Maybe It's Much Too Early in the Game

One of the "perks" of being the parent of a toddler is that we are not out celebrating somewhere, watching something drop, as we count down the seconds to 2017.  I'm not sure whether that's a win for us or not.  The win that I can guarantee is that our two year old is already in bed.  So, we will fight the fight of all parents of young children (especially those who are 32 weeks pregnant) on New Year's - can we stay awake until midnight?  It's an exciting life, folks.  All of that aside, I wouldn't trade it for the world and I can promise that I am more than happy ringing in the new year with my favorite person.

Six years ago, on New Year's Eve, Adam proposed.  So, on this night, we do at least acknowledge our engage-a-versary.  This time around, we had a lovely steak dinner on our wedding china.  We taught Amelia how to do "cheers" and heard gleeful, toddler shouts of "happy New Year" throughout our romantic dinner.  Because of that significance for our family, New Year's is doubly meaningful.  You know how I love my special occasions.

Anyway, on this eve of a new year, I'm going to join the throes of people who are looking back and looking forward.  This is always a precipice and this year (just like all others) had it's ups and downs.  Yes, I will be the first to acknowledge that 2016 was tough at times; sometimes it felt unfair, sometimes we lost people, sometimes we had our hearts broken, sometimes we fought the good fight and still lost.  Even so, 2016 was also a year of smiles, of laughter, of growth, of new things, of anticipation and of life.

I thought about giving you the rundown of my favorite parts of 2016, or my resolutions for 2017 (which are, as always, many but not a little bit vague), or even just a countdown of moments to add to your countdown to the new year.  However, I decided against it.

Tonight, you do you.  Take the time to look back; think about your favorites of 2016.  Think about what made you smile, what told you to get out of bed in the morning, what made you look forward to the next day, what you learned, who you met, all of those things that make life, life.

Yes, you should also think about the things that were tough; that didn't work for you in 2016.  Think about your mistakes, think about the hurt, others that were hurt, what went wrong.  That's how we make 2017 better; that's how we move forward.

In the coming year, I hope that we will all move forward.  Looking back is important; we must know where we came from and how we got to where we are.  Moving forward doesn't mean we forget the past, but rather, that we learn from it.  Moving forward doesn't mean we give up on the things we aspire to change, but rather, that we evolve in our tactics, that we re-adjust our approach, that we concentrate on growing the right way.

My hope for 2017 is that it will be the year of love.  We should aspire to love so deeply, so radically, in such an all-encompassing way, that it cannot be ignored.  My hope for you in 2017 is that you are loved, you give love and you live love, whatever that looks like for you.

Right now, days pass quickly.  Our new addition's arrival is coming soon; my to-do list is a mile and a half long.  However, I am aspiring to cherish the moments we have as a family of three (plus Scout) and actively wait in happy anticipation for the changes in store in the next couple of months.  Currently, it's tough to see past the looming month of February.  Obviously, I have high hopes for you, 2017.

Happy New Year!

Little Full, Lotta Sap

Well, at least you can’t say I didn’t warn you.  During the season of Advent, my heart is always a little full, and there is never a shortage of sap.  I, like so many other people, do adore Christmas, not just the day, but the season.  Clark W. Griswold, Jr. may rival my love of the fun, old fashioned family Christmas, but I would never question that it’s the season to be merry (or is it Mary?) or waver in my dedication to have the hap-hap-happiest Christmas since Bing Crosby tap-danced with Danny Kaye (in another of my all-time favorite movies). 

I’m not going to channel Linus VanPelt right now and give you rundown of what Christmas is all about.  That’s not what I’m trying to do today.  Today, I’m thinking of the waiting; the waiting, the anticipation, the preparation, all leading up to the celebration.  In the liturgical calendar, the church year begins on the first Sunday of Advent.  While Advent may fall at the end of our regular calendar year, for Christians, it is just the beginning.  Christmas is the beginning of the Easter story. Each week has a different focus; hope, peace, joy and love.  Then, the last focus is on the coming of Christ. 

To me, the anticipation makes the celebration sweeter.  Frederick Buechner said it better than I could in The Magnificent Defeat, “For outlandish creatures like us, on our way to a heart, a brain and courage, Bethlehem is not the end of our journey but only the beginning – not home but the place through which we must pass if we are ever to reach home at last.”

