Movin'

Alright guys. 

I itching for a change. 

I'm always looking for something different and I've found it to keep me satisfied for the time being. 

I'm moving over to a different blog. Starting crispy new. 

E Tells Tales is the bigger and better. I just need a change of scenery. 

I hope you continue to follow along. Change your bookmarks, follow by email. Please do. 

I hope you all had a very Merry Christmas!

Photographs of the lost

I never thought I'd write about this, because to be honest, I have been avoiding the news and Facebook and Pinterest pictures at all cost. But I think I need to get some things out of me. 

I know what happened at Sandy Hook Elementary School. I've seen each of their faces. I've cried. Ever since I had Jack, I've been able to cry at the drop of a hat. I don't know, like my chemical balance tipped a little. This tragedy is not a drop of a hat situation, this is something unspeakable. But it has been shocking to me as to how I have reacted to the children's and teacher's deaths. 

The process of grief after my dad died was and is an interesting walk. You never know the things that will set you off or make you happy or make you feel like dirt with sadness. I get this sharp and pointed pang when I unexpectedly see a photo of him. Still to this day. I love my dad to the ends of the world and I think about him all the time but those photos… they just hurt me. They remind me too well of what I don't have. 

And I felt that way the first time I saw the faces of those babies. They are just too sweet and too happy to be gone. 

I think about their parents. I imagine what their homes look like now and how they are dealing with their own sadness as well as that of their other children who just lost a brother or sister and might not quite understand what is happening. 

I see the grandparents there, trying to help and keep order and comfort their children and children's children and themselves all at once. 

There is something about the picture of someone who has died. It changes. It yellows a little, it means a little more. 

That picture is eternalized. The person in it will be the same forever in our minds, never growing older. My dad will always be 54. He will never turn grey. Rachel Scott of Columbine will always be the same. These children will remain kindergarteners. 

My prayer for the families and friends of the teachers and children of Sandy Hook, and to everyone who looses or lost, is that they find their own way to grieve. It might not be what you expected. You might be more sad than you thought you would be. You might not be as sad as you assumed. It's ok. Grieve in the way you need to in order to remember and find a way to live beyond the sadness. 

I pray that they are not bitter at the situation - at the shooter, at God, at the school, at the community, at the NRA, at the government, and especially at themselves. Being bitter and placing blame does nothing. 

I pray that they can be sad together and mourn the loss of those they love. And find the happiest memories and hold on to them for dear life. 

It's never going to get easier. But our minds are so wonderfully perceptive, dulling pain over time so getting up in the morning is manageable. It will all be ok, even if we cannot imagine the day that it will. 

I will love you for being just a man

Lovin' me some Rachael Yamagata today. 

And this song, "I Don't Want To Be Your Mother"

I want to be your sweetheart
I want to be your lady
Oh, I want to get swept away
Let me cry for a change

Don't need no lone survivor
I need someone by my side
We don't have to make it perfect
Oh, but maybe we could try

Love me for the woman that I am
And I will love you for being just a man
Love me for the woman that I am
And I will love you for being my man

Christmas babe

It's been looking like Christmas around here for a while. It's pretty chilly outside. The trail to the dog is pure ice. The space heaters are going. The decorations are up. The stockings have been pulled down. A few times. 

But today my baby is feeling the spirit. 

We have been reading Christmas stories and it is just so wonderful to have a child during the holidays. It is just a complete different outlook and feeling for me. I feel so much like my own mom. It's my turn to be Santa. 

And the other night this little bug woke up at 10 p.m., so we snuggled up on the couch and looked at the Christmas lights until we both fell asleep. 

The memory of the just are blessed

(A column by Erica Kingston published in the Tri-County News.)

[November 18, 2012]

I wrote last about our family time capsule. It has since been opened, dug through, seen and shared. 

All these years I had been excited to see what I put in the capsule when I was four. I knew my parents had put in a cattle sales agreement and a publication of some sort. My contribution ended up being a candle holder and a quote carved in clay that was obvious someone else had written for me. Disappointing. 

Others had put Sears catalogs, newspapers from the towns they had been living in. There were baby shoes and photos. Typical things. 

But then there were two letters sealed in Ziploc bags. One with "Lindsay" on the front of a plain white mailer envelope and one with "Erica," written in dad's handwriting. 

