is what Olivine calls this blanket that she totes everywhere. She sleeps with it, takes it in the car, in the bike cart (dangerous for sure- we have lost some loved toys via the bike cart), and calls for it when its not around. She hides in it, snuggles it, talks to it, and that might just be why it has the most perfect name. She summed it all up in baby talk a long time ago.This photo was taken Saturday when our lovely friends babysat for us while I worked for four hours and then went to a four hour staff meeting, making it just a little longer than Papa who had an eight hour class. His bike almost always beats my car.

So I should be the one end on the giving end. My sweet friend has a newborn, just moved into her first home, and somehow she found the time to send me a gift.But I have to stop here and say that work has been awful. I try not to use this space for that sort of comment. I took Thursday and Friday off. I went to my first ever session of cupping in search of some relief for my stress (it worked) but only after calling another good friend (I’m talking sister level) to come over and pray with me on Thursday morning. So much of me feels desperate.I went back to work today but without resolution to some of my most pressing problems. Underneath the surface is always those voices about “not being good enough” and “needing to do more” which feels even more dangerous as a teacher. Until I walked in the door this afternoon to find my package and sat down on the couchto read a card, find chocolate and a book, and feel the love overflowing from these hand-wrapped gifts.  All the way from Portland, right into my lap I know I am loved and thought of and missed and that means so much today.

I miss you Angela. Kiss your new baby Theo for me. Thank you for loving me.

everywhere I lookfrom the clay project Paul molded, painted, and loves
to the cup holding a blooming plant (from four pumpkin seeds)and the chai I am drinking every morning with milk.
My favorite might just be hearing Olivine saying the word “pumpkin” because she says it with such expression, like it’s always a surprise.

A Friday ritual. A single photo – no words – capturing a moment from the week. A simple, special, extraordinary moment. A moment I want to pause, savor and remember. 

Yesterday our amazingly talented friend Janet took some family photos.I can’t show too many because I have to decide what will make this year’s holiday cards.

But they sure are cutie piesand I feel grateful we have these type of photos to mark our time as a growing family.I can hardly believe it when I look back and realize Janet has been taking our family photos since I was pregnant with Henry. Thank you Janet. You are the best!

they find their papa’s glassesand role play.I order a drink that seems out of character: “Hello, Strawberry Basil Mojito!”she takes the longest nap (almost four hours).
we turn on the humidifier for good measure (we have not forgotten our hospital stays last year).the shadows from the sunshine dance on the curtain.
the boys stand next to each other and I pray that they always take care of each other.
I stare at these baby legs because they won’t be here forever.I need the sunshine in my eyes so that I feel alive.
 

A Friday ritual. A single photo – no words – capturing a moment from the week. A simple, special, extraordinary moment. A moment I want to pause, savor and remember.

with new words at every possible moment “leaf-is momma” and a small hiccup in our routineNothing serious except that this little vegetarian is on a mostly fresh fruit and veggie cleanse (doctor’s orders) for the next few days.

the homemade Halloween decor.the big red ball.
the kindergartner talking a mile a minute over the firefighter who came to their class to talk (his classmate’s dad) and gave everyone a hat as a souvenir.the bath face.the story time.the sharing.
the goofy side of this girl.
the ease at which our house can fall asleep.

with emotion for the first time in weeks at the sight of these:These mini sodas (that come in crazy holiday flavors) were one of the many treats my little ones associate with my grandfather. They see these and they think him. When Henry asked if we could get some, I said sure.

Later when I opened the fridge and saw them sitting there. My heart plummeted at the realization that he is gone.  It’s been five months and on so many levels I have gone through the stages of grief in a healthy way. Until yesterday, when I hear my kids laughing outside and my heart aches for the man we all miss so much.

We drink these and toast to you Jich, because we think of you all the time.