Apparently I've been a mom for 7 years.

That's what the calendar says. That's what her number of birthdays say. But it's not true. It was only a few days ago that she was like this.

I stared as long as I could but I had to blink.

And blink.

And blink.

Blink.

Blink.

Blink.

And look where we've ended up. Seven years she's been on this earth.

So a celebration was in order.

Swimming.

Presents.
(That one was obviously from her sister.)

A birthday sundae.

A birthday skirt.

And the best part of the celebration - the part I thought might not live up to expectations, but surpassed them - lighting Sky Lanterns. If you've seen Tangled, you know the possibility for this to be a romantic, beautiful experience. It was.

The lantern company sent an extra lantern - in pink, no less - so that's the one Hannah used.

They are so easy to light and set free.

And there they go.

A picture really can't do them justice. It was lovely. We have a few extra that we're saving to send off on a warm summer evening.

As an aside, I wish we could take snapshots of our inner selves so you could see just how much I've changed in the last seven years, from being this child's mother. Inconceivable, as a certain Sicilian would say.

Three years goes by so fast.

He never really was this small, was he?

Couldn't have been.

But he was. And he was loved from the first moment we saw him.

All of us.

I hardly recognize him in some of these old pictures.

In others, not so hard at all.

Quiet and playful.

Giggly and loves horse rides.

Misses his Daddy when he's at work. (He spent 5 minutes dusting Daddy's picture on the family tree.)

Lets his sisters dress him up.

I can't do anything in the kitchen without him right there wanting to help.

There was never any question of his tractor going into the garage with the bikes at the end of fall.

He is so very loved.

Happy Birthday my quiet little guy.

I can't imagine our family without you in it.

The More It Snows

by A. A. Milne

The more it snows - tiddely - pom,

The more it goes - tiddely - pom

The more it goes - tiddely - pom

On snowing.

And nobody knows - tiddely - pom,

How cold my toes - tiddely - pom

How cold my toes - tiddely - pom

Are growing.

This post brought to you courtesy of Grayson's current favorite poem.

Also, if you're following along on my fabric stash busting, I've got a new post up - Library bags and Library card wallets.

Life is dangerous.

It is therefore only prudent when you protect yourself.

From flying game pieces.

Or unruly peas.

Or snow. Dangerous stuff, that.

Or little brothers.

He looks dangerous doesn't he?

Clay can be dangerous too.

And playing with matches.

Alright, she's got me there.

She's even gotten her brother in on it.

Though for him it may be more of a fashion statement.

Balloons are back.

Balloons have been relegated to the game area for months while new interests have taken over. A few weeks ago Hannah wanted to play with them some more, so she started back up.

Poodles, of course.

And swords. Those are the fastest and easiest.

Then dragonflies.

And fairy wands.

Then Ainsley got into it, but she was not going to stick with 'normal' balloon items. She made her father a sleeping hat.

(and insisted on him trying it out that night)

Then she made herself a sleeping hat.

(and decided that it wasn't very useful)

But this ... this was the crowning achievement of the night. Ains and her daddy put together an entire warrior outfit. Helmet and all.

She designed it. The helmet *still* kills me.

She made her daddy an entire outfit too. She was the queen and he was her knight and she led him into several battles that night. Oh, how I wish those pictures had turned out.

Hannah was slow to the warrior party, but once she got involved, Ains let her be a knight also.