My letter was a single page, front and back. I sat there and read it at the kitchen table with tears and a heart full of thanks for this gift my dad had decided to give us 20 years earlier, not knowing where we or him would be in that future that had just become the present hour. 

I cannot tell you how I felt reading a letter from a man that has been gone for three years.  Or now seeing his handwriting was so warningly familiar. The letter is invaluable and irreplaceable and on the top of the list of things I would quickly grab if my house started on fire. It is a gift that cost no money and five minutes to complete but it tugs at my heartstrings like nothing else has. 

I've been writing things down for my son Jack since he was born. Jotting, really. I have Post-Its and napkins of scribbled stories and "firsts" with their appropriate dates. I began a notebook for him with moments that made me feel full of love as well as difficulties he has made me face and "man times" that Jack and his dad have spent together. 

But I haven't written in the book for a few months. It just gets pushed to the bottom of the daily list, after dishes and laundry and trips to the grocery store. It's something that I keep telling myself I'll have time for later. It's not going anywhere, I can write anytime I want. 

But the truth is that memories are fleeting. Our minds so graciously forget and the vividness of the moment gets hazier with each day. What I could have written in great detail today will be a generalized anecdote in a week. 

I need to make the time. 

If God decides to take me while Jack still needs a mama, I want my baby to have those notebooks full of our stories. If I live to be 105, maybe my son can read those pages to my great grandchildren. And maybe what I write will simply give me something to read and remember when I'm sitting in the nursing home. 

Whatever the case may be, recording our history is vital to me. The dishes can wait, the dust can stay a day longer and the laundry can pile a little higher. I need to remember what is important. 

"Find the time. The time to read, to smell the flowers, to paint your dreams, to have coffee with a friend, to learn a new craft, to write a letter, to bake a surprise cake, to go somewhere special, to really be with the person you love, or even to do nothing for a while…"

And unsubscribe to Netflix for a while, put the computer away, shut the phone off, unplug the TV, take a day off. 

I'm not saying that I think everyone and their uncle should write pages and pages and record every little thing. I'm just saying to put a photo album together or make a phone call or spend a few more minutes at the dinner table. 

Because we don't have all the time in the world. It's so easy to get caught up. I've said this a million times over. It's so easy to get into a routine and slide through every day. But when you think back, you don't remember the days that you simply survived, you remember the ones that were an adventure, the ones that were challenging and the ones you really lived. 

"The memory of the just is blessed." Proverbs 10:7a

Her wishes for her family

I've been writing a column for my hometown newspaper, The Tri-County News, for a few years now. I took time off after having Jack and am just getting back to it. I grew up in Gackle, a town of 500 people. Everyone knows who I am, who my family is, who my grandparents are. It's a strange blessing to be able to share the deepest parts of my heart with all of them. These writings are some of my favorite ones of mine. From now on, I'll be sharing them on my blog after they have been published in the paper. I have a few backlogged that I would like to share, so there will be a few postings now, and then they will be approximately ever two weeks. Please enjoy.

[October 5, 2012]

Our family just came back from about three weeks in Gackle. God's country, yes. 

Scott's two weeks off of work in October always equals some quality time between him and his pheasant dog. And this year, it also meant farm time for our son, Jack, and I. It's good for the soul to go back to the place where you grew up. And it was good for me to use grandma for as much free babysitting as I could squeeze out of her. 

Jack played with the kitties, met the horses, played in his first snow and became reacquainted with aunts and uncles and cousins that we don't get to see everyday. And great grandma Betty, whom he has always seemed to love a little more than the others. She's got the touch. 

The Anderson family buried a time capsule on our farm in 1993 at a North Dakota BASH (Big Anderson Summer Holiday.) It was supposed to remain in the ground until November of next year, but we decided to dig it up a year early. 

It was snowing, but my uncles dug, we watched, the kids sat in the wheel barrel.

We hit something. I found a corner. Dig back a little further. It was pulled out of a 19 year slumber. 

Turns out the Rubbermaid Roughneck tub is a sturdy product. No gopher holes, no tree root punctures. Just a little squishage from the burden of dirt. 

The top was opened and inside was the actual time capsule, wrapped in plastic. But what was inside took the back burner for me to what was on the inside cover. 

