
I consider Clare’s birthday my second birthday. No. Not the day I became a Christian. Not the day I was baptized or the day I graduated college.
In 5 days I’m going to celebrate my first birthday. I celebrate the birth of my daughter and the birth of my new life.
Clare has simply…changed my life. She has freed me to live and live fully with joy and with gratefulness.
This year…I have no reason to cry. I am not alone. Everything else seems so small compared to her being in my life, to her being safe and healthy and happy.
I’m not going to get presents or blow out candles on a cake but 1 year ago I received the greatest gift I could have ever asked for – my daughter, who saved me.