hearts and pasta

  I used to be in the floral industry. That meant that Valentines was one of the most stressful weeks of my life. Since then I’ve refused to acknowledge the holiday’s existence. Though sometimes my husband does. This year however I have the sweetest little Valentine I can imagine and it made me all lovey dovey and sentimental and since N had it off as part of his paternity leave I suggested we go out for a meal for the first time []

three weeks a family of three

Our family age is now three weeks.  I have a sign up in the kitchen that reminds me of this.  It’s there to remind me that no matter how connected/intertwined/completely smitten with this wee child my heart is I still have to see it from HIS perspective.  He met us three weeks ago.  Twenty-one days.  Less time than I have most library books.  This is all still incredibly new for him. Having said that, this week Nat has relaxed more than I’ve []

remembering the wait

Waiting for a referral is a strange place. On one hand you want so much to see that child’s face. On the other hand a referral (almost always?) means that somewhere something unthinkable has happened.  A child doesn’t gain a new family without losing one.  The referral doesn’t make it happen of course, but the fact is it happened.  So you have to ask yourself – if God could make your adoption go perfectly than why didn’t He just make it so []

nat versus the octopus

{{Thanks Auntie L. for the awesome bath toys. Mommy uses them to amuse herself by putting them on my head and watching me shake them off… I kinda think it’s fun too.  And for the record, we often use them in the bathtub too.}}

confessions of a first time mother

I know first-time mothers are stereotypically a bit tightly wound.  Obsessed with child-proofing, book-reading, perfect-child-having. So matching a bib to an outfit would fall well within the acceptable amount of pickiness. But what about matching lunch to the outfit?

he held out his arms

Nat has never reached for me. You know, that little things babies do where they hold up their arms to you? He’s leaned into me, he’s happy when I get him, but he’s never ASKED. Today, I walked down the hallway and into the living room where he was sitting in front of the couch and he held up his arms. I melted. Actually I bolted across the room to pick him up and we had a grand time dancing and singing []