Happy Independence Day!

As you enjoy your parades,


and your barbeques,


and the fireworks,

Take a moment to be thankful that you live in America.  It's not perfect.  It definitely has a million issues.  But put those aside for today, and be thankful to live in a place where you have the freedom to watch your parades, and attend your barbeques, and revel in the joy of fire in the sky.

And if you happen to find the opportunity, thank a soldier for all he's sacrificed in the name of that freedom.

Happy Fourth!

Best.Husband.Ever

Why?

Because he bought me this for Mother's Day:

Within the first two hours after opening it, I took 109 pictures.  Miles was being rather uncooperative, or I'm sure it would have been much more.  So, expect a ton more pictures coming your way. :)

Like these:

So, Easter Was Sunday

And it was a marvelously perfect day.

We slept in.  A little.  As much as you can with a toddler.

We laughed as Miles jumped up and down with excitement over his Easter basket.

We had a relaxing morning of lazing around in our jammies.

We took a nice, long afternoon nap.

We colored Easter eggs.

We had dinner with friends who have become family.

Overall, a rather perfect day.

Tuuuuck.

So, yesterday, Miles and I went to Target to pick out a birthday present for Daddy from Miles.  Given Miles' complete hatred of most shopping excursions, I have to admit that I was expecting the worst.  I had no idea what I was in for.

We were without a cart.  For some reason, Miles has decided that the primary use of a shopping cart is to dive out of it.  Several times, I have managed to somehow catch my son mere seconds before he crashes into the floor.  Somehow, motherhood has turned me into some sort of disaster-sensing ninja with lightning-fast reflexes.  Highly useful, considering my child seems determined to bash his head on . . . well, any and every hard surface in sight.  In any case, I've found that, as long as we're not in a hurry to get anywhere particular, it's highly preferable to just allow Miles to walk.

There we were, meandering through the store, just the two of us: Miles darting off to look at the wall of TV's or display robot in the toy section, Mommy trying desperately to keep him from pulling all of the nicely-folded polos off of the racks.  Still, for the most part, it was a far calmer excursion than most.

Eventually, we had our items, and began making our way toward the checkout.  Halfway to the front of the store, Miles suddenly veered off into the women's clothing.  As soon as his feet touched carpet, though, he carefully laid down, then rolled over.  He flung a hand dramatically over his head, and said,

"I tuck."

For a moment, all I could do was stare at him with an open mouth, thinking,  "Wha. . .?!?!?"  Laughter bubbled up and out, before I could stop it.  After a few seconds, I managed to ask, "You're what?"

"I tuuuuck," he repeated, drawing it out for maximum theatrical effect.

"You're stuck?" I guessed.

"Ess. I tuuuuuuuuuuuck."

I leaned over, and tried to pick him up.  Toddlers have this neat trick where they turn into really heavy, but really limp spaghetti; he did that, all the while pointing down, shaking his head, saying, "Uh uh! Uh uh!"  I put him back down.  He carefully, but dramatically, threw himself back to the floor.

"I tuck."

Not knowing what else to do, I walked a few steps away, out of his eyesight, but where I could still see his shoes.  Sure enough, he caught up to me a few seconds later, chattering on as though nothing had happened.  Twenty steps later, he fell to the floor again, this time in the middle of the main aisle.

"I tuck."

It took half an hour to travel the fifty feet or so to the registers.  I couldn't help but laugh.

Feel the Love

So, it's Monday, which generally means a list of reasons why I'm a terrible mother.  But, not today.  Partly because I'm feeling like an awesome mommy today (for reasons unknown - I've done nothing spectacular lately), and partly because I was lazy and didn't start the list early enough for it to actually be funny.  But, mostly, because it's Valentine's Day.

So, go tell someone that you love them (even if it's only your mom.  She'd probably love to hear from you.), and nom on some conversation hearts, and watch sappy movies.  Because regardless of how you feel about this holiday, it's never a bad thing to celebrate the love we have in our lives.

To all of those I love - whether we are related by blood, or by choice - I love you, and I am honestly flattered and humbled to have each of you in my life.  I have been blessed by each of you, and you make each day just a little brighter.

May your day be filled with joy, with laughter, and with love.  In all of its marvelous forms.

Christmas Morning

Sitting here in the quiet, sipping my coffee, waiting.  The only light is the glow of the Christmas tree, and its reflections off the surfaces of the red, gold, and silver packages below it.  The scent of cinnamon rolls baking in the oven fills my nose, and I know that someday, when I am old and gray, the smell of cinnamon rolls will remind me of these Christmas mornings.

Soon, this room will be filled with squeals and giggles.  Wrapping paper will fly in every direction as Miles opens one gift, and then another.  There will be chaos, and joy, and laughter in our little home.  Stockings will be delved into.  Hugs, and kisses, and happiness will be exchanged along with the gifts.  Fingers and mouths will become sticky-sweet with cinnamon goodness.  Yes, soon, this room will be filled with the sights and sounds of Christmas.

But for now, it is peaceful, and quiet.  And filled with the excitement of the day.

May your day be filled with joy, laughter, and even some peace.  Merry Christmas.