Here’s what made me smile this week:
My boys are really starting to love each other. Holden laughs while Brandon entertains him. Every morning, Brandon asks to go see Holdy.
This kid’s smile
Brandon uses anything he finds as a bucket. I know my son is getting bigger because his toys are getting smaller.
It’s hard to get a picture of this kid with his pants on these days. He picked out purple frosted cookies at Eileen’s. Earlier, on one of the few days that I actually used my hair straightener (I rarely wear makeup or do my hair or primp at all now that I don’t work), he pointed at is and said, “look mom, a crocodile!”
The rosy cheeks. The full lips. The folded over ear. All of it.
I look at this picture and realize just how big my little baby has gotten. When did those fingers get so big? Those legs so long? This is Brandon’s fort. He will be appalled to learn that one day soon he’ll have to share it with Holden.
I snapped this today before Steve’s twelfth alarm roused him out of bed. I love his curly hair. And his beard. And his hat line from golfing without wearing sunscreen.
I started reading this book upon finishing Anne Frank. It is profound and funny and relatable. I was looking for something light after two biographies, so I found this on my bookshelf. I didn’t know it was about cancer. But even still, it is interesting and not depressing (so far).
I have a full library here of books, many I haven’t read. I always browse the Half Price Books clearance section and pick up memoirs or best sellers or other works by authors I know. But even still, I occasionally reserve books at the library – the three week deadline seems to speed up my very slow reading pace. I decided to read some of the books that will be movies soon
. So I went and picked up a couple yesterday and realized once I saw the covers that one I already had, sitting in my own library – the Nick Hornby one (he also wrote About a Boy
). While going through my library, I found the picture above in a book. Gracie made this for me years ago.
My life, although I am only 31, has already been full. This man I get to call my husband, the three beautiful children I have given birth to, and being able to watch the two boys grow and learn every day.
Steve and I don’t get much time together just the two of us. But when we do, and we’re not doing chores, we sometimes have these interesting and deep conversations that I look forward to and look back on with joy. The other night, he said to me that he barely gets to see his boys. “What do you mean?” I asked. “You live with us. You see us every day.”
“I know,” he replied, “but I’m at work all day and I get jealous that I’m missing out on what they’re doing. That you get to be with them all the time every day and I only see them in the evenings.”
It made me tear up. That he is jealous of me and that it is because of him that I get to do exactly what makes him jealous in the first place. These kids are pretty great. I would be jealous of anyone who got to spend more time with them than I do, too.
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