Those of you who know me (and let’s be honest, I doubt anyone who doesn’t know me is reading this blog), know that I absolutely love surprises.  I will go out of my way to avoid ruining a surprise.  I have never searched for Christmas presents; I have never shaken them, I have never tried to un-tape one corner to have an early look or made an attempt to convince my little brother to open them for me.   Along those same lines, if you know me, you also know that patience is not one of my virtues.  In certain situations, I may be able to feign patience and with some people it manifests itself in different ways; however, patience is most definitely not something that comes easily.  That being said, Advent is a different kind of waiting.  This is not a sit around, twiddle-your-thumbs, count the minutes kind of waiting. 

“Patience is waiting.  Not passively waiting.  That is laziness.  But to keep going when the going is hard and slow – that is patience.  The two most powerful warriors are patience and time.” –Leo Tolstoy

This is exactly that; an active waiting.  As we wait, we prepare.  We reflect.  We also wrap presents, decorate, go see Santa, foster the wonder of the season, bake cookies, travel all over the place, party, and watch every single Christmas movie/special/hallmark program that we can binge between Black Friday and Christmas Day.  Somewhere in there, we like to think that our priorities stay in line; that we do think of the less fortunate, that we are teaching our children that this season isn’t about gifts or money or cramming as much as possible into one month.  My “Psalty’s Christmas Calamity” record (yes, record), put it so nicely when I was a child; “Christmas is a time to love.”  Christmas is a time for hope, for peace, for joy and yes, for love. 

I do not mean that we should rebound and completely forego any of the wonder of Santa or gifts or any other fun, silly parts of Christmas.  I am not campaigning about semantics, to keep the “Christ” in “Christmas.”  There is no possible way that any of us could take him out.  I am not saying that Christians are being persecuted when someone says “Happy Holidays,” because there is nothing wrong with saying “Happy Holidays.”  In fact, “Happy Holidays” to all of you.  When we concentrate on those things, our priorities are just as skewed as if we take to the opposite extreme.

This year, seemingly more than others, we all need a little Christmas.  No matter where you fall on the political spectrum, it has been a bit of a tough year.  There have also been wildfires, deaths, hateful rhetoric, fear, infringements of rights, war, skewed priorities and so many other things that feel so heavy.  Maybe it’s the fact that baby girl #2 is making her presence more obvious, maybe it’s that a certain two-year-old is completely enchanted with the idea of Christmas this year, maybe it’s just the feeling of pulling all of the Christmas stuff out of the attic, or maybe it’s the combination of all of it, but I am feeling Christmas this year. 

The wonder of Christmas is raging in my house.  Our house is completely taken over with Christmas decorations from nativities to a real tree to an Advent wreath to a felt tree to a passed-down village to a cheesy, inflatable polar bear.   Amelia is at the age where it all feels new, magical, and marvelous.  It’s easy to see the magic when it’s reflected in her.  Ultimately, that wonder is infectious.

Through Christmas, we get to glimpse the love of God is an astounding way; through a refugee baby.  “And that is the wonder of all wonders, that God loves the lowly…God is not ashamed of the lowliness of human beings.  God marches right in.  He chooses people as his instruments and performs his wonders where one would least expect them.  God is near to lowliness; he loves the lost, the neglected, the unseemly, the excluded, the weak and broken.”  This quote from Dietrich Bonhoeffer in God is in the Manger: Reflections on Advent and Christmas, articulates another reason why Advent is so important this year.

There are so many who are justifiably afraid right now.  There are so many hurting, so many questioning, so many who have been betrayed by those they trusted.  Everyone out there needs hope, needs peace, needs joy, needs love.  We can help.  We can be safe.  We can be supportive.  We can fight to improve life, in all of its stages, for all people, even after birth. We can acknowledge and work through our prejudices.  We can live and be love, in a million different little and not-so-little ways.  After all, love really is all around.

At the very least, we could always follow in Buddy the Elf’s footsteps and spread Christmas cheer by singing loud for all to hear.  Ok, I’m off to make gingerbread houses and eat cookie dough and go ice-skating and maybe even hold hands…

WALLS

I'm a huge Kings of Leon fan!

I have all of their albums...all 7 of them. I don't own any on vinyl, and I'd like to fix that with having 'Youth and Young Manhood' on vinyl. In case you weren't aware, KoL are a band...a rock band, a big rock band, and they play great music. They released a new album entitled WALLS - more about that later.

Katy kinda likes them. Her favorite song is 'Revelry'. This week she's been referring to them as the "blue steel" of bands. For those of you unfamiliar with the complexities of Derek Zoolander, that's not really a compliment. It's her funny way of saying that she thinks all of their songs sound the same.

