This is what 4 months looks like

Elle, you giant, darling little girl...please stop growing so fast!

I think she looks like my Uncle Willie.  Which is another way to say she is all Schuette.

This is what 10 years looks like

Once upon a time, on a very hot summer day ten years ago, two crazy kids tied the knot.

It was literally 100 degrees that day.  Photo cred to the fabulous Front Room Photography.

Good Grief

She would be so mad at me for posting this picture. There were 23 and counting different brands of wrinkle creams in her bathroom on the day she passed. It's cool, Gma, vanity is our favorite vice too.

As I'm sitting here, a few stolen moments while Grace plays with my phone and Elle sleeps in, I'm feeling the loss of my grandmother-in-law who passed away last week.  She was elderly, she was ill, she was ready to go...it's about the best you can hope for, but it's still sad.  She was lovely, inside and out, and I am going to miss her tremendously.  Today I'm thinking about her because some of her treasures are in my dining room, waiting to be sorted, her beautiful glass bowl is holding bananas on my countertop, and thanks to a serendipitously timed moment, her car is parked in my driveway (more on that later). Most mornings are too busy for me to sit still and read or write, but today I have time, and I'm thinking about the passage I read in my Daily Guideposts book the morning after Grandma passed away.  It's a story of a woman suffering from macular degeneration who, regarding her failing eyesight says, "You can never be grateful enough until it's gone."  The author of the passage goes on to explain how she recognized this woman's grief not as self-pity, but as a "deep expression of thanksgiving for something or someone I am missing."  I've never considered that before, grief equalling gratitude.  Grief is hard.  It's sad.  It hurts right in the solar plexus, where no amount of food or drink or hugs can reach.  But to grieve is to have lost something worthy of your love.

Elle's nursery

Spoiler alert:  

*Elle has the best room in our house*  

The reason being, it gets beautiful west-facing light, unencumbered by the giant trees that occupy our yard. Take a look at the photo below, when this pretty room belonged to Grace.

This is what 2.5 looks like

Insert advertisement here.

This girl. I love her.  

This is what two months looks like

Elle, my sweet child, how have you been with us for two whole months already?  I cannot get enough of this baby!

Expectations

A few weeks ago my sisters, my grandma, Eric and I were sitting around my parent's kitchen table  when the subject of personality types came up.  My sister Eden has always thought of herself as a type A "mini Hans."  Hans, my dad, is a type A++: decisive, organized, efficient, likes control.  Eden thought that's how she is too, but everyone disagreed.  Eden is super silly, easygoing and laid back. However, she likes to be on top of her work, she likes her life organized and tidy, so she assumed, if not an A++, she was at least an A.  The rest of the table said nope. B. (Well not me, I still think she's an A.  Maybe an AB.)  Eden, clearly shell shocked, was left to ponder this revelation, while everyone else at the table moved on to the REAL TYPE A, ME.  Words like "stressed out" and "controlling" were tossed about, and, feeling a little uneasy, I demanded we find a real definition to see what exactly constitutes a type A.