Our Saviour was born today: let us be glad. For there is no proper place for sadness when we keep the birthday of the Life, which destroys the fear of mortality & brings to us the joy of promised eternity. …
“Final and irrevocable” were the words she used. Closed doors. An end. That chance was gone.
At last.
I was nauseous that morning eight years ago. Perhaps a combination of vitamins with a powerful antibiotic on an empty stomach? Perhaps …
I have always believed that if one Feasts properly, one is also ready for the Fast. Naturally, if one fasts well, the Feast is more delicious still.…
Every year when we were in Boston we watched the marathoners run by.…
I don’t have many words this week. But I want to share this with you. …
I miss you.…
Next door to Macia’s favorite coffee shop is Magpie, a store I could spend all my money in. …
Her language is exploding. She went straight from two word sentences (Daddy sit. Mommy eat.) to whole paragraphs. Her first long sentence was (furiously) “NO WADDO READ BOOK!” …
I remember, after my grandmother died, my mother went back home to divvy up the inheritance with her siblings, and to clear out Big Mom’s house so that it could be sold.…
Two months ago, Macia got her first cousin on her daddy’s side.…
berries!
Her words are just exploding, though they are hard to articulate. She has morphed “cracker” into a back-of-the-throat “guh-cawh” and “avocado” is something like “clalala.” But she is talking. She mimics our sounds and the right number of syllables …
Her dress is finished. She has new white shoes. I have enough lace left over to make a headband or a bow for her hair.…
So, I joined Instagram. …
Sitting in front of the Mary grotto while my Macie Rose played in the sand, I stared blankly at Momma’s huge rosemary bush, following he twisted branches in and out of the center of the bush. It was tough and …
I wasn’t expecting the grief that surfaced when I was alone at Daddy’s house. …
Does anyone remember Victor Borge? He did the phonetic punctuation bit? He also did a bit where he plays a piece by Fliszt. It’s not F. Liszt, of course. You don’t say “M. Ozart,” do you?…
Six years ago today, I had been married for just a day. …
You may have been looking for an update on the Babers on Good Friday. I’m sorry if you were disappointed. Maybe this will make up for it. Let’s do it in list form. #yaylists!…
Today we’re heading up to Macia’s 16 month check up. Yes, the kid is 16 months old.. is that crazy to anyone else? …
We have lots of carrots. ‘Tis the season, apparently, for our CSA produce share, but I made the mistake of asking Taylor to get “some carrots” at the store…
Up to? What is she up to these days?…
Yes, we hear that a lot. I am not ashamed to brag about it either, since we had nothing to do with her genetics.…
When she wants to get down (from her high chair or from the mei tai) she points down and growls: dooooooww…
The great irony of our journey to parenthood, to me, is the bottle brush that hangs by our sink. We use it almost daily to wash out the Babe’s bottles, but we didn’t buy it for her. We didn’t even …
Yesterday, we bought the Babe a new car seat. ‘Cuz seriously you guys, that kid is getting huge. And don’t tell me, “oh, but you’re just missing her bitty-baby days,” because we weren’t able to be there for …
“Oh, Anne–congratulations! You must just be on cloud nine. How exciting–it’s finally over.”
I’ve been getting that a lot lately.…
Babes and I have spent some time at the park this week. …
A friend reminded me of when we first met the Babe.…
Yep, the Babe is walking.…
Today I was thinking about clothes.…
We are laying low today. Babe and I are enjoying a quiet recovery day while Taylor studies au cafe.…
Most of you have seen the news on twitter or facebook already. That the Babe can stay with us.…
No, I won’t ever be ready. I think part of being an eternal being is that we are never ready to say goodbye. We weren’t meant to.…
The days just keep coming. One by one they tick away.…
This week, there’s been a lot of moaning. We suspect it’s mostly teething–kid is working on her left molar, poor thing. But that cranky tooth apparently makes it less comfortable to communicate. …
Eight days.…
How would you all like to have Fridays be the “update on what the Babe of Cutness has been doing this week” days?…
People have been telling me how lucky the Babe is to be with Taylor and me right now. We’ve been told how noble and selfless we are to open our hearts and home to her, and how wonderful we are …
Y’know, some people long for nicknames. And others naturally evoke an abundance. …
Saturday, chicken.…
Thursday, roast beef. …
I have been “momma” for two months. I have been changing diapers and filling bottles and washing clothes and wiping boogers and kissing fingers and toes for a wonderful nine weeks.…
Beautiful words from a dear friend…
“I look forward to the day when the 3 of you come to the ranch on a beautiful summer’s day filled with sunshine…
On Saturday, I went through some pictures with the Babe’s foster mother. Many pictures that, surprisingly, I have never seen before. Moments we were not present for. Smiles we never saw, laughter we never heard.…
My mother died in March. On the eleventh. Two and a half years ago.…
We are still waiting.…
Last weekend was good. It was great and very full. And here is another one looming, just down the road–how quickly time moves on..
Friday, after running a few errands, we headed out to see the Babe. It was a …
One week ago, my younger sister’s boyfriend asked her to marry him. She may, perhaps, have been furious with me, even in her ecstatic joy, when I admitted that I knew about it (well) ahead of time. …
In many ways, simply fostering an infant seems easier to me. If one takes the infant home, as a foster parent, one knows that the infant will only be with you for a time, that he won’t stay in your …
I wake up to this song most mornings. Lilting and a bit mournful, it reminds me of being so far from our baby girl, but still treasuring the time we’ve had with her. We’ll always have that.
Happy 9-month birthday, …
A veritable eternity in the life of a nine-month old. Or for the waiting, hopeful-parents of a nine-month old.…
Two more hours and I will cycle home from work.
Two hours and 10 minutes and I will call the foster mother…
Sitting in the sunny window seat of a cafe last week, glancing outside between sips of my cappuccino and notes to my husband on chat, I saw a young man hanging around in front of the cafe. …
I remember very clearly how I felt, walking along a sunny side-street in Ravenna, Italy, when I felt the first mild cramping that signaled the beginning of my period.…
Peter called out: “Lord, if it is You, command me to come out to You on the water.”
And the Lord said: “Come.” …
She is 8 months old today. 34 weeks. 243 days.
I have seen her less than 30 times in her whole life.…
So many smiles. Clapping. Tear-wiping. Even a little whooping and hollering. Mr. & Mrs. for the first time.…
Mass this Sunday was my first of the summer without Taylor. Last week we were in California together. The week before, Seattle. It was a strange feeling, surrounded by people but sitting by myself. …
You can read “tear” two ways. One, those salty-secretions from your eyes–in joy or sorrow or laughter or allergies. Two, as in things-torn, the act of ripping…
Today I am flying to California to see my family. My WHOLE family. [Except for baby girl.. She has to stay on this coast.] My flight was delayed 15 minutes, …
It was so much more than simply saying goodbye to my husband for a few days, or a week, or several. It was more than knowing I would be facing an empty house coming home from work, or going to …
With my head perched on the sill of my bedroom window, I hear birds in neighboring trees through my wire-grid screen. When I focus closely, every part of the world fits into neat little boxes. …
I am in limbo. Hovering, or perhaps falling, in an empty space I didn’t even know existed in the realm of “becoming mother.” …