All 7 of KoL's album titles are made up of five syllable titles: Youth and Young Manhood, Aha Shake Heartbreak, Because of the Times, Only by the Night, Come Around Sundown, Mechanical Bull, and WALLS. So how does WALLS fit the five syllable theme? It's really an acronym for We Are Like Love Songs. I'm still unpacking the meaning behind this one...as loose as it may be.

In 2007, I saw them at the Ryman Auditorium, and it was one of the best concerts I've ever attended - thanks Beau. If I ever talk concerts or music with you, that one is sure to be discussed. They were supporting their 3rd album Because of the Times, which catapulted them to global rock star status. At that point they couldn't even sell out the 2,300+ seat venue. Black Rebel Motorcycle Club opened for them, and my ears rang for 3 days afterward.  They were doing all of this while opening for U2 on a European tour.

To me, the music is so good that I could listen to just the instrumental tracks. I think Jared (bass) and Nathan (drums) are two of the best rock musicians on planet Earth. Oh yeah...I haven't even mentioned that three of them are brothers and the lead guitarist is a cousin. The brothers grew up playing music with their father, who was a Pentecostal traveling preacher. Also, they formed in Nashville in 2000. I mean could this band appeal to me any more? They are named Kings of Leon, after their grandfather Leon.

I could go on about them for a while...so, I'll stop here. I've really enjoyed introducing them to Amelia. She doesn't listen to much rock music, but I almost feel obligated. She refers to them as Kings of Le-le. I love a lot of the tracks on the new album, but I think I like 'Waste A Moment' the most. The most repetitive line is: "Take the time to waste a moment." This resonates with me. I'm in too much of a hurry. Also, in the end, I may not be 'wasting' a moment. It may appear that way if I spend time indulging my 2 year old, chatting up a stranger, asking someone how they're doing (yes, I almost always care how you're doing), playing in the rain, going to football games, sitting outside with Katy looking at the mountains, trees, and stars.

We live in a beautiful world with beautiful people. Take the time to revel at it. Come around sundown we may have to pony up to get back down south. There will be day old blues, so take a slow night, so long. Be somebody who goes closer and makes revelry the notion to use somebody...ok...now, I'm just typing KoL song titles.

On that note...I'm on call, if you ever want to talk music.

The Envelope Please...

It happened again.  On Thursday, October 6^th, our lives changed, again.

This time, the office was nearly empty.  That, in and of itself, was the first near miracle of the day.  For my last appointment (which included all of five minutes of face time with the doctor), I waited for a solid two hours.  On this day, there was no whisper of impatience hanging in the air, no crowd of other pregnant women anxiously waiting and no reason to incessantly try to make eye contact with the receptionist in case I had been forgotten.

On this day, I was called back before I even had time to settle in or get out a book.  I am quick on the draw with a book, so that’s a win, as far as I’m concerned.  In a scheduling fluke, my doctor’s appointment was scheduled before my ultrasound.  So, in a heightened state of excitement/nervousness/fear/wonder, I laughed as the nurse took my weight and my blood pressure.  Amazingly, my blood pressure was hanging in there, as it usually is, but I did not miss the opportunity to tell the nurse that they really ought to do this after I’ve had my ultrasound. 

Once I got to the exam room, I did wait a little.  Although I barely had time to check out Prince George’s latest preschool exploits in an old edition of “People” magazine when my phone startled me with a text alert.  Adam was on his way.  His emotional state was nearly as contradictory as my own.  He managed to get from work to the doctor’s office before the doctor even entered the room.  As we waited together, we marveled at the sheer volume of diagrams and instruments scattered around the exam room.  All doctor’s offices are awkward and I will forever be thankful that some people (not me) want to be involved in that profession, however, nothing else holds a candle to that type of doctor’s office.

Again, this was a five-minute doctor’s visit.  We covered our bases, asked our questions and basically half-listened while we waited to move on to the next phase of this appointment.  Thankfully, there were no real concerns uncovered and the doctor had nothing but optimism to share.  We did hear the heartbeat and to be honest, it was nice to do that before we were mid-ultrasound.

As the doctor left, the impending news weighed heavily.  Over the last twenty weeks, I have wondered about baby #2’s gender, of course, but is has not been something I have obsessed about by any stretch.  Even in this moment, when the possibility of finding out was imminent, I found myself hardly even thinking about gender in the face of everything else that you can see during this appointment.  At a twenty-week ultrasound, you can see so much growth, so much development. 