My grandma had typed a note for the future generations. My uncle Carlton read it for us:

"This capsule was buried in the fall of 1993 and is to be dug-up in the year 2013. The Anderson capsule contains precious memories of the Jalmer Anderson family. It is my wish and prayer that when the family gathers to open this capsule that all of you will be trusting and living for the Lord as your Savior." 

As he read that, I first thought that the ending would simply say that she hoped we would be living. All being present for the opening, fortunate to still be around. 

But she wished for us, her family, to simply and essentially be trusting the Lord. 

When we are in situations where we think of the future, say a wedding or a graduation, we usually go straight for earthly wishes. I hope your marriage is blessed. I wish you all the happiness in the world. I hope you are successful in your endeavors.

She wished for us to be trusting the Lord. Nothing more, nothing less. 

It's a legacy for our family. We won't inherit money or land or castles far away. As my great grandparents handed to my grandparents who then instilled in our parents, they gave us every chance to have the opportunity to gain a heavenly inheritance. As my cousin said, "I am so thankful for a faithful, godly heritage."

We are here on borrowed time. This is our temporary home.

And so what will I leave for those who come after me? Where will my treasure be stored? How am I forming my legacy from day to day? It's a conscious decision. The road is narrow and difficult. And no one gets it all right. But our Lord is a merciful God. 

Lord, you alone are my inheritance, my cup of blessing. Psalm 16:5a

Thanksgiving for 3+

Thanksgiving 2012 for the Kingstons was spent in Williston. Scott's company, Vision Oil Tools, puts together a company dinner and my lovely husband volunteered me to help cook and get everything ready. 

Which actually turned out to be quite nice. 

Jack and I went to staff house five - an old church renovated into a very large house. It's beautiful. So we baked pies and cut up potatoes Wednesday night.

Thursday Jack and I went back to the house and helped get the rest of the fixin's ready. We served 60+ people that day. 

Sometimes its hard for me to be away from the family I grew up with. I missed Thanksgiving at my aunt Sheila's house and the company that comes with that. I missed going to my brother's place and I missed seeing my grandparents. 

This Thanksgiving I was thankful for knowing and experiencing that family extends farther than our blood ties. I am grateful for sweet, caring people who are ever-welcoming of Jack and I. And that no matter where we were in the world, I got to spend that day loving on and showing off my sweet boy and then snuggling with my husband. 

I am blessed beyond measure and am so grateful for where we are and everything we have been given. 

Jack LOVED this little four year old. Brody was showing Jack one of his toys. Jack would watch his every move. 

A lot of the guys who had to work Thanksgiving were away from their families. Both of these have little ones of their own at home and were suficing their kid need by playing with Jack. This is my favorite picture of the day :)

My little gremlin decided he would take this day and start crawling up on things. 

And then we tried to take a nap.
It didn't work out too well. 

Seven months of Jack

.... was a week ago. Oops. Better late than never.

So much has happened this month. I do believe this will be the month of your life that you hit the most milestones and grew up the most. You are so heavy. It's hard for me to pick you out of bed and cary you for any length of time (plus, I get super sweaty lugging your little heater body around.) I love you at this age so, so much. You have a little personality, yet I can distract you with ANYTHING. Like a roll of toilet paper or my nose. You have a little attitude already, screaming when I take something away from you that you're not supposed to have. Discipline has started. But it's hard to spank those little hands for grabbing at a cord when you're looking at me and smiling. It's going to break your mama's heart, but I want you to grow up to be a respectable young man. Please just mind your mama, little baby. We love you so much.

Weight 

Y0u're a whopping 23.5 pounds! (I said last month you were 24, but you must have been 21-22 then.)

Diapers 

Still a size 3. Slimming out a bit perhaps. 

Hair

Your hair has grown so much this past month! It's a light brown and so fuzzy. I like to spike it up after your bath or swipe it to the side for a more dignified look :) I can't wait until you have a full head of wonderful locks. 

Clothes

I've packed your six month clothes away... and most of the nine months, besides a few pants. You're wearing 12 months in most things now. 

This months firsts

>You started sitting by yourself early this month! This has been the greatest thing for me. It's so much easier to set you down now. 

>You now have four teeth! Two bottom and half of the two top ones. I believe you're getting more, you've been having some sleeping problems lately. 

