It’s not always sunny. It’s not always bright. And no, it’s not always perfect. There is a time for rain…moments where the bright clarity of sunshine is rinsed with the precipitation that comes now and then to drench the parched grounds and make them grow again.

It rained this weekend.

My first real trip away from my newest little brought me and my camera to the evening before a wedding on Friday night. I watched and snapped my camera from a distance as a beautiful woman practiced for her big day. She was small and blonde and pretty and I couldn’t help but think of my Lainey someday. And, walking beside her on the beach on this happy evening was her little sister, small and blonde and pretty too. I smiled watching them and their family as they bathed in happiness on this very special night. And when I climbed in my car, I cried. I cried again for what I thought I’d have. I cried because I want Nella to have this too. I cried because I forgot the sadness is still there sometimes. And then I cried because I was mad I was crying. I found a beach towel in the backseat and wiped my tears with it as I drove, cursing myself for not being able to control it and for the mascara that was now blotched all over the yellow terry cloth loops of my towel. I felt silly. But it felt good to admit the sadness exists there sometimes and to accept it. To let it fall like the rain and rinse the sunshine out but for a moment because growth always follows a good rain.

I called a friend who had me laughing in no time and, in five minutes, we were picturing together Lainey’s wedding someday…with both my beautiful girls. And music. And dancing. And happiness. The happiness? That never changes.

Rain is still beautiful though.

Thankfully, we had our sunshine too this weekend…in many forms, but our favorite being the rare, concentrated, exquisite form of family in from out of town.

We joined my cousin and her sweet girl for a day of kiddish wonder on Saturday beginning with a tea party in our woods…

Which, for the record, may I add that the cake platter, although looking perfectly quaint and beautiful, is not the most functional place to balance tea pots and such on uneven ground in the middle of the woods. Let’s just say the entire party slid into a heap of half-eaten crackers, puddles of milk and soggy cookies in poor Cousin’s lap and it’s a wonder if the poor child wants to attend a tea party at our house again. Go big or go home we say and, sadly, I think the “go home” option was lookin’ pretty sweet after our fiasco.

Not to worry. We recovered beautifully at our Botanical Gardens where the girls basked in their bathing suits among herbs and plants and flowery things and despite a small little almost-getting-run-over-by-a-motorized-wheelchair incident and one of those award winning mom moments when it’s my kid who blatantly breaks the rules (DON’T TOUCH THE SLOTH, she said) because the girl loves any furred creature that breathes…

…well, it was perfect.

The favorite event of the day (I think for all of us) was, by far, the tree house relay where both girls ran ferocious circles through bridges and wood-planked ramps, screeching to a halt as they rounded corners anything but gracefully which was just the way we liked it.

Overall, the gardens trip put the tipsy tea party to shame.

And every day of outdoor splendor must indeed be balanced with indoor wonder, a challenge we were happy to accept as we settled our sun-kissed girls inside for some painting and potato salad…

And, yes today it rained…literally…as we opened windows to welcome misty breezes kissed with the scent of spring and used a gray day as an opportunity to scour floors and catch up on laundry. It was quite wonderful, really…a cozy Sunday banished to the inner comforts of movies and coffee and snuggling with this sweet little beetle…

Which brings me, once again, to the comforts of home you have been sharing. A few more from you as this comes to a close…

From Rachel:

Our lively room is our master bedroom. It has seen some great nights and some terrible nights. It’s had its door slammed by squealing kids running to hide from imaginary dinosaurs, it’s where I spent countless nights nursing my babies, it’s full of great hide and seek spots, it’s a haven for toys, and my favorite room in the house.

From Sarah:

Life happens here in our toddler’s bedroom. Love has been literally stroked onto its walls, having been painted no less than three times over two days by a loving daddy, at the urging of an expectant mama, both determined to find the perfect shade of pink for the arrival of our firstborn. Currently it’s my favorite place to watch as our two daughters are united and we can just see love and friendship blooming in their hearts.… In this room sweet and silly books are read and giggled over by all before naptime and lingered over after naps. It’s here that bedtime tales have been shared nearly every night by adoring parents, who are still finding it a little difficult to believe that they could have possibly been this blessed.

