that month's worth of pictures isn't going anywhere!

You ready? I'll break the 40 or so pics into a few days, and then... VIDEOS! But first, I am going to make myself a cup of coffee.

Molly, JR, and Lili came up for a visit (Tito stayed at home with a grammie), and we let our babies look at each other. It is such fun to experience motherhood at the same time as people that I love... I got started so early, and then I was afraid I would be too late to the game, and look at that! God's timing is perfect.

My little violet.

One of my very dearest friends got married! And in a wondrous turn of events, I knew her husband from back when I did a five-week turn in Los Alamos, NM! The world is so small, except that it is NOT, but God is sovereign and makes a mockery of coincidence. Here, V gives T her blessing by way of a mildly concerned look, as in, "You sure about this guy?"

V may have a point...

I love these two. They are delightful. Rob took a bunch more "normal" pics, but I don't have those yet, and they aren't nearly as fun. Funny? Whatever.

This just after Vesper spit up down my dress. At least it was mine, not T's!

Gosh, I like you. You're nice. Am I laying it on too thick?

And on that note...

monthly rabbit tossing

I just offloaded over a month of photos and video from my camera. Then I edited the photos. Now I'm going to bed, but not before leaving you with evidence of months 10 and 11. Vesper will be one year in about three weeks, and it's blowing my mind. Her face seems to change daily. She's finally started crawling and does it best when unhindered by pesky clothing. Her skill at navigating the hardwood floor in her walker is impressive, and if she's in it, she's either hovering around your ankles or chasing Blake. It's very inconvenient for her when he's at the table, doing homework. She rolls right up to his leg and waits there, chattering at him, like a puppy that wants to play. He'll push her away (both in play and to rearrange his chair), and she just scoots right on back, gazing up at him, waiting for him to zing her around the room, play hide-and-seek, or race her with another wheeled toy.

He has adapted his request for another sister to include a brother as well. "It's only fair," he reasons, with no earthly clue why I'm nonplussed by the idea. She's plateaued with two teeth, little interest in most food that would require effort (purees only, please), and is quickly weaning herself (but doesn't want any substitute that's not diluted apple juice). You'll see from her chubby cheeks, though, that she doesn't seem to be missing anything yet!

Blake is behind me, helping engage/distract her for the ten-month session.

"THESE ARE MY MUSCLES!"

Then Blake wanted a turn and quickly got a picture of the wild-eyed lady trying to elicit smiles from a baby. This picture kind of freaks me out.

Photo by Blake. It would be perfect, except that you cannot see the bunny.

And my little punkins together. Ten months / eight years. My friend Keli was right: the days are long, and the years are short.

Eleven months. "Oh, THIS again."

Blake was not around to distract.

She was determined and a little bit evil.

"What?"

Bunny down! We have a bunny down!

oh, mother's day

It's happy stuff, right?! Yay, mothers! Bearers of life and the most sacrificial beings short of Jesus! Huzzah and cheers!

And I am one. Hurray, me! My list was short, but specific: sleep in, doughnuts and bacon for breakfast, time by myself, flowers and seeds for outside beds, no cooking all day. Essentially, I wanted to pretend, just for one day, that I was NOT a mother.

It worked out okay, but there's no getting around the two small people who just naturally look to ME for answers and food and attention and and and... I came out of our room to Vesper, following Rob around in the kitchen in her walker (watch your ankles!), babbling "MaMaMaMa!" when she usually follows me babbling "DaDaDaDa!" Her face absolutely lit up when she saw me, which always feels nice, but I got to change her nasty diaper, which does not feel nice at all. There's really no escaping motherhood when you're in the thick of it.

I checked a few things online and saw the glory of people honoring their mothers, being honored by their children, and wistfully missing the mothers who have died young or otherwise. Every mother's day, I exult in the blessings I've received, but there are thorns in the roses, even for me. Especially for me?

You see, I love people who are barren. I love people who have conceived and lost many, many tiny wee babies. I love people who yearn for motherhood, quietly, sadly, privately. I love people whose mothers have wounded them terribly and do not merit glowing cards. I love people whose mothers have died FAR too young. I love people whose own children have died FAR too young, who have buried their own adult child (my own mother-in-law). Chances are, you know and love people like this too, but you may not be aware of their whole stories. Life's just more complicated for me now, and being sensitive to the feelings of others while enjoying my own feelings can be a fine line.

Only when you’re broken are you tender enough to wrap yourself around anyone. - Ann Voskamp

Well, I just want to wrap myself around you all and hold you 'til it's better, but some of you are in Denver or St. Louis or Calgary or a different subdivision, so I'll pray you up and sing praises for you instead. I don't have a tidy way to wrap this up and slap a bow on it, so know that I see you. I love you. God sees you better and loves you more, and I pray there is comfort for you deep within that truth.

winning at life

My daughter managed to get poop on me today.

Twice.

Hours apart.

I think what she's trying to convey is that "Vesper rules, Mom drools." Except that she's also quite drooly, so it's very confusing. She's almost barely started to attempt crawling motions, but I just caught her doing the worm tonight to gain forward movement. For some reason, it reminded me A LOT that Rob is her father.*

But I'm still her mother, so THERE!

Actually, here. It is my friend Jackie and I.

* I've never seen Rob do the worm, which probably means he's teaching her privately.