I wrote today’s date in my journal this morning and sort of choked on the truth: One more week of the month that I swear just started.
I’m glad to have taken a few photos of our doings, because these moments that I cherish? They are gone before I know it.
Basketball that is serious…
and just good fun. (Thanks, Dad, for taking these pictures!)
Playing at Nana and Papa’s house with cousins.
Learning to be a big girl.
Winning our hearts.
Being astounded by the whiteness, the brightness, and the bright blue sky reflected on fields of snow.
Loving being a mother to this one, my oldest, as he leaves the world of Little Boy behind. But not completely. His freckles are still Norman Rockwell, and his hand always ready to hold mine.*
Orange is his favorite color. And never fails to be the perfect contrast to North Country skies.
And on stormy days, I can usually figure out where he’s wandered to.
Catching snowflakes on tongue. Letting them collect on my bare head. Loving that the world looks like it’s veiled, viewed through vellum. That’s what I always imagine, anyway.
And this. No words.
Okay, maybe one: bursting.
*And, regarding that joyful son of mine? Last Thursday evening I was tucking them into bed, telling them that Tomorrow is Valentine’s Day!
And Jameson said, “Four party days in a row?!”
“What do you mean?” I asked.
“Well, tomorrow is Valentine’s Day. Saturday is basketball. Sunday is church, and then Monday is the first day of a brand new week!!”
Are you kidding? This kid is the best. His melancholy brother and I are very blessed to have him in our lives.