the last of the bump

Monday, September 1

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Shoes: c/o Free People (check their newest shoes out right now. heart eyes.), Jeans: H&M, Lace mini: F21, Top: TJMaxx, Hat: UO, Bag: c/o Stela 9

I just want to point out that these photos are in no way a reflection of my state of togetherness right now. In fact, my pregnant insomnia would like to take this opportunity to apologize for having the audacity to even call itself insomnia last week. Me and my eye bags, we're all just laughing our heads off over here. But. All I can smell is newborn right now so, WHO IN THE WORLD CARES.

P.S. Happy Labor Day. Ha ha.


she's here!

Friday, August 29

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Born at 11:12 on Tuesday night, we welcomed our 6 lb 7 oz, 18 inch Isla Loie into the world. (A few have asked about pronunciation. Her middle name rhymes with Bowie. :))  So many thoughts and feelings experienced over the last few days, everything is such a blur right now. But we are so happy, and we are so in love and there are four of us. All of us together is the best thing Ive ever experienced.

a very very good weekend for no reason in particular

Monday, August 25

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Shoes: Converse, Skirt: Target, Top: TJ Maxx, Bag: c/o Stela 9, Sunglasses: ASOS

Oh what to say about a perfectly perfect weekend that included almost nothing noteworthy. We will of course, take note of it, because that's what we do here.

Everett's jumping head-on into the "I have opinions about my clothes" portion of his life, so on Friday night, before heading into town, it was me and Tyson and Everett cross-legged on the floor in front of his drawers, running through the options. 
No mom, the skeleton shirt is too scary.
Wait let me see it again.
Ahhhh! Too scary.
The "numbers shirt" aka the football jersey looks good, but wait no, it's actually a dress so never mind.
The yellow rain boots are an absolute must.
No, not the orange shorts.
No, not the black shorts either.
Suspender shorts? OK
Wait no, do the hiking boots instead.
The black tank top is a winner. Hey dad look at my big muscles.
Oh! We forgot the pirate hat.

So we're never going to be on time to anything ever again.
(But I like it, I do. Strong opinions are important in life. Gumption and stuff! And I would totally want to go to the park in my onesie monkey pajamas tucked into my rain boots too, if that wasn't the most disturbing mental image that ever existed.) 

So after that fun fest, we headed out. But not before I dutifully threw my hospital bag into the back seat, just to insure that I wouldn't go into labor that night. Since these are the facts right? Nothing ever happens when you're actually prepared. In town, we shopped for the man who never shops, we dined in the place where the free balloons are abundant, and in a darkened car, with a sleeping boy in the back seat, we parked and savored some truly delightful red velvet cake.

Saturday was rainy all day long. But it was, you know, that stupendous kind of rainy.
 
You sleep in, you mosey into the clouded kitchen light around 10 to scrounge up some oatmeal or leftover waffles to be eaten in bed. And you listen to the heavy drops on the street below, while you give the yays and the nays on your husband's closet clean-out, while your son walks on your calves and uses the mountain of pillows around you as his somersault arena. Later, you will all nap for 10 years. And then make a very late-night run to the grocery store for a light bulb and a limeade, because no one is even thinking about going to bed any time soon, most especially not the adorable chatterbox in the backseat.

So anyway, just sign me up or another weekend. I'll take mine tomorrow.


happy birthday tyson!

Friday, August 22

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This is Everett's favorite picture I think. He digs it out occasionally from the bottom of the desk drawer, holds it to his forehead, hides it down his shirt, balances it in the palm of his hand while walking "reallllly carefully mama", the regular things that one does with a picture. When I ask him who that is in the picture he says, "Iss daddy when he was an Everett."
Today is his birthday, this fine guy of ours. And today, we're bidding adieu to the 28 and welcoming in the 29 with NOT a trip to the hospital apparently. No, no, no, this baby does not believe in sharing birthdays. (No really, I get it. It's fine.) Instead, we're doing the obvious next best thing, which would be driving exactly one hour to go pick up the very best red velvet cream cheese cake that birthday card money can buy.
Happy birthday to you, baby! I'm having such a good time spending my life with you.

hi. these are my I don't care pants

Thursday, August 21

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Shoes: Converse, Pants: Target, Tee: F21, Hat: stolen/borrowed semi-permanently from my bro

I just want to point out that I'm totally aware of how wrinkled these pants are. But what is even the point of owning pants like these if you can't stuff the crap out of them in your drawer? And also pull them out at week 38 just to really drive home the point that you have NO idea what is happening below your belly button.

the beach, naturally

Tuesday, August 19

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Back in July, we took a family trip down to the beach for the weekend. Weekends like that are nothing but wind-blown, salty hair and glorious, glorious sand between your toes, and down your shirt, and all over the entire bathroom floor – the sure sign you’re doing it properly.
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I, like anyone, prefer to keep my own routine to the bare minimum while out in the sun since we are usually beach-hauling so many water diapers, towels, snacks, beach toys, hats, and umbrellas, the dollar store would be jealous.
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I know I’m covered by Made to Matter, Handpicked by TargetTM products. A little SheaMoisture CC Cream for coverage {with a bronze that doesn’t hurt}, some Yes to Cucumbers Natural Sunscreen SPF 30, Yes to Graprefruit lip balm, and Burt’s Bees After Sun Soother – it feels like a cool kiss to the skin – and I’m good to go.
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This post is sponsored by TargetThe Made To Matter line has been handpicked by Target to bring you brands that make things better for your you, your family, and the place we all call home. 


a tale of two Winks

Friday, August 15

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The time has come for the swapping of the Winks. The passing of the best friendship torch from one owl to the other, under strict orders to love a boy. The Wink you see on the right there, with the concave chest, tattered pocket, faded fabric and unseen hole on the side of his pants where his stuffing is coming out, is the Wink we got for Everett as soon as he was born. So that's what almost three years of love, companionship, and excessive trips through the washer/dryer looks like. The Wink on the left is his replacement. I was a little concerned that when I snuck the old Wink away to be kept in his keepsake box, and presented the new Wink to Everett, that there would be an initial rejection. But when he saw the new Wink, he exclaimed, "Winky got biiiiigger. He's a big boy! Like Everett." We inspected him for a while. Checked out his fancy new pocket. Got some scissors to cut the care tags off his back, flopped his big "crazy hair" around for a while, squeezed him tight, and gave him a drink of milk. Later when we were in Everett's room getting him dressed, he pushed the new Wink's head down, so that it looked like he was hanging his head. "Mama. Winky's sad. Winky is CRYING." I asked him why he was crying. "Winky wanna be little again. No wanna be a big boy." So I said, "Oh he does? He doesn't want to be big anymore?" Everett furrowed his brow and shook his head and then pulled Wink into his shoulder to give him a hug. Then all of a sudden he pulled Wink back from him and pushed the yarn out of his eyes. "Iss OK Winky! Everett's a big boy. Blankie is a big boy. Garbage truck is a big boy. Everyyyyyybody's a big boy!" He thrust Wink out to me with a grin, "Wink, Mama. Makin him happy!"
They take real good care of each other, those two. 


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