Merry Christmas to all

each life that touches ours for good

Dear Grandma,

We will miss you.  Remember when we were so little and you gave us pajamas for Christmas every year?

Remember when we would visit you in Logan?  You would be sleeping on the floor in the basement with us and say, "Let's see who can fall asleep the fastest."  All of us would be really quiet.  It only took a minute or two until we heard the snores that let us know you were fast asleep.  Then we would giggle and play as late as we could.

Remember when you made chili for dinner?  We were in the middle of the meal when you realized you had lost your band aid while fixing dinner.  We thought we might be sick.

Remember how you always sent a birthday card to us each year?  I always looked forward to hearing from you.

You served a mission in New Zealand when you were older and sent us the most beautiful gifts.  Whenever you traveled, you always thought of us and brought us something special.

Eight years ago, you suffered a massive stroke.  It took some of you with it, but you have always been a tough woman, so it didn't take you away completely.

Just a few months ago, you came to live with my parents.  I thought what a burden it would be on the entire family.  But now, I can see that it was a blessing.  We got to share in your last few months of life.  Ember got to see you almost every day.  She loved your voice and your attention.  We all did.

We will miss you very much.  We know you are in a beautiful place with your parents, your twin brother, and your friends.  We know we'll get to see you again and we look forward to that beautiful reunion.

With love, your family

a sleigh ride together

Over at My Sister's Suitcase they are having a linky party and since I have a pretty good chance of winning, I am blogging about my favorite Christmas tradition.

Every year, on Christmas Eve, we get new pajamas.  This was always my favorite Christmas tradition.  We had to take a bath, then we'd open them after we got out.  I love the way new pajamas feel.  I always looked forward to our pajamas.

I remember the very first year of this family tradition.  My pajamas were pink with a little sheep on the sweater.  I hung on to them for years, even when I had long grown out of them.

Even now I am exciting to think about opening new pajamas, drinking hot cocoa, and singing Christmas songs with my family.

And just imagine Ember snuggled up in some adorable holiday getup.

 

So sweet, no?

big ol' kisses that go on and on and never end

Big news.  Well, not the biggest, but news nonetheless.  

What do you think?

i will redeem myself

So far this week has been pretty intense.

One date night.  Two days of snow.  Three days of running.  Four sleepless nights. Five calling birds. Six hours till Friday. Seven minutes of peace. Eight miles run.  9 times listening to Justin Bieber's "Mistletoe."  Ten...

Here's to the rest of the week.

trying to find a pretty girl that these shoes go nice with

I believe that little e's hair deserves a post of its own.  I mean, really.  How many younglings have such an impressive mullet?  Move aside Robby Ray.   

I know her face is adorable and her eyes are gorgeous, but try to focus on her hair.

I'm pretty sure she could beat David Bowie in a David Bowie hair contest. 

The wave look.

The balding-old-man-who-can't-afford-a-trim look.

The rhino look.

My personal favorite.

Little e's first pigtails.  Oh, so cute!

Her wild side.

Call it a mullet or just "nature's bangs" this little girl rocks it.  She can make anything look good.

Happy time change.  Hearts.

all i ever think about is you

little e is usually quite supportive.  when i go running, she gives me encouraging smiles when we come to a particularly difficult hill.  or perhaps she is just laughing at her mother as she trudges along.

lately she's taken up stretching.  here is our little e stretching with her mommy.

i love my baby girl.

we are working on something big.  i don't dare really say, since it might jinx it.  let's just say it will involve much more of this.