We were ushered back to the ultrasound room.  The dim light and art on the walls was a stark contrast to the diagrams and birth control advertisements of the first exam room.  Immediately, I asked the ultrasound technician not to tell us the gender, but instead to write it down in an envelope for us to open later.  I wanted to take the pressure off of the actual appointment and save something to celebrate with Amelia.  Adam would have had her tell us in the exam room, but I held firm.  I wanted to concentrate on everything else about baby first.  One thing at a time.

The appointment progressed and baby twisted and turned, barely stopping to pose for a photo.  We watched as baby was measured and each organ was inspected as much as possible.  The measurements showed that our due date continues to be on target.  Of course it does; that’s how we roll in this world.  Baby appears to be healthy and developing as expected.  We were unbelievably thankful and I felt wave after wave of relief.  We got picture after picture, but weren’t able to get that typical profile shot that everyone wants at this ultrasound. 

We left the appointment with pictures in hand and a plain white envelope.  With that envelope burning a hole in our pocket, we left the office.  We picked up Amelia, had supper and somehow, refrained from opening it in the car.  As soon as we got home after supper, we had only one thought.  We immediately changed Amelia into her first ever “big sister” shirt.  The excitement was palpable and she could barely sit still.  The three of us piled on the couch, as Scout watched warily, and gave Amelia that plain, white envelope.  With two-year-old fingers, she tried to open it, but my fear of ripping its’ contents set it, and Adam and I soon stepped in the help.

Inside the envelope was another ultrasound picture.  This picture, like most of the others, had a few words typed on it to label and point out the focus of the picture.  This one had the words we were looking for; “I am a girl.”  A girl!  Another girl!  We quickly pulled out the “little sister” onesie that I had stashed.  I may have a “little brother” onesie that will be returned to the store soon as well.  I had to be prepared for all outcomes. 

Amelia was extremely cooperative.  She was thrilled with the words “baby sister” and repeatedly explained to us where baby’s head would go in the onesie and where her arms would come out.  We called our family to share the news and after spreading that joy, we shouted the news to the world via social media. 

Amelia will have a sister.  I am so thankful to be giving her a sister.  I am so thankful to be giving baby sister a big sister like Amelia.  White Christmas's "Sisters" has been playing in my head on repeat.  Now, it feels real.  Baby sister feels more like a real person.  Her needs feel so much more imminent.  We haven’t done anything to prepare for this baby yet and the to-do list, the to-buy list, the to-think-about lists all feel enormously long, especially to complete in the next nineteen weeks. 

All of those lists are dwarfed by the questions that I can’t wait to answer.  What will she be like?  What name will we settle on?  Will she be like Amelia?  Will they get along?  The list goes on and on. 

The pressure is also on.  This little girl deserves everything.  She deserves amazing parents, opportunities, and a world that values her for who she is and what she has to offer.  We are so excited for and about our littlest girl!  Here we go again…

Good Ole Rocky Top

If you don't want to read a blog about how great Knoxville and the University of Tennessee are, click this link. If you're ready for that or fun stories about Amelia, read on.

Today we took Amelia to her first University of Tennessee football game. It's always good to go to the General's quarters, but today was particularly special...even though it was against Ohio University. No, not The Ohio State University (whatever that means anyways!). Katy and I both love the Vols, and we were very excited to share the experience with Amelia.

I have to begin by thanking our friend, who will most likely not read this blog, but he hooked us up with tickets in the Tennessee Terrace. Think suite level seats at a first class venue. He also gave us his parking pass for the game, which meant that we didn't have to deal with walking around downtown Knoxville with a toddler. 

We arrived in time to see the Vol Walk, but I guess they decided to do it a little early. So, we then moved on to the Band March. Amelia loved this! We saw the flags off in the distance approaching the new route, which takes the Pride of the Southland across a new pedestrian bridge to salute the hill. We sing Rocky Top on a semi-regular basis in our house. So, the song is familiar to Amelia, but to experience the band playing it and tens of thousands of orange-clad friends singing along made it even better. The highlight was seeing 3 Smokies leading everyone into Neyland Stadium. I really think this blew Amelia's mind.

We walked into the stadium, and perused the concourse amazed at the amount of friends holding pom-poms. Therefore, Amelia must have one...DUH! The Tennessee Terrace is a sight to behold for any fan of the Big Orange. Everything is top notch. Our seats were 1 yard shy of the 50, but the only thing we could complain about were the heat and sun. Amelia loved marching with the band, and watching the formation of the Power T. Mostly she loved watching Smokey run around on the field. 

