moving on…

So, I’ve been thinking for quite awhile now….even before I started writing here again…that I feel like I have outgrown this particular blog.

I don’t really understand that, because I mean, it’s a blog.

But, I guess the best way to describe it is that my voice has changed. My experiences over the past few years have changed me.

I am realizing that this blog does not have that new voice that is inside of me. I am instead trying to fit the new me into the old voice and it isn’t working.

I feel the need to start fresh.

So, that is what I am going to do.
I haven’t completely figured it all out, yet, but if you want to know where I am writing once I do, just let me know in a comment or send me an email or something. Whatever works.

No hard feelings if you don’t want to know or care to know or anything like that. I mean I’m not that interesting. 

Okay, announcements are through. 

Carry on.

fallen down the croc hole

Okay, y’all. We need to have a conversation about crocs.

Not croc…odiles


Those ridiculous, come in every color of the rainbow, add charms and bedazzle them until they’re more gaudy than before, how’s that’s even possible I don’t even know, Crocs.
Since forever I have been vehemently against the croc movement.

Let me play the Never Have I Ever game and ask me about Crocs and my sign would absolutely say N E V E R.

Now that we are clear on that, let us completely change direction and talk about our kitchen. 

More specifically, our floor.

Well, if I’m being thorough it’s more like our kitchen and laundry room and hallway and half bath and the area beyond the kitchen that’s supposed to be a living area but has been overrun by dog beds and dog toys and Kellan’s “work station” (aka the place to pile ALL THE THINGS so no actual work ever even happens there so we may as well just call it an “open closet with no doors”).

These floors are where we spend probably…ehhhhh….75-80% of our day. So lots of walking and standing and general being on your feet-ness happens on these floors.

We bought this house as “new to us but not new at all” and so the previous owners had redone the kitchen and in doing so, decided to redo the floor. Granted, this house has been around the block puhlenty of times and has had maaaaaany of owners and I am hella glad they took it upon themselves to put in new flooring.

But this floor you guys.

Not only did they decide to buy IMPORTED ITALIAN TILE (that was ZOMG expensive when we had to buy like 10 tiles when we redid the half bathroom because they apparently thought the dark red monkey and pineapple tree wallpaper, among other poor design choices like a vanity that was so big you could barely close the door, was worth saving), but they also didn’t do anyone any favors in the comfort department because this floor is like walking and standing on the hardest, most unforgiving surface you can imagine. 

Without shoes. 

Because we don’t wear shoes in this house. 

My feet and calves would literally ache every night when I went to bed. A throbbing ache that wouldn’t let me sleep and basically screamed, “FLIMSY HOUSE SHOES AND SOCKS AREN’T CUTTING IT!” I would wake up in the morning and hobble down the stairs because my feet, more specifically my plantar fascia tendon, was so sore and so stiff that it just decided to start protesting the second I put my foot to the ground in hopes I’d listen and do something.

So, finally, after putting up with it and dealing with the pain for two years (I’m a glutton for punishment apparently), I decided to try and find some shoes that were easy to get on, comfortable, and would support my feet.

Naturally, I went to Zappos. They are my favorite way to buy shoes because A: I don’t have to go anywhere, which leads to B: It saves me actual hours of time because I have Sasquatch feet and finding shoes in my size is always a disappointing wild goose chase. Anyone with feet bigger than a size 8.5 don’t deserve to wear nice shoes. Apparently all of us size 11 and aboves should just head straight to the men’s section. Do not pass go. Do not look at anything that sparkles because it will not be in your size.

Anyway. Zappos. 

I start my search for indoor shoes and house shoes and supportive shoes. I add some options to my cart to compare. 

I keep searching.

I have decided that I need to do this right if I’m going to wait two years to do it at all.

And what does the search pop up?


What are you doing to me, Zappos????


Did we not already have this conversation about acceptable shoes? I’m so happy you have lots of size 11 options but I think we’ve gone too far here. We are stepping out of bounds. 

Throw the flag. 

Blow the whistle.

We don’t do Crocs.

Then my feet reminded me in no uncertain terms that they were having a full on rebellion and if I ever wanted to walk again  – without pain – I better buck up.

Sooooooooo I hesitantly clicked on them. 

The Crocs.

And wouldn’t you knownit? These shoes had like….no wait….let me get the actual number….These shoes have one thousand three hundred and seventy six reviews and five stars. 

If one thousand three hundred and seventy six people are taking precious time out of their life to sing this many praises for these godforsaken shoes, I may as well read what they had to say.

