Goodbye Bikini, Hello Love.
Just last week I was sitting on a beach in Mexico with a piña colada on one side and my husband on the other. He was wearing a blue swimsuit that matched the blue of his eyes. I was wearing a green polka dot bikini that actually made me feel quite uncomfortable, being preacher’s kid who grew up wearing athletic shorts to my knees (dubbed “Lord Shorts” of course). But it was our honeymoon. You’re supposed to show skin on your honeymoon. You’re supposed to only wear skin on your honeymoon. Or something. We were so cute, he with his 4-ish pack (everyone loses a few “packs” after college), me with my toned legs and flat stomach. We were so…
Random Acts of…Something
Beckett loves going to the doctor. He also loves the act of taking medicine (which totally worked to my advantage recently when I gave him shots of 100% carrot juice every day for, like, 3 weeks straight). Any time one of his brothers is sick, he tries super hard to be sick, too. Maybe it’s the extra cuddling they get. Maybe it’s the medicine they take. Whatever it is, he wants it. So, naturally, he was oddly jealous this morning when Hutton took his antibiotics. (Antibiotics for his 4th double ear infection in 3 months, by the way.) (….if you listen closely you can hear my essential oiler friends giggle with glee at the prospect of wheeling their…
Smash and Crash, a Monster Truck Bash!
I live my life under the assumption that every stranger is one good joke away from being my best friend. I fancy myself a people collector of sorts. I also collect children, as the past 4 years has proven. When you collect both friends and children with the same fervency as you collect Beanie Babies, birthday parties can get out of control. “Hey, bae, I made the invite list for the party. Do you think 825 is too many? How big of a nugget tray would we need?” It’s oddly hard to transition from family-style, “come one come all” birthdays to “send your two year old only, please, because all of…
HutTWOn
When I was getting out of the shower a few weeks ago, Hutton pointed at where he thought my male parts should be (but clearly weren’t) and said, “Broken?” This is one of the many, many reasons I love our Hutton Smith. He makes us laugh on a minutely basis. (It’s also one of the many, many reasons mommy’s bathroom doors now stay shut.) So, anyway, this little cheeser just turned TWO. Side note: on rare occasion he’ll cheese at me like this and I think, “Thank heavens for that one time we had to shave part of your front teeth off. If you were still in your original, unaltered, God-made form, the…
“Well, Flitter.”
A week ago Sunday, my mom called with the news: Nanny has died. We knew it was coming; in fact, we were kinda praying it would happen quickly. A few months go, as her memory was betraying her more than ever, we got to FaceTime. And while she was lucid and engaged, she cybermet my son, her namesake, Davis Fielden. Several weeks later she met him in person, but by then she was pretty confused. So when mom called to tell me the news of her passing, I wasn’t surprised. But I was surprisingly sad. No matter how much you expect death, it still stinks. With Taylor at a conference for…