>First ear infection. It's so sad to see you grabbing and pulling at your ear. We've been to the walk-in clinic in Williston twice now. You've had the infection for two weeks now. I hope you get better soon. 

>I'm not sure if you're ever going to crawl in the traditional sense. But you're a belly crawling machine!!! You can get anywhere your little heart pleases. 

>We celebrated your first Thanksgiving here in Williston at staff house five, helping cook for 60 + Vision employees and oil workers. It's good for your mama to find a sense of community and family here. 

You like

>Opening and closing cabinets and drawers. 

>The vacuum. Who needs a dog when your baby chases the vacuum?!

>Banging things. Your hand on the floor or table, your mini pumpkin on the floor, your feet on the counter. You love noise. 

>When daddy comes home. I swear he brings home this hyper energy for you every night. You just love your papa. He's the only person you'll sit and snuggle nicely with on the couch. 

You don't like

>The same thing for too long. Short attention span. 

Mom loves

>When you flash your beautiful smile at me. Your whole face lights up and it just brightens my day. 

>Snuggling with you and you run your hands all along my hands and arm and face. You have the sweetest, softest touch. 

>That you're a content, happy baby. I hope our home is always filled with love and closeness so that you can feel like you can remain this way. 

Dad loves

>When you rub your eyes when you're tired. 

>When you crawl on him like he's your own personal jungle gym. 

Sometimes I get a glimpse of you and think I can see what you'll look like when your older. Then my minds rolls and I think of what kind of a boy you'll be and what sports you will like, if you will be creative like your mama or rough and tough like your papa. I like to think that between your dad and I, we have it all covered - sensitive to realistic, left brained and right brained, tall and short. I pray that you will be well balanced. I pray that we will raise you in a way that is good and pleasing to the Lord and that you fear Him. I pray that you find your own way to show love and be loved. I pray that we, as parents, will see you for who you are instead of who we want you to be. I ask for strength to be hard and soft at the same time so that I am able to discipline you and show you love all at once. I am so blessed to have you as my baby. You really are the joy of my life. Daddy and I love you. 

Half a year of Jack

Weight 

I really don't know. 24? We'll find out next week at your 6 month appointment. 

Diapers 

Size 3. Still. Yaaah!

Hair

You're getting more and more hair all the time. 

Clothes

Six month clothes are pretty tight on you and I've started packing them away. Anywhere from 9-18 months fits you. 

This months firsts

>The biggest thing is that you've started to eat people food! And I just love feeding it to you and making it for you. So far you've downed green beans, apples, bananas, sweet potatoes, squash, pears, oatmeal, rice and mixed oats. In the coming weeks I plan on giving you pumpkin, peaches and carrots. 

>You're a rolling machine. Still. You roll all around the room since you're not crawling yet. You can push straight with your hands and pull those leggies under you but not at the same time. So you pull yourself around on your hands and you get surprisingly far. 

>We did our first "kid" themed outing! You, aunty Linds and grammy Shelly went to the pumpkin patch in Bismarck. I loved it :) Hope you did too. 

>Two little teeth poped up at the beginning of your 5th month! So now your smile melts mama's heart even more. And your bite hurts like a son of a gun. And we've added brushing our teeth to our nightly routine. 

>First cold. Not fun, but not too terrible either. 

You like

>Your mama. I'm definitely your favorite thing and person. And I'm soaking this all in because I know soon daddy will be more interesting than mama. 

>The rattling frog. I can shake him when you're screaming your head off and you'll stop and giggle at him. 

>Going for runs in the stroller with mama. 

>Daddy time in the evenings. 

You don't like

>New people :( I wish you loved everyone but I suppose that since it's me and you all the time, it's weird to be around new faces. 

>Apples. But we're working on that. 

Mom loves

>The stage you're in right now. You're so funny and expressive, I just love it. I love that I can make you laugh and that you are always content being by me. I'm so proud of you for so many reasons. As I tell you all the time, you're mama's favorite baby. 

Dad loves

>You. He thinks you're the cat's meow. 

>Showing you off. He's one proud papa. He takes you into all the offices at work and shows them all the pictures of you that I send him throughout the day. 

We forgot Mr. Puppy Dog at home, so raccoon had to do. Recognize him? He's my stuffed animal and is the raccoon from Pocahontas.  

At Papa's Pumpkin Patch.