And they said everything I hoped they wouldn’t. 

They said they were perfect house shoes. Perfect for plantar fascia issues. Perfect for hard floors. Perfect perfect perfect heart smiley emojis sunshine and rainbows.

In my brain…the rational part…the part that said NO WAY was like, well, I can always return them, right? I can say I gave it my all and it just didn’t work out and these people have no idea what they are talking about.

Heh. Crocs.

So…..I can’t even believe I’m admitting to this….so after much waffling, I bought myself a purple pair and Kellan a green and blue pair.

And then before they came we randomly left for LA for two weeks and I forgot about them (that’s acting life for ya).

When we got back home, I started wearing the crocs…because I had to do something for my feet or else (that’s what they said).

And low and behold! They were the most amazing shoes I had ever put on my feet! They looked ridiculous! I felt ridiculous! I loved them!

No more foot issues. No more screaming calves.

Hallelujah! I AM A BELIEVER!

I think I told Tim every day for at least a month straight how amazing my Crocs were. How they had solved all my problems and were so easy to clean! So fast to put on! So perfect for every situation!

Tim just rolled his eyes like suuuuuure. Whatever you say, sweetheart.

Then, one morning, Tim comes hobbling into the kitchen all, “oh…ouch…ohhhhhhh I was on my feet too long in here yesterday and I wasn’t wearing shoes.”

I saw my window and I jumped right through it.

You need to get a pair of Crocs.

Tim side eyes me all say whhhaaat? No way am I wearing Crocs.

And like the overly enthusiastic convert I was, I grabbed my phone and pulled them up on Zappos and tried to have him see the light that was CROCS.

BUT LOOK! So many color options! Special kinds for men! Here! Try mine on! You don’t understand! These shoes are ah-mazing!!! They will change your life! 

Tim finally….hesitantly….picked out a pair.

I ordered them faster than he could get the words out to tell me he changed his mind.

You won’t regret this! ::dazzle super smile DING star flashing off my teeth::

Once they came I was like an incessant grandma: DO NOT FORGET TO WEAR YOUR CROCS!

And Tim would be like OMG. FINE.

As the days went on, he slowly started to begrudgingly agree that the shoes really were useful, but he never outright said it. He wouldn’t wear them outside for yard stuff. And he’d only sometimes put them on if he was “going to be on his feet for awhile.”

Then, the night of the tornado happened. The night he was jolted awake by me running down the stairs yelling all kinds of words at him that were basically HONEY! TORNADO! SHELTER! NOW! TORNADO! NOW! SHELTER! NOW!

I ran into the kitchen. I put on my crocs. Kellan stumbled into the kitchen in his pajamas and what did I have him put on?


After Tim finally made his way into the shelter and we all got our bearings and took a breath, I look over at him and said, “Are you wearing any shoes??”

Because honestly we all hustled our asses out the door as fast as possible and I’m not even sure how I had the wherewithal to remember shoes for me or for Kellan and I sure as hell did not even think about Tim’s feet.

Tim looks at me with this YAH DON’T EVEN GO THERE look and says, “my Crocs.”

I had to stifle a laugh because priorities (read: tornado) but I know my face said enough. It said it all.

And Tim, seeing my look, shoots back a pleading, “but they were just so easy to put on!

::waggles my purple croc covered foot in the air toward Tim::

Don’t I know it.

If it was anyone, it would be Tom Hanks

If there was ever an actor I would hope to bump into while we were out in LA, it would be Tom Hanks.

And I’m not wanting this for me…even though I would probably lose my chill and be all TOM HANKS!!!

It would be for Kellan.

No, really. Swear.

Kellan doesn’t even know who Tom Hanks is…except for maybe him making the connection after Tom says hello (because of course he would. It’s TOM HANKS!) and yelling, “It’s Woody! From Toy Story!”

Begin me talking ninety miles a minute to try and quickly help Kellan remember that he had a monologue from Toy Story that he was supposed to perform last summer (“Why wouldn’t Andy want you? LOOK AT YOU! You’re a Buzz Lightyear!”…) at a competition he went to in LA, but then….then…a day or so before the competition, one of the acting coaches he was working with (Lisa Ann Walter…if any of you recognize the name) literally told him eye to eye, “You are so cute you can do any monologue you want. You don’t even have to say anything. Just stand on the stage and wave.”

So after that pep talk, Kellan was like, “I’m doing my Home Alone monologue and my spongebob commercial.”

