Indeed, the sun came out tomorrow

Can anyone tell me what that bright, round, yellow thing in the sky is?

Honestly.

We have not seen the sun around here for a few weeks, and today when it shone through my window and blinded my eyes warmed my face, I hardly recognized it.

But it does make me oh, so happy to see it. Here's hoping it sticks around more than two minutes. I am in desperate need of whatever vitamin it gives off. For some strange reason, that vitamin isn't found in cookies or diet coke, which is where I've been looking for it.

Anyhoo, we had a fabulous weekend with an old friend who came to town. [Of course, we had a mini-session, which you can sneak a peek at here.]

We've known this cute girl since she was 12 - and she's now a nearly-graduated trauma nurse. We snatched her right up back then and she became our regular babysitter. Sam was my lifeline to the outside world when I spent my days changing diapers, watching Barney, and counting the minutes until bedtime. She sat for us before there was even a Hannah pinking up our lives, and was there to witness McKay and Chase in all their toddler running/screaming/jumping/squealing glory.

Bottom line is: She knew us back THEN and still likes us.

Which is really saying something.

It was a treat to have her here, and my kids were not the same this morning when they woke up without Sam to jump on or cuddle with.

What say you, Sam? Finish up that degree and come be our live-in babysitter.

We'll take you any time, kid.

One for the sibs

One added bonus at the baptism this past weekend was the presence of both sets of parents (and one lovely cousin who braved a solo road trip with four kids to be here). We felt showered by lovely rose petals from our family tree.

Using Mother's Day as the ruse, I begged the parents and in-laws to sit for a mini photo session - and true to their good natures - they humored me and obliged.

I thought they were all so cute and it warmed my heart to see familiar faces through my lens for a change.

I share these here so that siblings near and far can sneak a peek and share in the fun, too.

The in-laws:

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And the parents:

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The baptism

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This past weekend, my baby girl was baptized.

My heart was so full. In the only quiet moment of the day, as I was helping her get dressed, I paused for a minute. I held my Hannah and told her how proud I was of her, and how much I truly loved her. She didn't fidget, play with my earrings, or roll her eyes - as she is sometimes fond of doing. She looked me square in the eye, and I felt our souls connect. She threw her arms around my neck, and pulled back with tiny tears on her cheeks, matching my own.

"I love you, too, Mama," she whispered.

It was a moment I will never forget.

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This is truly the joy and rejoicing in posterity.

She has the crazy eyes

Remember the picture I posted last week of the Husband and I?

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Yes, that one. The one in which you were all so complimentary and I had a day or two where I walked around the world with my head a little higher thinking, "Yeah. I'm hot."

Remember that?

Well, careful examination of that photo has reaffirmed what I secretly suspected years ago.

That I have the Runaway Bride Eyes.

Remember her? The crazy chick who ran away from home, then came back days later claiming she had been raped and kidnapped? Only we found afterward that she made it all up to avoid having to get married?

Well, say hello to the RB and her blond twin, Stie:

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I know, right?

I offer you further proof of my crazy eyes in a photo taken at the Hershey factory in Pennsylvania (Note: I do not normally wear paper hats as my staple fashion accessory):

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And more proof here:

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What disturbs me most is that I remember the pictures being posted of her and everyone in the media commenting about how you could just tell "by the look in her eyes" that she was crazy and unstable.

I ask you, dear friends, what does that say about me?

Never mind. Don't answer that.

P.S. Have you seen all the exciting sessions happening here?

These I love

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I love it when they sometimes crawl into bed with me first thing in the morning, the smell of sleep still in their hair. They curl their warm, lazy bodies next to mine and together we talk and dream of what the day will hold.

I love it when they turn up the music loud and entice me away from the computer or the dishes to dance and sing with them at the top of my lungs. More often than not, it is music from my era, and part of my soul rejoices in knowing I have brainwashed them into loving the 80s.

I love it when they give me hugs. For no reason at all.

I love it when they surround me for a family movie night. Feet and legs tangled beneath blankets, we watch and laugh together. Popcorn or cookies are shared. It's times like this that I can even pretend I don't mind the crumbs.

I love it when I see that their pants are too short or notice wrists and forearms sticking awkwardly out of shirt sleeves because that means they have grown. And it makes me so happy when they do what they're supposed to.

I love it when they dance and laugh in the rain because daddy said yes after I said no.

I love it when they look me in the eye and ask my opinion on something because they think I'm an expert. Even when it's math that totally goes over my head.

I love it that they love me.

I love them with every particle of my being.

And every night when my head hits the pillow, I thank God for trusting me with these three perfect souls.

Happy mother's day, indeed.