Being a turd during a stroller ride. Mama spoils you.

You're first hunting picture! Pheasant season has arrived. 

 Mama and Jack stripes. 

And then I realized...

That you won't be a baby much longer. 

Little blue knit hats will become much too small and we will pack them away like we do. Your pudgy  nose and lips and cheeks and forehead will smooth out and firm up to resemble a young man. And you just might stop flashing me that smile that says, "Mama, you're the best thing in the whole world," and start pushing my kisses away. 

I love you as a baby. The way you go to snarf your hand or dive bomb my shoulder with your mouth wide open when I say, "Mama's going to eat you!" When your lips fall slightly open when you fall asleep with your bottle. Your squeaks and sharp inhales and screeches and shaking fists when you hear the bath tub filling up. And I'm going to miss all of this as you grow. 

But I know I'll love you as a little boy, as well. And as a teenager and as a grown man. I can't wait to talk with you and help you with homework. I can't wait to see all the things your daddy can't wait to teach you. 

And I'm going to kiss you, baby. You won't ever out grow those smooches. I'm going to give you mama kisses as long as I'm on this earth. And there's nothing you can do about it. So you might as well get used to them now.

xoxo, 

mama

So, we moved.

To a different house.

Directly to the north and exactly one house up the street.

In Williston.

Since we are here about more than we are at home (although they are only three hours away from each other), this town and the people of Scott's company have become important to me and to how I view home and our family. I grew up on a farm in rural Gackle, which is rural to Jamestown which is rural compared to Fargo, N.D. My parents and sister and I were home every night. My dad made sure he was never away so he could be with us. We played baseball on our golf course-like lawn my mom mowed pristinely.That place was my home.  My family now has a different dynamic.

I don't know if it is better or worse, but there is no time to think about that. I've had to learn what they meant by "Home is where the heart is." It's who we are and we are together.

And that is the big thing. We are together. We are able to be together even while husband and daddy are working in the oil field.... Not something I take for granted. A lot of guys are living in campers, man camps or our on location where their companies don't allow families to accompany them. Since Scott works 30 days straight and then has two weeks off, it would be a big deal if we couldn't be with him for that long.

But anyway, we moved. Vision Oil Tools has 5 staff houses. Nice accommodations. Very nice considering the town and environment. We were in staff house two - an old home renovated to make more rooms for more people. We had a very nice place. It was basically like a hotel room. The bathroom was nicer than ours at home. But when Scott would work nights, Jack and I would have to busy ourselves with something outside our room. There was a common kitchen and living room, but when shared with dirty oil guys, it got dirty. And not having my own kitchen was annoying. It is something that is livable and not a big deal in hindsight, but just something that always annoyed me. Don't get me wrong, those southern guys can cook like a son of a gun and always offered it to us, but they were men. Who left things messier than I would like.

Then Scott took a management position with the company. I am one proud wife, by the way. He amazes me how he can be good at simply everything. But his boss, who is a graciously generous man, offered us him and his wife's old apartment when the company was just starting out. It has a big living room, office area, bedroom, kitchen (!) and a huuuuuge bathroom. With the biggest tub you've ever seen. Yesterday we moved in.

First breakfast in our new place. Relax, he was not left unattended in his Bumbo death seat. 

But the thing about this house... it is, or was, a bit out of town when it was developed. We are down this u-shaped dirt road and apparently this area was occupied by some kind of cult-like group of people. Mexicans mainly, if I have understood right. I'm not sure what they did or whatnot but they liked to keep to themselves. So our house is highly influenced with Spanish accents. The woodwork is chunky and dark. But where it shows the most is our apartment. The walls in the living room have a mural painted on them. I guess painted isn't the right term... the walls are sculpted.

This is one picture of a corner of the living room (that was turned into a bedroom, but we are making a living room again). The house and hill it is on and the palm trees are raised out from the wall. There are steps and bushes that are touchable... It is the strangest thing you have ever seen. In some weird way, though, I love it. 

And this is our ridiculous tub!

But yesterday I packed up all of our things (we don't have to ove the big furniture because the company buys all of that) and moved them to our new apartment with help from some of the guys who were around. I cleaned my butt off last night and will continue again. Just so I am comfortable where I'm living. And so I know how clean the floors are. Our family dirt is one thing, but other people's dirt gives me the heeby geebies. 

