Lunch love.

Sometimes there are things that happen that are so Mom-errific that all you can do is beam with pride and chuckle. And also blog about it.

I put my first love note in Alex's lunch box last week, smiling ever-so-smugly to myself as I thought "I am SO nailing this Mom thing." *high five self* You know, because he's been in school nearly two months and I'm just now putting a note in his lunch. In my defense, he eats hot lunch every day--so technically it was the FIRST time I packed his lunch. Winning.

When we got home that day, we started our daily ritual of going through his folder to talk about his day, what he learned, and look at all his papers. Then, with an ear-to-ear smile he said, "Mom! I got your love note and it made me so happy. I even wrote you back!"

He pulled the note out of his folder and unfolded it carefully--with such pride in his work--and handed it to me as if was the most precious gift in the world. And to be honest, it was.

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This was my original note.

He wrote "Alex" on the top

and "Dad" by the heart.

This is the rest of his reply on the back of my note.

It's hard to see it all, because he wrote in pencil and my marker bled through the backside of the paper, but at the top he wrote "Deeaal" which is such a hilarious capture of his personality right now. EVERYTHING is dealmaking with him. Sometimes he doesn't quite get what a "deal" is and will use his mad negotiating skills to get to bed 5 minutes earlier...and he thinks he "won." It's so funny.

My heart parts were ALL OVER as he shared with me what and how he wrote me back. You can see he also wrote "Alex," "Dad," "Mom," and drew a heart and a smiley face just like I did in my note.

What a Mommy milestone. I got my first love note from my boy and I'm so proud. Saving it foreverandeverandever, then end.

Harper and the Hippo.

WUT?! 12 months!?!?

Real talk: I've been in denial about it. All of these "firsts" with Harper are also "lasts" for me as a Mom, so that's been super mega weird to deal with. But we're not here for my therapy session, are we? We're here for this little lady:

Oh my. I know for 12 months all we've talked about is how happy she is - and I must repeat myself for the 12th glorious time: she's just filled to the brim with joy. That's not to say she doesn't have her own, very strong personality--because she does. This girl is fierce, she is strong, she is dramatic and she is determined. But she wears the cape and crown well and uses her powers mostly for good.

But to use an Alex-ism, there are times when she's "just not that into it." Exhibit A:

Patience is not her virtue.

In terms of other milestones, she has taken a few steps here and there, but we have yet to capture any of them on camera. Secretly I think she's waiting for a full-on YouYube contract and her 10% off the top. She's still rocking her two bottom teeth with no others in sight but will eat anything you put in front of her with reckless abandon. Current favorites are green grapes, blueberries, cheese and avocado.

Happy birthday my sweet, baby girl. The day you were born is the day our family became complete. Your Daddy, Alex and I love you a million billion and back again. You are my heart, and I am yours. xo.

A Halloween preview.

One of our most fun family traditions is going to the Detroit Zoo Boo. We've gone every year with my parents since Alex was born with the exception of last year--because, you know, I was in the hospital doing some other things--but Alex and Samuel still went with Grammi & Poppi.

This year was another great memory maker. We had fabulous weather and I must say, my ladybug and train engineer were two of the cutest trick-or-treaters around!

Today.

Today I am sad. I am angry. I am confused. I am heartbroken.

Last night, we learned that the baby brother of Alex's best friend at school died over the weekend. It was a SIDS-related tragedy that has left an entire family heartbroken.

Listen, I know there's a lot wrong with this world, and so much of the "big" stuff has our attention right now. And usually I'm here to write about the funny and the crazy and bring a little levity to the world. But this? This won't make the news. This won't be in the paper.

But it is here. Here for you to read about and here for you to pray over. Please pray for this mother, this father, this brother--that they may feel the peace and grace of Jesus in this time of unfathomable despair and anger.

Bless you, baby Jack. You were the sweetest little red headed bundle of joy and I will pray for your Mommy, Daddy, and brother every day. Amen.

That one time I ran and wasn't being chased by a bear.

I have this friend. Her name is Keliann and she tricks me into agreeing to do things that I would otherwise probably not do. Like running. She has big boobs and I think she uses them to hypnotize me, but whatever.

Keliann convinced me that a 5K on my resume would be a good thing. "You'll be so proud of yourself!" she swore to me. And to make her argument more compelling, she insisted that it should be a Color Run. Because, you know, they're fun.

And so, during the wee hours of this most recent Saturday morning, I put on some ridiculously obnoxious spandex pants (violation of life #1) and a white tee shirt (#2) and ran (#3) ~3.1 miles to a loud and colorful finish line.

And you know what? It was sort of fun. And I almost liked it.

In no way does this classify me as a "runner" and you can also take it to the bank that I ate nothing but Dairy Queen the following day as a reward because all my parts and pieces hurt...but I DID it.