She may have gotten a little overheated, and had a minor meltdown in the 1st quarter, but once the shade appeared with the start of the 2nd quarter, everything got better. Everyone was a little happier, even our friends seated around us. 

At halftime, the Ohio band put on a show, but the star, of course, was the Pride of Southland's tribute to Pat Summitt. They played, and sang the Tennessee Waltz and Amazing Grace. It was beautiful.

The start of second half produced more of the same for Amelia. Celebrating touchdowns, wondering where Smokey is (maybe he's going potty?), teaching some sportsmanship when encouraging injured players as they walk off the field, letting Amelia know that it's not ok to shake your pom-pom in your neighbor's face, signing Rocky Top, learning the first down signal, etc. A fun time was had by all.

The best part is that we got to share this with our daughter. Was it hot? Yes. Did she miss a nap today for it? Yes. Was there a meltdown? Yes. Did strangers question our parenting based on a 5 second timeframe of Amelia's actions? Yes. Was it hard? Yes. Would we do it again? Unquestionably....YAAAAAASSSSS!

Also, if you clicked that link, you're welcome for learning about the Surrender Cobra!

Welcome to New York

Five years and almost two weeks ago, Adam and I got married.  We've been married longer than we were in high school, longer than we were in college, longer than the time between two Olympic games.  Half a decade.  It's one of those things that simultaneously feels like it's been forever and not long at all.  Five years does feel like an accomplishment; not everyone makes it this far and not everyone makes it this far as happily as we have.  Five years of marriage, one kid, one dog, one apartment, two houses, two jobs a piece, hundreds of typical days, and here we are, still in love, still best friends.  So, this year, for the milestone that it is, we decided to celebrate with a long weekend in New York City.  I'm sure you've already guessed that this is another sappy rather than profound post.

Anyone who knows us won't be surprised to hear that we did as much as we could in the time we had.  We also basically followed Amelia's nap schedule and relaxed in the hotel for a couple of hours each afternoon.  Anyway, here are the top ten highlights of our trip (as always, in no particular order):

1. Ellis Island - neither of us had done this before.  The museum was interesting and showed the sad parts as well as happy parts.  It was also a little frustrating to think that we feel like we can't allow in refugees now, but we were able to accept all of that immigration in a time when it was nearly impossible to vet anyone.

2. Statue of Liberty - this was part of the tour with Ellis Island.  We just walked around the island; I had forgotten that it was an actual park.

3. The Today Show - we were there on a day when most of the anchors were at the RNC, so it was different than it would be on most days; however, I hadn't ever done it before.

4. Radio City - this is an air conditioned tour and it's fun to see all of the backstage stuff.  I did feel sorry for the Rockette that had to answer all of our questions at the end of the tour though.

5. When Harry Met You've Got Mail Tour - made up and orchestrated by Adam.  Adam had researched and found some places we could see from both "When Harry Met Sally" and "You've Got Mail."  In spite of what it sounds like, we felt the least tourist-y during all of this.  We spent most of the day walking around the Upper West Side.

6. One World Trade Center/Memorial - Adam wanted to see this, but it ended up being a nice memorial.  We didn't end up going in the museum though.

7. Central Park - I had forgotten how pretty the park itself is and how big it is.  We walked a lot, saw a lot and ate at the fancy Boathouse restaurant.

8. Matilda The Musical - fun and the kids in it were so impressive.

9. Waitress The Musical - the most serious play we saw and Jessie Mueller was amazing.

10. Something Rotten - just as funny as it's supposed to be and also fun.

We may have entered the Hamilton lottery for every possible show when we were in town and lost every time.  Even so, we loved the musicals we did get to see; we couldn't have asked for more variety.

This was the perfect way to celebrate five years.  Not only did we get to see musicals, visit museums, see sites, use public transportation, and be in a city with restaurants and stores, but we were together. Like I said, Adam and I are still best friends, we're still in love and I am so thankful for the marriage we have built so far, as well as the marriage that is to come.  Who knows what's coming next?  It won't be easy, the last five years haven't been easy, but they have been life.  Most importantly, and at the risk of making a cheesy joke, they have been life together.  Here's to the next five years and here's to us!