So far, I've made the kitchen my own and am so in love with this place. It feels like our own home. Scott will most likely be working over the holidays, so I'm happy to have a nice place to ourselves where I can cook and bake and put up decorations. Perhaps I'll do what my friend said and have a Mexican-themed Christamas. Feliz Navidad!

Five months of Jack

Well, little boy, you're almost a half of a year old. As cliche as this is, it seems that you've been attached to my hip and coming grocery shopping with me forever and yet for such a short time. You have made me want to pull my hair out, yes. But I feel like the lucky girl in high school who gets to hang out with the cutest boy in town. I never shy away from the oohs and awws that you get. I just soak them in and think, "Yes, I DO have the most handsome little man, thank you." I love you.

Weight 
I'm thinking about 22 pounds. Give or take.

Diapers 
Size 3

Hair
Little boy hairs all over. I love to spike your hair up. Can't wait until more comes in. 

Clothes
Pretty much anything 6 months +. Today I bought you a 12-18 month winter jacket and it was too small...

This months firsts
>You found your feet earlier thing month. First the right foot, then a week later the left. Now you're eating them. Daddy bet me that you would never get your foot in your mouth because of your tubby belly. You showed him. 

>You're a rolling machine. 

>Laying down is for the birds. You want to sit up all the time, but are too wobbly yet. I think it's a ply for you to get your mama to hang out with you on the floor all day. 

>One tiny top of a little tooth is popping out. And boy, is it making you angry and oh so crabby. 

>Eating! You tolerate rice and oatmeal cereal.

You are also sleeping through the night like a stinkin' champ. You wake up in the middle of the night usually, but after a few weeks of getting up to get you a bottle, I realized that you will fall asleep on your own. So I just leave you be and you fall back asleep. You've been going to bed around 8:30-9:30 p.m. and sleeping until 6:30 a.m. Your dad and I really appreciate this :)

You like
>Your mama. You eye me the whole time someone else has you. 

>Watching the sprinklers or the news with your daddy in the mornings. You love your daddy so much. 

>Your little elephant that sings to you. You get the biggest smile when I pull the string. 

You don't like
>Being on your tummy too long.
>The fact that you can't MOVE. You pull your legs up under your butt and try so, so hard but those darn arms just don't know their job  yet. 

Mom loves
>When you and daddy were waiting for me in the driveway after my run the other day. The. Best. 

>When you sit on the counter and help me cook by holding the bag of cheese :)
>When you giggle and then breathe in and squeak.

Dad loves>Mornings with you. 
>Holding you like an airplane.
>Giving you "Shack kisses."

Yoga, again

So I haven't done yoga in, umm, 12 months. From the time I found out I was pregnant and was too sleepy to do anything but eat apparently.

Tonight was the first night back in and, boy, did it feel good.

What I love about it:
-relaxation
-STRETCHING (I love, love, love it)
-flexibility (or the flexibility I hope to regain)
-mindfulness, of my body and what I put into it and my sleep and just the core of me as a human (that sounds so cheesy but it's so true)
-it's not running (I hate running, I've tried to love it, I just can't)

I hope I can continue with this. Tonight I did an evening practice from yogaflo.com. I've been so, so tired lately that my face just hurts. Now, my face hurts a little less.

I wasn't too sure how it was all going to work with baby Jack here and all the attention he thinks he needs, but he did really well while I practiced. I think he was mostly wondering what in the world his mama was doing and why she was moving all strange-like.

It's been 15 minutes and I can still feel it on me. I kind of want to do another 30 minutes. Just the fact that I got up and DID something makes me feel good. I've been so stinking terrible lately. I owe it to Jack and Scott to be healthy and look and feel my best and have energy for them, but mostly I owe it to myself. I'm me again (with a "mama" added to my title) after lending my body to my baby. I love yoga, and I need to remember to do the things I love too.

Here's a little picture to make this post adorable:

Three & four months of Jack

Weight 
19 lbs 10 oz. Back on the charts! (Before we were over the 100 percentile. Now we are about 90-93%)

Diapers 
Size 3

Hair
Your little boy hairs are coming in! Some of the hair on top is an inch or so long. You have one hair that is about three inches long, though! It's really funny. But there are all of these short spikey hairs coming in and they are soooooo cute :) Your old man hair is slowly going away and the bald spot on the back is disappearing. 