And from Amy:

The Floor in our Family Room. It’s where we start our mornings, me with my coffee in hand, my daughter by pulling out all the toys that were put away the previous night or begging her Daddy for a sip of the foam off the top of his latte before he leaves for work. It’s our home base throughout the day as she toddles to far corners of the house to explore. It’s where we play together, or where I just watch in awe as she plays on her own and I feel the kicks of her baby sister, whom we are so eager to meet. It’s the perfect spot to try to see the world through her eyes. It’s where we gather when Daddy gets home so we can all play together and talk about our days and our dreams. Where Daddy and our Miss watch fishing shows on Sunday mornings, or he plays the guitar for her while I make dinner. Where we open Christmas and Birthday gifts and where an Easter basket was “hidden.” So much Life happens in this spot on the Floor.

As the wet, evening air of a good spring rain breathes through our bedroom, preparing it for a good night’s sleep, I am relishing again in the wonderful comforts of home. Of family. Of us.

Yes, rain is beautiful and purposeful.

…but I still love my sunshine.

Drawing compliments of Abernathy’s Art.

And beautiful, wonderful growth never fails to follow the rain. I’ve grown many ‘inches’ this year already…and I like being tall.

Farewell!

This week, I cooked my first real dinner since Nella’s been born. It’s actually been that long that we’ve had meals brought in or Brett has taken over the kitchen. And, for a minute, I thought I forgot how to cook. But, it wasn’t long after pulling up my sleeves and digging in to peel onions and potatoes, pull thick cabbage leaves apart and drop them into a simmering pot of salty corned beef that mulled with the promise of a tasty feast soon to come that I felt it all come back…the delight of working in my lively kitchen. And, thanks to the beautiful stories of yours coming in on life in the kitchen and elsewhere, I think I enjoyed it even more.

And, speaking of firsts, I will leave the “newborn” for the first extended period of time tonight. I have a rehearsal dinner to photograph and other than quick trips to the grocery store here and there, she hasn’t been without her mama. Or milk. We’ll see how that goes, but I will say, I was reminded once again today as I hooked up the mess of tubes and plastic contraptions, just how strange and unnatural the process of pumping is, and there’s a reason this process occurs in barns. Because doing it standing over a counter in the middle of a kitchen while your husband is washing dishes is just weird. Which explains why my cousin swears the whirring rhythm of a breast pump sounds like it’s saying…crazy, crazy, crazy, crazy.

I had a quick shoot earlier this week at our house and Brandyn came running out to tell me Nella was crying and Dad was trying everything he could to keep her quiet to no avail. Ten minutes later, I walked in to find him in the kitchen with Nella swaddled in one arm and a plastic cup full of pennies in the other. And he was shaking the bejesus out of the cup so that all you could hear was coins going bananas and I can’t figure out if she was soothed into her trance or scared out of her mind. Either way, Brett swears it works, so tonight I am leaving him with brief feeding instructions, a bottle full of well-earned milk, and a plastic cup full of pennies. All should go just fine.

Here’s to hoping because Brett has been looking forward all week to his night alone with the girls.

I walked by the swing the other day and saw a little elephant toy had been rigged up to hang in view and, before I could ask, Brett explained, “I did it. She likes it.” I smiled and passed it off as one of those cute little daddy things Brett convinces himself is true, but then later I saw this…

…so, I guess he’s right.

She’s also discovered that her little fingers taste delicious and watching her tediously look for them and score on their arrival to her little mouth for some good sucking is like watching a good movie.

…and hello sweet little feet. If I had a penny for every precious picture we’ve taken of ripe little toes, well we’d be stinkin’ rich.

We now interrupt this post for our fairy party update.
No-sew tutus are in the works and are super easy to make. Basically, you use waist elastic and measure 1 inch smaller than child’s waist, secure with safety pin (although I did sew mine), loop around chair and tie strips of tulle into knots around perimeter.

Hot glue flower and add inexpensive Target t-shirt painted with a big “3” and sewed with ribbon and buttons and…Voila…my girl’s birthday digs.

She talks about her party every single day amid library book reading, coloring and…running naked in our front yard. Our poor neighbors.

With cousins around, she’s also enjoyed the trundle bed being pulled out because she can safely jump from one bed to the other.

She loves her bedroom.

Despite the parade of nasty colds going around in our home right now, we are enjoying our Friday and looking forward to a weekend of more family in town and maybe…just maybe…an Isle of Capri reunion. Be still my heart.

You know what I’m loving right now? I’m loving my girl’s snuggles and the way Lainey says, “‘Top it, Baby ‘ella” when the little one grabs her hair.