This Wild Life

When you tell other adults that you spent a week of your summer chaperoning a youth trip, you get a mixed bag of reactions, ranging from an exclamation about my level of bravery, to lamenting over my “misfortune,” to questions about how we got through the trip.  For me, it’s genuinely fun.  It isn’t a hardship to me; it’s something I got to do. 

Last week, I chaperoned the youth trip to Passport Choices in Greensboro.  I’m definitely no stranger to Passport or to youth trips in general.  I am, however, a stranger to going on a week long youth trip as a 32-year-old with a toddler at home, who kept telling her daddy that she felt mad because “mommy left.”  Two-year-old guilt trips aside, both Amelia and Adam handled the week wonderfully and I am so grateful to a husband who is a wonderful, capable father.  I won’t insult him by implying that it’s more impressive for him to keep her alone for a week, just because he’s her father rather than her mother, but I am grateful to him as a co-parent, a husband, a friend and a support.

Anyway, it has been a decade since I chaperoned a trip to Passport.  My Passport story is long and probably more than you want to hear right now.  So for now, suffice it to say that I’ve been on the other side of things, in many ways, and honestly, it was tough to turn off the skills that have become more familiar in that setting.  For that week, I did my best to just be a chaperone, to concentrate on our youth, to be low-key, to enjoy.  

The week itself was a good week.  I am grateful to Passport, as I always am, for their commitment to reaching youth.  They are able to have experiences that remind them that they are precious for who they are, as they are, both to us and to God.  Passport provides a setting in which youth are not emotionally manipulated, language is intentional, and they are able to experience new things and meet new people.  This is not the case with all Christian youth camps.

This particular week, the youth I chaperoned all bought in and all had a wonderful time, even the ones that were hesitant about going to begin with.  Because we went to Passport’s Choices camp, some of them visited an international supermarket and a mosque, some learned how to sumo wrestle, some wrote a song, some made art, some found a place on stage, some learned how to check oil, some learned that people with disabilities can still be great dancers and all of them played games, sang songs, prayed, shared with each other and lived together for a week.  Everything came together to help them answer the question; “what will you do with your one wild and precious life?”

I could give you the details of how camp happens; I could tell you the small complaints that happen during a week of living on top of each other.  I could also go on and on about why I love camp and Passport specifically, but for now, I’m going to leave it at that. I hope that you’ll take the time to hear stories from youth you know who had experiences like this.  I hope that you’ll think about what it meant to you, if you were lucky enough to have a similar experience.  And, I hope that my Passport life isn’t over yet; it may look a little different, but it isn’t over.  I am grateful for that. 

Amelia Turns 2!

As June 5, 2016 neared, I went back on my assertion that we weren’t going to throw a second birthday party for Amelia.  I did my best to go for a more simplistic party, but it did end up being bigger than I anticipated.

This year, Amelia’s birthday was on a Sunday, so the celebration began before her actual birthday.  We had time with each set of grandparents and a mini-celebration at her daycare.   The joys of being an only child and the only grandchild on both sides continue. 

On the day before her birthday, we did have a party for her.  We celebrated at the church again, this time on the playground and we invited more friends this time around.  Amelia and her friends played on the playground and as two year olds seem to do, they alternated between hugging each other and screaming at one another.  The ups and downs of toddlerhood seem more intense than those of teenager-hood.  We ate purple, green and blue cupcakes, opened presents, sang happy birthday, tossed beach balls and saw family and friends who are so important to Amelia and to us. 

While it sounds like a typical birthday party, to me it was epic.  My Amelia is two years old.  We are so grateful to have been able to celebrate her in this way.  We are so grateful to all of our friends and to Amelia’s friends who chose to spend their time celebrating with us.  We’re also grateful that they ate cupcakes.  We’re grateful to our families who came to celebrate and to those who weren’t able to make it.  We are grateful for your support, your patience, your laughter and most of all, for your love for our little girl. 

Right now, I won’t even pretend to say that we won’t celebrate somehow next year.  A month after her party, all of the worries about it have disappeared and been fully replaced with the memories of her smiles, her “thank you”s, her play, and her joyfulness.  That’s more than enough. 

It’s been over a month since her birthday and we still include, at Amelia’s insistence, her “birthday last week” in nightly prayers.  More than anything else I’ve said, I’m grateful for my Amelia.  She has become a precocious, loving, friendly, talkative, curious, and amazing toddler.  I am so grateful to have been able to celebrate her and I’m counting the days until our next celebration-worthy milestone, whatever that turns out to be.