Down here all the fish is happy, as off through the waves they roll. The fish on the land ain't happy, they sad cause they in the bowl.

Commencement 2009

Graduation this year was a two-day extravaganza, beginning in the Smith Center, with a detour through the National Mall, and ending up, as all good graduations should, in the Air and Space Museum.

Hi there.

Condolences

To our friends who are infinitely more than our friends: they are our family, and a loss of theirs is a loss of ours.

Our hearts are with you.

The rearview.

Happy Mother's Day!

MMMMMWWAAAAA!!!!!

One little monkey, jumping on the bed

Tooth fairy.

Getting stuff done, at the click of a button.

Month 11

Dear Sophie,
Today, you are eleven months old. Every day that goes by, you develop more and more personality. You make expressions you've never made before. You show, in your own little way, that you understand more and more of what goes on around you. You are becoming less of a bystander and more of a participant in life.

You have started to play with the Vet Center that I got for you before you were even born. You like to stand at the front, and chew on all of the parts. Your favorites are the blood pressure bulb, a toy syringe, and, of course, the little vitamin bottles that I find all over the house.

These past couple of weeks DC had some glimpses of summer weather. It was a shade over 90, and we pulled out the summer clothes and played outside. At first, you didn't really like the grass poking you in your chubby little legs, but after a while you got used to it. We played out in the front yard while your Dad washed the cars, and then we went out to Fairfax Corner to see the kids running in the fountain. We stood at the very edge of the fountain, and you got wet a couple of times. Each time the water spurted up, you squealed with delight.

Oh, and you pulled my hair.

Now you eat pretty much everything. You're still pretty partial to sweet potatoes and squash, although you're pretty much done with the Puffs. Instead, you really like cheese crackers and Crunchies. Some other favorites are blueberry purree, apple juice (in a Sippy, no less!), string cheese and pears.

It's kind of crazy to know that you have been part of our lives for almost a year. An integral part. Nearly everything we do revolves around you. And it's good. I couldn't imagine it any other way.

Love,

Mama

Because you come here for the baby pictures.

Three years ago today.

Killing you with cuteness.

Future aquarium enthusiast of America.

It's complicated.

It's hard to get good pictures. Because most of my pictures look something like these.

BE the laundry.

Your baby can read. Mine can spell.

Happy Birthday, Grandpa!

Moving forward.

Why Dad doesn't fix hair.

Being grown up means you get to eat chips and salsa for breakfast.

I know, it's not fair.
From Easter Brunch at Guapo's.

Again, and again.

I am not really a mommy-blogger. I don't have ads, I don't have a following, I don't Twitter. I don't even have a Facebook account. As far as I know, the only people who peruse my pictures and read my ramblings are my family and a few friends.
But I read. Every morning, I check my blogroll to see who has updated their page, who has new pictures or new ramblings for me to read. I have a pretty long list of blogs I read, some stay on the list for only a couple months, and others are such long-time favorites that I put links to on my own blogroll. Like Dooce, or Amalah, or Mr. Lady, or Matt, who are all blogosphere royalty with followings in the thousands and published books. Dooce was even on the Today show, where I am sure she met one of my idols, Ann Curry's Stylist. (If anyone knows who this is, please ask her/him to be my friend. And maybe we can go shopping?)


The interconnectedness of this world is amazing. As is the unwavering support that a lot of these writers find there.

This week, the blogosphere suddenly, inexplicably, lost two of our own.
Maddie
Thalon
There are no words that can be expressed to acknowledge them. Please think of their parents in your prayers, for their loss of one so very young, is just not fair.
One so very loved, so wanted, so welcomed, with futures that have been dreamed of, wondered about, planned for, hoped for, forever left unrealized, unfulfilled. But not forgotten. Never, ever forgotten.
March of Dimes, Maddie's Memorial.

She likes the grass better than the toys...

Happy Easter!!!

In da hood.

I had to throw this shirt away.

Healing.

So this is pretty much was Carlos's scar is going to look like. For, like, ever. He's finished wearing his boot, for which he is ecstatically overjoyed. Or maybe his doctor was afraid he'd get punched in the throat if he told him he had to wear it longer. Alas, we'll never know. Physical therapy is on course, and life is slowly going back to normal. Whatever that means.

Friends.

Farmer Sophie.

Naptime.