Or when they have foot wars, even though Lainey wins every time because poor Nella doesn’t know what a foot war is and I guess if you don’t know, according to Lainey, you lose automatically.

I don’t get sad anymore thinking about their relationship. I get excited. I know I will have sad days, but I can’t believe how long it’s been since I’ve been scared or sad. I’ve just been enjoying life and her and us so much lately. And I think, when it comes down to all there is to think about for the future…all there is to be scared of, I arrive back to the place of this: at the end of our lives, when all is said and done, what we will look back on as the most important, most defining, most beautiful moments in our life? They won’t have anything to do with the things Nella may not be able to do. It won’t be milestones or college or jobs or success. It will be herds of bodies in the kitchen on Christmas Eve preparing breakfast for the next morning, vacations holding hands, scouring shells on the beach, laughing around the dinner table for evening meals, kayaking to the accompaniment of live reggae on Isle of Capri Sundays…and that? Nella will have every bit of that. What a comfort that is.

And finally, more lively places in your home. Oh, I smile reading them. What lovely homes you have.

Jenna loves her daughter’s room where life evolves (and sweet Lana has our magic chromosome too):
Life abounds in Lana’s room. It’s where giggles and imaginations explode. It’s where Lana knows she’s the queen and where everyone encourages that. It’s where we know we did everything we could to show Lana just how much we love her and all that she has blessed us with… every night we gather as a family and allow jumping on the bed just before we nestle in for story and book time. And this is where our family is living life to the fullest.

Laurie’s lively place is her bedroom:
There are so many rooms in our house that have a warm beautiful feeling to them, but our bedroom would have to be top of the list. Here is where a lot of love, joy, laughter, and cuddling goes on! In the morning, while I nurse my baby girl, the boys huddle close to get a snuggle in under the covers, and watch Sesame Street on Youtube. …it’s a precious room, one full of awesome memories, and one where new ones are made each day.

Kristy loves her couch…

This is our lively place. This couch is where we hug after my daughter comes home from school as we chat about her day; where I “tittle” my son’s feet – at his insistence – while we watch the flames flicker in the fireplace; where we read story after bed-time story; where we take Sunday afternoon naps; and lay under cozy blankets when sick; where we just CHILL…while the world around us swirls and pulsates with its steady hum…here, we are at peace.

Daniele beautifully describes her much-loved kitchen table:

A few of many flashes of memories for me at that table: Being alone, ripping open and reading letters over and over from my husband when he was deployed in Iraq, my tears falling down to the glass and wiping them away with my shirt sleeve…late nights grading papers and writing lesson plans when I was student teaching and also when I was finally a “real” teacher… Putting my first daughter into the high chair strapped on to one of the seats, so beyond excited to feed her her first meal of rice cereal….Flash forward to today—We finally live in the home we’ll be in for a long time. And it is like our beloved little table was made for this house and our little eat-in kitchen area. It fit perfectly. When you sit there now, you feel like you’re outside in the backyard, in the kitchen, and in the living room next to the fireplace all at once.

And finally, Rachel, portrays their lively entryway with her words…

I enclosed this picture from our current place, because this tiny entryway is where it all goes down daily. My daughter loves getting outside, the baby loves to move the door and my other son races his cars on the rug. AND it’s the wonderful threshold that we watched my husband walk through after he finished 3 months of training away from us. This photo was taken when we first moved into this house after a cross country trip, 2 weeks before my husband came home.

I don’t ever want this contest to end! I’m seeing a best-seller coffee table book full of the lovely places in a home!

Thank you to all who have sent their beautiful, inspiring photos and stories! More to come.

Have a beautiful weekend!

~k

My heart is happy.
Because my day has commenced and closed with little moments of goodness like two equally delicious bookends, propping up a smattering of middle chapters that happen to include similar goodness. A Goodness Sandwich, if you will.

Beginning with hot coffee hugged in the perfect mug as we leisurely readied for our day that included…

Our Neighborhood Easter Party

Full of sugary pastels and best-dressed littles holding baskets on the outside and anticipation for egg hunting and candy finding on the inside.

Lainey herded us along all morning, trying to get our butts out the door because she was so excited to see the Easter Bunny. Of course, one sighting of him transformed her innocent excitement to horror movie-like terror. As soon as she saw him through the glass panes of the door, she ran like hell to her daddy.

…and only lifted her head off his shoulder for a glance if she had the door as a barrier.