I’ll have you know that those were the “backup” pieces instead of what was supposed to be front and center. The bread and butter. The Toy Story monologue. The Lego commercial.

(Of which he has probably forgotten both)

Fast forward to Kellan rocking both his backup monologue and commercial. I guess Lisa knew what she was talking about. Kellan ended up winning Best Commercial and Actor of the Year in his age group. 

Did I mention he was four? And his age group was 4-12?

Yah. Insane.

During the awards, they would flash headshots of the four finalists for each category and the finalists would go up on stage and they would read the runners up and then finally the winner. Each person got a medal draped over their neck. The winner getting one with a yellow ribbon and heavy medal stating they had won “Best….fill in the category.”

When Kellan saw his picture he was like, “THAT’S ME!!!” And he hopped off his chair and RAN up to the stage so fast I had to stop recording the moment on my phone and go chase after him.


Then he took his moment like he had been doing this all his life (He hasn’t. This was his first rodeo) and walked up and down the catwalk, waving to the crowd, like he owned it.

All this before they even announced the winner. They had to reel him back in to do all of the official business.

Cutest. moment. of. my. life. and everyone else’s in that room. Budding actors. Agents. Talent managers. Everyone was cheering him on.

You really shoulda been there.

So, where were we? Right! 


Kellan has a goal to be an actor.

Sidebar: We did not suggest this. He did. My plan was sports. Basketball. Soccer. Saturday’s at a gym or a field. Sweaty socks and uniforms. Apparently Kellan didn’t get that memo. Once he made his dreams known, however, we have – and are – doing all we can to help him achieve his goals.

HELLO! TOM HANKS! This is the part where you come in.

The acting life and path is mired with all kinds of challenges and difficulties and disappointments (of which we have already had plenty), and countless exercises in good decision making.

Now, I don’t know Tom Hanks from a hole in the wall, but for whatever reason, I think he would be one of the best people – if not the best person – to talk to Kellan. To teach him things about the acting life.

I know zero. I know loads about basketball. I could teach him a million things about that. Plenty of anecdotes.

However, with acting, I am learning right along with him every step of the way. So, if there was a wing in this area of life that I could fly Kellan under, I feel like it should be his. If there was ever a mentor I could choose…it would be him.

I have no idea why. 

It just seems right.

I have no rational really.

It sounds like a crazy person talking, I know. I’m not crazy. Or maybe I am. I mean really, who’s to judge here? 

(But Tom, if you’re reading this, I promise I’m not crazy)

I just want Kellan to hear it from someone who knows. Who has been there. I know he’s not perfect. 

Nobody is perfect.

But he seems perfect for Kellan.

I feel like they’d really get along. Maybe some things would sink in. Maybe some life lessons would be learned. Maybe some wisdom shared about this business Kellan has asked to be part of – on his own volition – since he was three.

Maybe… day.

Kellan keeps auditioning. We continue going to LA. He keeps trying. He keeps impressing the decision makers.

He just hasn’t been the right fit, yet.

He will be, one day. I know he will.

Maybe it’ll be alongside Tom and then all of these things will become a reality. 

You never know.

And then? 

I’d just casually run into him on set and be all TOM HANKS!!!!

news I did not want but had to have

It’s been news I have been waiting on…news I didn’t want but knew was coming.

And it came today.

A very dear friend of mine passed away from ALS. A friend I have known since I was three. She was part of the church group of friends I grew up with and spent so much time with and had so many memories with…even though we didn’t keep in touch on a daily basis as we got older, any time a big event occurred for one of us, we all would always rejoin and be there for each other and get along like no time had passed.

The last get together was about three years ago when we went back home and my mom threw a party for me because I was being inducted into my college sports hall of fame for basketball.

She was there…all of my friends from that group were there. It was right before she was diagnosed.

The years following she was there for me when we went through our trauma with baby bista. She sent a daily devotional book with my mom when she came to visit to give to me. She prayed for peace for our family and asked we do the same for hers.

I tried to do special things for her. Little things. I sent letters to her boys from the North Pole from Santa at Christmas. I sent them valentines from Loveland. I made her a photo album with old pictures of all kinds of memories and funny post it’s on each photo and mailed it to her. I would send her random texts, like a picture of the Rocky Mountains when we were visiting Colorado. Or a rainbow over our house one day. 

A few days ago I sent her sister a letter with lots of fun memories…and they read it to my friend…I knew I needed to send it. Something kept tugging at me to write it. So I did…and I am so glad I did. My mom told me they read it to her in the hospital and thought it was so special…they appreciated it so much. But ugh….to have to go through this. It’s so hard.

