recovery

I have found myself with a guilty complex since I first heard of the Sandy Hook tragedy.  What business do I have enjoying a movie with my family while parents grieve of their tiny joy taken from them so soon?

But the problem with this is, that means fear is squandering my joy; swallowing my gratefulness, and causing me anxiety--not the way anyone should live.  Alternatively, I have taken this time to put myself out there, make myself slightly uncomfortable and vulnerable in the name of embracing the joy in my life.  I have taken the time to grieve for these families; now it's time to honor their children by worshiping my own.


Long ago, before our adventures in moving began, my goal was to celebrate Christmas in a new home. I had no inclination that I would be cutting it so close, but I am thankful nonetheless.  And celebrate Christmas we will!

I have a million things to finish before then, including my cards, last minute gifts, and a Santa run (which means: his elves slacked off and I'm doing the hard work of finding a flipping stegosaurus...not that I'm participating in some sort of holiday themed running event though I probably should be).  To be decided: cookies to add to my mint chunk cookies.  I basically had to make those in order to break in my new oven.

Joy.  I have so much joy.  The tiny hands that tug at my pants as she begs for a nap (this really happens), the washer and dryer that sing miniature tunes when it's time to give them attention.  My sweet big girl infatuated with Christmas and Santa - the way her whole face lit up when she got her own message from Santa.

Our move here has been so natural in seamless in some ways, it seems like we just naturally found our place in the puzzle.  And then there's an extra needy Eisley and Ruby with a few added defenses in her arsenal of pushing buttons.  I know this has affected them in some ways; but it's also very comforting to see them adapt to their toys in a new location so easily.

I started off a new chapter with a new look, and chopped many, many inches off of my hair.  After an unfortunate hair experience this fall, it was time to cut the ugly and now I'm having cutter's remorse and half-wondering if I just turned in my young and fabulous card for an official mom (with a bob) card.

haircuts and celebratory drinks on the night we closed (and also a sleeping Eisley)

I'm fairly in love with these two.  And by fairly, I mean a whole stinkin' lot.  Obsessed, really.

{today while we ate the most delicious gelato; Ruby told me she would have liked hers in a pine cone.  I told her, "Next time."}