She kept her hands over her eyes believing that whole If-I-can’t-see-him-maybe-he-can’t-see-me thing. Kids are so funny.

And when, and only when, she was thorougly ensured that the Bunny had left the building, she agreed to venture outside for my favorite part. What is it about egg hunts that make me so freaking high on life?

Maybe it’s the way she works hard to hide her smile. Like she’s way too cool to let you know she’s totally enjoying it all. No, she forces seriousness, tediousness, total focus as she scours the dewy grass for jewel tone hints. But, even through the straight face, the intently masked shy smile, the finger-in-her-mouth concentration, you can see it. …Bliss. And I can’t hide the fact that it just gets me. Her. Spring. Little kids in ruffled dresses and perfectly-parted braids happy squealing and mad-dashing to fill their baskets.

And the little bunny who slept through it all.

She wasn’t quite so frightened of the Easter Bunny so proper introductions were made.

Big Bunny, Little Bunny. Little Bunny, Big Bunny.

And they became fast friends…even though, after I put a baby in his arms for a picture, the Big Bunny looked at me through those giant mesh eyes like he didn’t know what the heck he was doing. I just saw two strange eyes peeking through those huge mesh holes, our gazes met and it was really awkward. I wanted to say, “I see you in there” and I think he wanted to say something maybe along the lines of “I don’t hold babies,” but there were throngs of children around him and if we shared a conversation and the kids heard a recognizable man’s voice squeaking out of the tiny fur hole in the giant bunny costume, I guess the jig is kinda up.
Moral of the story: Giant Costumes for Grown-Ups are kind of freaky.

Needless to say, our morning was perfectly festive. Followed by an intermission of inhaling every breath of heavenly goodness these eight pounds and fifteen ounces of magic gifts me with.

Brett is known for his series of nicknames for his kids. He takes nickname-giving a very serious sport indeed, pondering his choices, making sure they “fit,” sometimes altering them a bit until they are perfect and organically worn-in. Lainey’s “Baby Bee” took a whole year of cultivating (and shortening from Binkywinky to Binkywinks to Binky to Binks to finally, just “Bee”) not to mention the handful of other names she was referred to in the process.

With that said, I’ve been wondering what Nella will be called. She’s all of two months and I’ve been waiting to hear mention of a nickname, but haven’t wanted to badger or pressure the arrival of such name without it happening naturally just the way Daddy likes to do it.
Well, this week, it’s happened. It’s been dropped several times now and, although it’s subject to change I’m sure, she has a Daddy-given name.

He calls her…
Little Present.

…and every time I hear him whisper it to her, it makes me want to cry. What a present she is.

Spring = Bonnet Wearing. Because I love bonnets so very much.

And the last chapters of our day arrived with a beautiful evening with friends sipping plastic cups of beer poolside…

…and an outdoor movie. Lainey was thrilled to drag her pillow outside and curl up under the stars with a blanket, a bag of popcorn and some tiki torch glow for some Saturday night perfection.

…while Nella slept through the entire thing.

And somewhere between tying my wet hair into a sloppy ponytail this morning to make it out the door on time to satisfy a begging toddler waiting to see the Easter Bunny to settling into patio chairs under the stars to watch my girls experience the cozy joy of watching a movie outside, it arrived again–that feeling of perfect contentment. Because, no matter what stresses lie on our plate, what challenges we face ahead, what unpleasant feelings we temporarily harbor, the Bigger Picture of what really matters? It’s perfect and beautiful and unscathed.

And our conclusion today? After the last chapter, we closed with our pre-bed Easter Eve ritual…putting out the Easter Bunny’s food–because, apparently, despite the fact the mesh-eyed giant terror traumatized her a bit this morning, she’s over it and is okay with the fact that he’s comin’ to our house tonight.

Lainey chose celery and water and scripted my note to him, verbatim, as follows:

Easter Bunny, Come to my house.
At nine.
Hello.
Bring me a basket and chocolate.
Please. I love you. Love, Lainey

Tomorrow brings good things.
Have a wonderful Easter.

And a total tangent, but many have asked about the absence of the hospital bracelet. It fell off. Just fell off while I was running out the door one day. I didn’t get to cut it myself or have a moment when it happened. I looked down and saw it lying there and thought maybe I’d cry or fall apart but, nope. Just tucked it in the pocket of a diaper bag and moved on. Because life moves on and we’re all okay.