My friend was one of the first people I told about baby bista. Really I think my mom told her first, but I emailed her about it all and told her how I felt and all of those things. 

I felt so vulnerable. I felt empty. I had this constant pit in my stomach that resulted in me never feeling hungry. All I wanted was to be physically close to Tim and Kellan and didn’t want to be alone.

All of the same feelings I feel now.

I know these feelings. I hate them, but I know them. I know what they are and I know I actually have to allow myself to feel them even though they make me anxious and on edge all the time.

I don’t enjoy having to go through them….though I don’t really think anyone enjoys it.

It seems like we are just going through a rough patch. It happens, I know it does. Life isn’t always sunshine and rainbows, but I am ready for a string of rainbows. I am ready for it not to rain so much. I don’t want to feel anxious about everyday things just because I’m struggling to get through this grief process.

I am so thankful to have two littles who are so happy and funny and bring so much joy. They force me to live in the present and that is such an important thing for me to do. To focus on the here and now.

I remember when we were going through the baby bista stuff, I had a different friend who I would email all kinds of things…just to get it out…and she was amazing. She would email me back and ask questions and be supportive. I would look forward to her emails almost every night around 1am when I had to take second shift to feed baby bista. They were my lifeline. They helped me so much. Every single day was a struggle but she kept me grounded.

I needed something to anchor me, like I do now. I needed to get it out because I was beyond traumatized. I felt so hollow. I felt like my whole world came crashing down. 

It is so hard to go through these things and understand the “why” as it applies to your life.

I feel like the why in this instance is for me and Tim to change direction on the path we have been going down. Not communicating well. Not expressing when we feel hurt by the other. Not appreciating one another and not enjoying life together as we should. 

We already had a long talk about it over the weekend. We already made plans as to how to get better and work on our relationship.

And though all of this is good and positive, going through this moment is still very, very hard. 

I don’t like the pit in my stomach. I don’t like feeling so anxious and afraid.

(I do think some of this anxious feelings are being exacerbated by postpartum hormonal shifts…and I know I’m having them because my deodorant stopped working. I learned that fun telltale sign from postpartum with Kellan)

I know the things I need to do to help myself heal, like write and lean on Tim and allow myself to feel sad. 

But it just really sucks. There is no other way to slice it.

It sucks.

the close call

So, we had our first REALLY close call with a tornado the other night. And I’m still shaken up about it. Maybe I’ll feel better about it if I write…I don’t know. I have had my fair share of weather related drama. I’ve already wrote about it because that’s how I roll. 

I’ll wait for you to catch up.



So, about the other night.

I’m upstairs sleeping with our little 5 month old and Tim is downstairs with Kellan.

I had been trying to stay awake because we were under a moderate risk for bad weather – namely hail and wind they said.

So, I get tired around 9:30 and decide to turn the volume all the way up on my phone (I usually put it on airplane mode at night).

I go to sleep.

And then….you see, I have the emergency alerts on for my phone…and that emergency alert goes off blaring and jolts me awake not two hours later.

I grab my phone and look at the alert.

Tornado warning it says.

Seek shelter immediately it says.

(I am literally getting shaky even writing this because that is just how freaked out I was and my nerves are obviously still struggling to recover).

I grab our little who is peacefully asleep. I grab my phone. I run down the stairs yelling, “HONEY” the whole way to the master bedroom, fling open the door and Tim is like what?


Tim was like the alert didn’t go off?

I don’t even think I responded.

Sidebar: When we moved here, I insisted we have someone install an underground shelter in our garage. I didn’t care how much it cost. We were having a shelter because there was no basement.

I raced out of the room and into the kitchen to slip on shoes. 

I was not at all prepared for or expecting this, so the few things I think to grab are the ergo carrier and Kellan’s iPad. I turned off our alarm and went into the garage and opened the shelter. All of this while holding a baby.

Once the shelter was open, I raced back inside yelling for Kellan because he was nowhere to be seen. 

He finally (probably like 30 seconds) walks in the kitchen in his pajamas and I hand him his shoes and say, “Put on your crocs and let’s go NOW.”

We get out into the garage and over to the shelter and I’m like GET IN. And Kellan is like it’s dark!

And it is, I mean its basically a big metal hole in the ground. So I turn on my phone light so he can crawl down the steps and I follow. 

Finally, Tim comes out and I’m like, “Where are the dogs????”

