I’ve wasted a lot of time banging on doors that I was never meant to walk through. Over the past year or so, I’ve become better at not only identifying which doors aren’t for me, but then also, letting those doors go. I’ve stared at a lot of shut doors, knowing that they weren’t for me, but obsessing over why they are shut. I’m over all that. If I don’t need it/want it, then I’m also going to let it go and walk away from it. No more worrying about why closed doors are closed. It’s time to start walking through open ones. Ya feel me?
This family hike:
Last Saturday, we (I) desperately wanted to get out of the house as a family and we had $20 to make it happen. So we decided to head to our favorite park that has some of the best trails and the most breathtaking sunsets.
There are very few things that I love more than being out in nature with my little family. I love seeing Theo try to climb every tree he comes across. I love walking hand in hand with Mike (or my little honey-bunnies, if they let me). I love wearing Beatrice in my carrier and feeling her warm breath as she snuggles close to my chest. I love being outside and allowing my body and mind to be refreshed. And I love pizza. (I promise that was a segue and not a tangent.)
This family pizza night:
Pizza is delicious. There is nothing more delicious than pizza. Except, perhaps, pizza eaten after a crisp winter’s hike. A new pizza chain opened up a sit-down location nearby, so we took our $20 and ordered two medium, one topping pizzas and stuffed ourselves silly.
Oliver was covered in mud and, eventually, pizza sauce, which he got all over me and the booth. Theo kept peering creepily over our booth at the people sitting beside us. And Bea cried the whole time, eliciting more than our fair share of stares from other patrons. But oh well. I didn’t have to cook. And I didn’t have to clean up afterwards. And I got to eat cheesy pizza loaded with banana peppers and red pepper flakes. It’s all good.
This little baby:
Guys, I just like her a whole heck of a lot.
This amateur hair cut:
So this happened. And boy was he pleased with himself. He took Mike’s hair cutting tools and had at it, so now his hair is cropped suuuuper short in the back and his bangs have the most ridiculous chunk cut out of them, but oh well. I did the same thing as a kid. Although, unlike Theo, I was terrified of getting in trouble. So I attempted to glue mine back on. Yes, you read that right. Glue. I think it was Elmers. My parents weren’t fooled.
This morning reading:
My parents got me a journaling Bible for Christmas and I really, really love it. It’s written without breaks or any other Bibly information so it reads like a chapter book with wide, lined margins for jotting down notes. Oh and the cover is bound in this beautiful print that makes it look like it’s a Dickens’ novel or something. So cool.
This sweet afternoon coffee break:
Oh, she just fills be with all the feel-good-feels. The coffee (espresso roast!) and the muffin (pineapple cream cheese!) just put me over the top.
This little snowman builder:
Theo went outside one day and started building a snowman by himself. I was super impressed. He came running in to ask for a carrot but we were fresh out. So I gave him a mandarin orange. We are preeety creative around here.
These rotten boys:
These two. How can they be both oh-so-sweet and oh-so-incredibly-rotten? I mean, SERIOUSLY. One day was particularly brutal. The day before, Theo snuck off to the basement to try his hand as barber. The next day, Theo shoved his brother into the base of our sofa and Oliver’s face was so bruised and swollen I thought for sure his nose was broken. The day was full of fighting and drama, and daddy had a meeting after dinner so I was on my own to get these two wild animals to bed.
It’s not a big deal; I was on my own every night last year with Mike working two jobs and completing his Master’s program. Anything is easier than that. But I was still kind of over all the drama that these two were dishing out. Normally that would mean an earlier than usual bedtime (no shame in that, mommas). But this night, I just needed to end on a sweet note. I needed to bake something and stuff them with chocolate and cover them in kisses and let them know that even though they were little terrors, that their momma really, really liked them. Like a whole lot. Because they know I love them, but some days I’m not so sure they think I like them. Heck. I’m not so sure I like them.
So with them on one side of the counter and me on the other, I measured and poured and mixed and stirred, while they poked and grabbed and spilled and squabbled. Less than an hour later, they were in our little breakfast nook, mouths full of cake and….wait for it…..QUIET. Ahh, bliss. The house smelled like cake. I was covered in flour. And I packed them off to bed, an hour later than usual, with their tummies stuffed and my heart and little lighter.