Clothes
Officially out of 0-3 months. Anything from 3-9 months fit right now. And you're in 12 month for the snug-fit boy jammies that are so darn adorable. The glow-in-the-dark dinosaur ones are my favorite. You look so handsome in green. I'm searching all the internet for the perfect winter hat. I think I've found it on Etsy. I'm so excited for fall and to dress you in warm clothes and boots :)  

This months firsts
>You're talking up a storm! It's the sweetest thing and you are so darn SERIOUS about it.
>Eating your hands. Sometimes you gag on them, you have them in there so far. Oh, and daddy taught you to suck your thumb. You're good at it 
>You rolled over!! Just a few times from your tummy to your back, but you did it!
>We took your first trip to Wisconsin to see grandpa and grandma.
>You smile and giggle all the time! It makes me so happy. Sometimes you laugh and I think you dont know what's happening because you squeak and catch your breath :)
>Oh, and this. So you think you're funny sometimes when you decide to pee with your diaper off and shoot mama. Well, the other day you peed and you shot it straight up and it got you all over! Not so funny when you're on the receiving end, huh? :)

You like
Riding around and being with mama. You are in the kitchen cooking with me, watching me get ready in the morning and helping me fold laundry. 
Being bombed into pillows by daddy. 
Looking at yourself in the mirror.  :)
Tickles.
Taking baths. 
Playing on your tummy. 

You don't like
Playing too long on your play mat. You get SO frustrated with that thing. 
Being ignored. 

Mom loves
When someone else has you and you just keep your eye on me, giving me this sly little smile. I'm so glad you know and recognize me. It's such a wonderful feeling. 
When you burry your face in my neck. 
Morning smiles. You are so happy in the mornings. Basically anytime you smile or laugh at me. 
Watching you and dad play. 
When all three of us crawl back into bed in the morning. Nothing sweeter.

Dad loves
When you rub your eyes when your sleepy. 
Wrestling around with you. 

We had a poopy diaper incident so these are the best we could do :)

I am reminded every morning that you're growing up when you're heavier and heavier to lift out of your bed. Although I miss you as a tiny baby I love ev est adventure yet. We love you, Mama and Daddy bes

Wednesday nights

I learned a lot about myself on those Wednesday nights. 

We didn't realize then, and I may not even fully now, but our friendship is not common. I'm not sure if the average human even knows themselves as well as we did at the age of 16. 

See, Wednesday meant youth group. It meant a 50 mile drive to Jamestown and back. It meant learning about Jesus together. And then staying up all night talking about us and them and who we dreamed we hoped we would become. 

And by them, I mean them. The boys who taught us what our hearts could feel. The bad boys who were bad for us and so we felt even more. 

Each of us had one. They were older, they were taboo. They were slightly unattainable and we were okay with that. I'm not sure a girl's heart really recovers from what those kinds of boys can do to them.

Nothing ever really happened with either of us or either of them. We barely talked outside of MSN Messenger and a few hand folded notes. But at the time it was life itself, and rightly so. It was the biggest thing that had ever happened to us. We didn't know what those feelings meant. And we went through it all together. 

Those Wednesday nights we dove in and shared and explored the depths of who we were and what was going on with us. The process of growing up and surviving being a teenager, we figured it out together. We cried and laughed and dug into learning about love at a young age. 

I learned who I was with her. 

We grew up and our situations didn't line up like they used to. And now we are in very different places. I've chosen my path and she is at a beginning of a million different ones that are begging her to choose. 

You know who you are. You couldn't be anyone else. 

Even though we don't have Wednesdays anymore, we've got a lifetime of Tuesdays and Fridays left. I want to live through you the life you're embarking on. We will probably never be in the exact same place again. And all of this sounds just as silly and true as it did back then. But I'm connected to you like no one else. No one knows me in the same way you do. And those nights will forever string us together and you're stuck with me. Not everyone gets a friend like you. I'm so excited to see where you're going and who you will become. Remember, it was either the farm or something besides the farm. And we'd always wonder what the other would be like, but the one we chose would be satisfactory and good and better than okay. Remember that? 

We just need to remember to bring each other along. What we started back then is just the beginning. 

Love you, friend.