(In his trying to wake up confusion thought I had already gotten them)

He goes back inside to get them out of their crate and then we have to manhandle them in because it’s hard for a dog to figure out how to go down the steep steps. Maddie, our golden retriever, figures it out and comes in.

Lexi on the other hand was like a cat trying to avoid water. Literally spread all four legs out and gripped the sides like NO WAY IN HELL I’M GOING DOWN THERE.

So Tim had to literally shove her in.

Then he climbs in and slides the door shut.

And the sirens are going off in our neighborhood. Our phones are going off with the warnings.

We watch the radar and follow twitter with what’s going on (I love using that because of the state weather hashtags – whatever state abbreviation plus “wx.” So like California is cawx or New York is nywx). 

And all of the meteorologists are like TAKE COVER NOW THIS IS BAD. Extremely dangerous. Get to a safe spot immediately.

 BI’m literally shaking sitting in the shelter. I text our neighbor to make sure they’re up and getting to a safe spot. Tim is texting work to make sure everyone is safe.

And we watch the radar.

And we see the storm.

And we see it form a hook echo. A debris ball. All of the things you absolutely do not want to see.

We watch it as it tracks directly toward us.

The alarms and sirens continue to go off. 

The thunder is so loud.

A few pieces of large hail are whipped against our garage door (leaving dents).

Tim wraps a chain around and through the latch that opens the door to the shelter.

We put on our bicycle helmets.

I put our little in the ergo and hold him close.

We let Kellan play a game on his iPad.

And we wait.

Tim tells the dogs to stop breathing hot air on him.

I tell Kellan to turn his iPad down.

And we wait.

I sat there feeling sick to my stomach. 

I know we were in an underground shelter, which is as safe as you can really be, save for not living in a tornado prone area, but I have zero desire to experience a tornado firsthand. No thank you.

It’s funny….when I was outside earlier that afternoon playing with Kellan, I thought it felt funny outside. It got so warm so fast and the air was just so thick with moisture. Too thick.

And so here we were. The atmosphere was angry and showing all the rage at 11:00 at night.

We continue to check radar and twitter.

It keeps edging closer.

I’m praying for it to miss us. To go south or north or anywhere else.

Then…they say that it has stopped rotating as much. It’s still there and still dangerous and may still drop at any point, but it’s not *as bad* as it was.

And then somehow, by the grace of God, it fizzles to the point it just spits out giant hail around a half mile from us.

We watch the storm go over us on radar. We wait for the all clear and then we get out and go check outside to make sure we don’t have hail damage.

Thankfully, we do not.

We all try to go back to sleep, but I couldn’t sleep. I was so shaken. I didn’t want to be alone. I didn’t want it to be dark. I didn’t want to hear any of the thunder I had to hear.

That was too close. 

We had bad weather forecast the following day, but somehow we only ended up with a few thunderstorms. It didn’t make me feel any less rattled, and I was awake again for half the night, watching the radar and praying we wouldn’t have to make another trip to the shelter.

We didn’t. 

But I think it’s going to take me some time to recover from this. I guess that seems silly but I was very frightened. I really, really dislike tornadoes. I’m a sensitive person as it is, so these kinds of things are hard for me to be like it’s okay and have my brain accept the words I say and calm down. Instead I just get worked up thinking about it, which is why I’m writing about it to help it come out so it’s not stuck inside rattling me.

UGH TO THIS AWFUL WEATHER!!!!!!!!!!! (There are not enough exclamation points for me to properly describe this sentiment)

And the emergency alert sound now literally ties my stomach in knots and make me start shaking. I discovered this when it went off the following day and I was just like here we go again.

But it was for a flood warning.

Breathe sigh of relief.

They really should differentiate those sounds….

Someone tell me a funny story that is not weather related.

my mom purpose

Ok so, I AM 34. And when I turned 34, Tim was all, “You’re the age I was when we met!”

Man. I never even thought of that.

But still. 34. 


Thirty. Four.

Can you tell I’m shocked?

I am not at all where I thought I’d be…but honestly I don’t even know where that was supposed to be, anyway. Partly because since having Kellan, I kind of stopped thinking about long term goals other than being the best mom I can be. Granted, that looks different for everyone, but that’s all I really thought about and strived for on a daily basis since then.

I mean, I do have things I would like to accomplish, but I haven’t put those things above being a mom.

