pictures and words

 

I’m kind of all warm and fuzzy inside, because I just finished adding pictures to our 2011 photo book.   It’s pretty amazing, because I’ve never actually finished a photo book. I had all these grand schemes for our wedding album, Hudson’s first year, and so on, but those projects got too in depth and overwhelmed me.  I no longer wanted anything to do with them.

But this time,  I powered through and decided that no words would be allowed, after all don’t pictures already contain thousands?  So, no words and no limited amount of pages.  We’re 80 pages in, folks.  Eighty pages full of tiny moments and big ones too, from this year known as 2011.

The cover alone hold 700 small photos taken on my phone turned in a massive collage. 

And while, I feel rather victorious, I also just relived a year in the life of us. I filled many pages with photos of my newborn baby girl, superfluous amounts to be exact, and nearly as many with my goofy little boy.  I watched the seasons change from winter to spring, and from spring, the sky turned radiantly blue and the water from the lake sparkled in the warm summer air.  The warmth faded into a mosaic of glorious autumn hues and slowly, (thankfully) those colors floated down from the trees leaving bare, spiny trees and a brown earth.  Even today, the rain is erasing any remnants of previous fallen snow, and rain means the temperatures are higher than freezing, glory.  

I clicked and clicked as tiny newborn faces turned into a sitting, crawling, and standing, full of life, wild eyed wonder.  I saw a brother very unsure of this new little creature in his home grow into her favorite playmate and he’s just waiting for the day she will chase him down the hallway as far as she can. I watched a two year old turn three, his imagination soar and his spirit as gentle (and yet, trying) as ever.  I noticed the depth of the reservoirs of a father’s love for his baby girl, with the shiny blue eyes melting him always.  And the way my heart swells when my little boy sinks into my arms. 

As I revisited every walk to the beach, every trip to get ice cream, all the adventures and celebrations, I studied the face of my love, the one who stole my heart.  The guy who I never planned on meeting on that California mountain and now everyday he loves and works so hard for me, for us.  Sometimes, it still catches me off guard, this life, this family we have made, the dreams we are building.  Sometimes, so much so, that I run out of words.

 

Linking up with Heather and all those Just Write folks.

homemade marshmallows

The thing is this, they will change your life.  And I mean that, because you think you like marshmallows, the ones in plastic bags at the store and you think you like them on your hot cocoa, but really, you don’t know.

Because, then you have a homemade marshmallow and you wonder, did I even know what marshmallows were until now?  Nope.

One of my dearest friends and her parents came into town for the weekend and it was amazing.  After a dinner of lasagna and homemade French bread, we stirred milk and three kinds of chocolate on the stove until they melted into perfection.  Then we plopped one of these little guys on top and it slowly formed this creamy, delicious layer of magic. Game changer.

I make them every year, but usually only around Christmas.  They are a perfect gift to give and people will stop and say, I didn’t even know people could make marshmallows.  You don’t forget homemade marshmallows.

Here’s the recipe, enjoy!

When you only have a little to give

Last night I dreamed of a land that was dark and gloomy, full of 2,3, and 4 am sighs.  A world where parents never sleep and babies woke up crying.  But, then strangely, that dream never ended and here I am in this foggy, foggy world, spending lots of time with this delicious mug of magical, black goodness.

The sun is shining, the sky is blue, and the snow is kind of assaulting my sleepy eyes with a rude brightness, a kind that only people who slept would enjoy, you know the chipper folks.  Yet, somehow the brightness and the blueness are a comfort on this winter morning, telling me that life and fullness is possible, but only if I squint a little bit. 

The truth is today might be long, really long, but right now I will decide that if I only have so much to give, if I only can do one or two things today, there is no competition.

It’s simple and really, they are the sweeter choice, with their hugs and their great interest in being with mommy. I’m pretty much a celebrity around here.  So, I’ll choose them and nothing else.

Much better  than trying to be a  grumpy do it all monster walking around in a haze.

And I cleaned yesterday and who cares if I didn’t.

And we have nowhere to go.

And projects will get done.

So, really, it’s simple. They win.

We’ll pile blankets on the floor and collect all the pillows, because that is a land where no one can be grumpy. 

And in a way, knowing this and doing this means I win too.

 

It’s Tuesday, er, right?  I’m linking up with Heather and the Just Write gang. You can too.