Their Poppy and my dad.

I am so happy about how my babies love their PopPop... or their papaw, poppy and grandpa Don. 
He loves them unconditionally and always waiting to spoil them rotten.  Their grandpa is amazing.  They know it and love him with all their hearts.  I am so very lucky that I get to call him dad.

When you are 15 years old, and your dad is grounding you - again... it is so easy to forget.
You forget the love, the concern and the whole "your child is your heart beating outside your body" issues that make things crazy.  You think that his job is easy, until you have it.

So thank you dad...
for all the early mornings, late nights, crappy jobs, middle of the night store runs, the hours in the ER or urgent care, car hunting, driving lessons, home repair, babysitting, pick-ups and drop-offs, baby holding, grand kids loving, hardware store runs, broken window repairing... I could go on for days, but you get the idea.

You told Michael the other day how much you love, appreciate and respect him.  He was a little speechless but tried to say how he feels about you.  I know we could never tell you, but you and mom mean the world to us and our gang.  Watching you and mom - the unconditional love you guys have for each other - it has taught Michael and I the most about being married than anyone else.

We love you to the moon and back... and back again.
Happy Father's Day!


There are lucky kids, and then there are our babies.
SO lucky to have you as a dad.  They probably won't remember all the nights you danced them to bedtime, all the songs you sang, all the books you read, or all the couch cuddles you gave... But I know they will remember that you were there, loving them to no end, being their champion. The love you give them - mentally and physically, making them your priority over all other things.
It matters.  And it matters a lot.

To the best dad I know... making our babies the best loved babies in the land...

Happiest Father's Day to you!



Mr. Theodore
Three years old.

Dear Sir, you are our force.
You bring the chaos, the light and the life to every moment of everyday.
The most loving guy in the whole world - you give hugs and kisses as you run by and then apologize for the thrown elbow or knees that land as you thunder through.
A true bruiser with a heart of gold.

Happy Birthday Dear Sir.
We love you to pieces.



Tonight Michael called me from the hospital to tell me thank you for being a great mom.  He is working the 24 hour plus shift today.  He woke up with the kiddos this morning so I could catch a few more winks and added a page to a memory book he started for me last Mothers' Day which I love.  Such a sweetie that guy of mine.

Then I spent the afternoon and evening with this lady.  My mama.  The one that taught me how this mothering gig should go.  I know that I don't know even half of the sacrifices she made, the nights she went without sleep or the meals that she skipped... As I have gotten older and had babies of my own I realize more and more that she did that was unseen and unheard.

But I do remember seeing her at school functions racing in to be there for me still in her work clothes and smiling because she made it.  Smelling the Vic's Vapor Rub that she put on a wash cloth on my chest when I was so stuffy and sick.  Me on the couch and her somewhere near by... and now I know how she must have worried and I am sure she watched me sleep.  I remember skipping school because she had a day off work just to hang out.  Driving with the windows down and her half singing the words to all the songs.  Hearing her and dad sneak around wrapping presents on Christmas Eve.  Ringing bells because she said that made an angel get their wings.  Her always looking for mom & pop restaurants and ice cream stands because she has always hated the chains. I remember picking out school clothes and being taught lessons in value and getting a bargain over something cheap and trendy... and her also going back and getting me that god-awful neon spandex outfit I begged and begged for anyway.  I remember the way she smelled when she held me when I was sick - her perfume mixed with just her.  Laying awake until she came home some nights super late from work and pretending to sleep when she came in to tuck me in.  Making cookies and deep dish pizza, that we would catch right before it burnt - sometimes.  Looking for four leaf clovers and her usually always finding one.  

Thank you mom.  For being there, tired, hungry, exhausted... always.  And thank you even more for being there for them, my babies and your grand babies.  Because even when you're not here with them...
 you are the one that taught me how to be.


Name Change

A few months ago, Eva started writing her name with the letters "AB" at the end on all of her papers from school.  At first I wasn't sure if she was just practicing, or trying to write her last name?  When I asked her about it, at first she just said she liked the "AB" - it gave her more letters.  

At her kindergarten screening a few weeks ago they had the kids find their own name tags and then bring their parents the huge (really huge) stack of paperwork under them.  Eva walked down the row of names, stopping ever so briefly at her own name and then moved on.  She then tells the teacher that her name wasn't there.  So the teacher asks her name.  "It's Eva."  So her and the teacher go to the tag that says her first and last name and the teacher asks if this was her name.  "Nope that's not it. My name is Eva AB.  That is my old name.  Didn't my mom tell you?"

Yeah, so she has changed her name.  Eva AB.  And I have also been informed that when she turns 6, on her very special next birthday, her name is going to change.   
It will be Eva ABC.


evidence: not so marvelous

Someone did not think the Slinky was a marvelous thing... I was told because it was a bad bouncer.
I actually would have to agree - it never "walked" down the stairs like that commercial.


his boots

Theo really likes his new rainboots. He's now worn them for a few naps and insisted on them for bedtime last night.  At around 2 in the morning, I think he had a nightmare and woke up screaming.  As I rocked him back to calm, I slipped his boots off while I sang Twinkle Twinkle Little Star.  When I laid him down almost fully asleep, his little arm shot up and then pointed at his feet - "my boots please." So I slid them back on.