Maybe that’s good. Maybe it’s not. But it is what it is. And I’m totally okay with that. I am 100% all in when it comes to helping Kellan achieve his goals and dreams…and man does he have big dreams. How an almost five year old can be so sure of what he wants to do is beyond me. I don’t remember having that much drive and determination at that age…but he has it and we are all doing what we can to help him get there. Make it. BE who he dreams to be.

That’s my purpose. And I love it.

Maybe that’s it for me, I don’t know. My whole purpose revolves around helping someone else succeed. It seems ridiculous but it’s honestly such a fulfilling and absolutely heart exploding feeling when something happens that shows the fruits of everyone’s labor.

But really the look on his face…how proud he is…that’s what I live for. It’s worth every hard day, every struggle, every tear. Every encouraging word and every hug when things don’t go exactly the way he hopes they will. None of those are easy …it may even be harder for me than it is for him…but it’s what makes success so much sweeter…those moments where tears are welling in my eyes when I get to watch him reap the reward that is finally earned…that took a lot of hard work and time and patience and everything in between.

I live for those moments. Past, present, future. Every single one of those moments. I will forever be his biggest fan, his loudest, most annoying cheerleader, his confidant any time he needs one. I’m always in his corner, ready to give a pep talk or a listening ear or a hug – whatever is needed at that particular time.

This part of mom-ing is fun. 

It’s amazing.

I love it.

I was not totally prepared for this part

Okay…so why did no one warn me about the part where Kellan grows up???????

 I mean yes, duh

But…okay see, when babies are babies, you are their entire universe. You are the one who can make them smile and laugh the most. You are the one they look to and turn to and cling to. You. And you hold that wonderful position as the love of their life, their everything, for a little while. 

Until….you don’t.

I’m not saying we are there yet, but I am seeing that we are transitioning. 

This morning, he didn’t want to tell me why a character on this lego friends show was his favorite (they are all girls and all friends  and that’s really all I know). After some gentle prodding, he finally tells me because he likes her skin color and shoe color and hair color and outfit.

So, you think she is pretty?



I told him that that was totally normal and okay. I told him he shouldn’t ever be embarrassed (because that’s how it came across) to tell me or daddy anything. 

I asked why he was hesitant to tell me and he said it was because I would say, “Why do you like her shoes or why do you like her hair and I don’t know why.”


So, yah. That all happened today. And it’s making me kind of look internally to see if somehow I am silently emoting that being vocal about liking how someone looks or liking their outfit or whatever is taboo. I am wondering if I should start openly complimenting people in front of Kellan to show him that it is okay to like and be open about someone’s shoes or thinking they have pretty eyes or whatever.

Is that what I’m supposed to do??  I am in new territory and struggling. I do not want him to feel embarrassed to talk about stuff and I also know that all the things I do not say speaks louder than the things I do say.

How are we already here?! 

I don’t feel like Tim will ever totally get it because he has never been the whole universe to Kellan the same way I have. He’s a boy. Kellan is a boy. They are boys. If we had a girl, I think it would hit home a little more for him because when she starting liking boys or talking about appearances I am sure he’d be like WHOAAAAA NOW. HOLD UP.

It’s actually hard for me right now, seeing him change like this. I’m glad he’s maturing and more responsible and, well, growing up, but it is hard to know and to see that soon I will be annoying to him. That I won’t be the whole world. I’ll be ugh, mooooom!

Maybe not always, but definitely at times.

Now that he can read, I barely get to read to him anymore….when we used to sit together and read books for hours. Now, if he’s reading to himself and I ask if he wants me to read to him, he just looks up and asks if he can keep reading like he is….to himself.

He’s purposefully matching his clothes…without Tim or me encouraging it. It’s just what he wants to do instead of wearing completely mismatched everything. He’s even starting to wear two of the same shoes. The only mismatched thing that has remained are his socks…and I will be so sad to see that go….

He is growing up so fast. Right before my eyes. It makes me teary to see it and to acknowledge it. Not in a bad way, more in a nostalgic, I see why people have lots of kids way. 

It’s hard….watching them grow up and needing you less and less. I mean, I’m being semi-dramatic here because he’s only five.

But he was just two.

And before that he was just born.

Soon he’ll be ten….and the years will just climb higher and higher.

On one hand, I cannot wait to see who he becomes and what his passions lead to. On the other….I’ll forever cherish and hold close to my heart all of the moments when I was his whole world. When he gave me the “love look” instead of the sass one.

I know there will still be times when I get those looks, but they will be rare…though when they happen, they will mean more than he will ever know.

this is where you ask those burning questions

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my past…it happened

clever girls

stealing is not nice