Things

Things about us.

J.

A baby dreamboat.

Loves: his pacie; tummy time; looking around; walks in the moby wrap

that end like this:

What we love: only waking up once or twice a night to feed him; more and more snuggles throughout the day;

him.

T.

Boy through and through.

Loves: throwing things, anything; Pippy; sneaking into his "bayyybeee" brother's room any second we turn our head; playing chase with his sis.

What we love: his little words, his hugs and kisses,

him.

El.

A girl of her own.

Loves: helping with anything and everything, pretending, reading,

singing, her brothers.

What we love: her cuddles, her silliness, her nurturing way, her.

The hubs-man.

Our superhero.

Loves: working in the yard with his tag-alongs, getting up with me in the night on diaper duty (right, dear?), his fantasy football (win me some moolah, hun.), me (you know it, babe.).

Me.

Learning more and more about my new at-home career.

Loves: This cool weather, my morning coffee, Jazzercise and starting to run again, bein' able to say, "my boys" or "my girl", my nightly TiVo date with the hubs, a busy fall photography schedule.

Life is so very blessed with these things, the ordinary, the beautiful.

--

On a little more vulnerable note, I've been thinking a lot about my grandpa lately. 

A new wave of tears the last few days, comfort in knowing he's whole and happy with the angels, but sad for us here. 

Remembering my last time just sitting with him, watching him, hugging him, and then my next trip to his home, his body there, his spirit gone. 

It's a strange thing, this thing called grief. 

His memoirs are being published soon, just a piece of his legacy, him. He had a way of slowly digesting, appreciating, learning from, beautifying the everyday.

A man worth living like.