life of seven

18

We had such a wonderful time celebrating Cate's 18th birthday with family and friends. A friend suggested making the party a fancy dress up one, with live background music (plenty of willing participants for that around here!) and I knew that would be perfect. We bought plenty of bouquets and spread them through the house, lit candles, and asked people to bring fancy appetizers. But, the funnest part of the night was the live entertainment portion, where everyone was treated to a cello solo, a euphonium/piano duet, and several performances of Cate's favorite songs. So, lots of Hamilton, La La Land, and The Greatest Showman was heard. It was so much fun and made the night feel really special, which is what I wanted. I wanted my girl, who is so grown up now, to have a grown up party and feel as loved and special as she deserves. Which is a lot. I know it was a memorable evening for her, one she won't forget. I'm sure, if I continue blogging frequently, I will write more thoughts on what it is like to have my children transition from kids to adults. For now, I will say, that it is magical. It's amazing. I'm so proud of them I could just burst. I miss newborns, and toddlers, of course, but having grown-up Cate in my life a close friend, and watching her set goals and achieve them, is indescribable. The whole parenting package is absolutely miraculous as I've seen it unfold for 18 years now. So many unexpected delights and fun and laughter, and, now, as my kids are getting older, the discovery that I have made friends for life. 

Mr. Knightly

***Finds blog site, checks login info, dusts off keyboard, wiggles fingers in anticipation*** 

My husband paid me what I took as a compliment the other day, though it perhaps wasn't intended as such. "Your worst failing in life," he began.

"Oh, no Ben," I groaned. "Do we have to have this conversation?" anticipating what was to come. One thing you need to know about Ben. His Jane Austen doppleganger, in personality, at any rate, would be Mr. Knightly.

Have you ever looked for your, and your friends' and families' literary dopplegangers? Those characters in literature that you recognize immediately because they are so much like you, or remind you exactly of another person? It is great fun. One of mine is the rather obscure Katherine Krupnik, the absentminded, artistic, excellent cook if she remembers to plan dinner, schedule-phobic, family-adoring mother of Anastasia Krupnik. Yep. Pretty much describes me to a T. But back to what I was saying.

You would think it would be wonderful to be married to Mr. Knightly. Actually, it is. Mr. Knightly, undoubtedly, would be my pick over, say, Mr. Darcy, or Mr. Bingley, Colonel Brandon, Mr Ferrars, or, borrowing from the Hunger Games, Gale, or Peeta (no contest there- who even invited those two schmucks into the competition???). Now, when you bring up Gilbert Blythe, the competition gets a bit tougher, but in general, I can say wholeheartedly that Mr. Knightly from Emma is one of my favorite literary male characters. So, it is lucky I married my own Mr. Knightly.

But here's the thing with Mr Knightly: the "Badly done, Emma! Badly done!" scene. Emma deserved that, and knows she deserved it. See, Mr. Knightly is not afraid to speak his mind when he thinks something should be corrected or rectified. And, so, being married to Mr.Knightly's doppelganger, perhaps you can imagine, has its own set of peculiar challenges. Ben and I devote time, lots and lots and lots of time, evaluating ourselves, our marriage, our family, and our lives, to discuss what's working, and what's not, what could be improved, and so on. Because of this, I have him to thank for helping me come up with systems to make our house run smoothly, homeschooling plans where everyone knows what is supposed to happen each day, meals that get on the table most evenings (even though I can space out about that at times: "Dinner? We need to eat dinner again tonight? But I made dinner last night! Do we really need to eat again so soon?" Told you I was like Katherine Krupnik! Thanks to Ben's help with coming up with a plan, that rarely happens anymore), a house that gets cleaned three times a day, time for me to spend with God each morning.

All these things have bettered our lives, even though they have been challenging to implement at first. That's the thing, us creative types don't realize at first that a clean workspace and environment actually encourages creativity, not inhibits it. While a detailed daily schedule really doesn't fit me well (I've tried), instead, having a daily routine that I stick to quite closely really makes the homeschooling day go more smoothly for everyone. Each child knows what is supposed to happen every day, and what their jobs and responsibilities are.

These things, I have to thank, in large part, to my Mr. Knightly. 

At times, though, being married to a real life Mr. Knightly can have it's own set of frustrations. Being reminded frequently of things that need to be corrected can feel overwhelming at times. In the book, he tells Emma something like (I don't have the exact words in front of me), "I have rebuked and corrected you, and you have born it wonderfully!" Every now and then, to keep my spirits up, and to make fun of himself for how high a standard he sets, at times, for our lives, Ben jokingly quotes that exact phrase to me. 

Anyway, the other day, Ben said to me, "Do you want to know what your worst failing is?"

"Not particularly, no," I groaned.

"Your worst failing," he continued, ignoring my scrunched up face and the fact I crumpled myself in a heap upon hearing the words (we were both laughing, by the way), "your worst failing is that you have not been faithful to your blog where you take pictures of our kids, and write about our lives, and put our stories as they all grow up, into your blog."

"That's my worst failing?" I repeated, straightening up. "Wow, you must think I'm amazing. How can that be my worst failing?"

"You are amazing."

"Oh." See, it's really a great thing to be married to Mr. Knightly.

"But I want you to write your blog."

"Oh. Okay. I agree. Actually, yeah, I really miss recording all of that down, too."

One of my dearest friends, Tarah, is akin to my husband in that she is not afraid to bring up the hard topics. Every now and then, she sends me a text. "WRITE YOUR BLOG!" Well, she happened to be over that night. "Write your blog, Jen!"

"Okay, okay, I'll do it! Okay!"

Yesterday, I saw her at church. "Write your blog!"

"Okay, okay, I will!"

And so I have, today, at least. 

I'll leave you with a picture of Cate on her 18th (for real!) birthday.

Easter and a birthday party

Happy Easter, friends! I hope you found the day to be as glorious as I did. Easter is at the same time a completely sobering and absolutely joy-filled holiday for me, as I imagine it would be for anyone who celebrates the death, burial, and resurrection of Jesus Christ, as I do, on that day. Every year, as I know Christ better, and as I recognize more and more what a profound impact He has on my life, Easter holds a greater significance to me. It's hard for me to write about the profound impact Easter Sunday holds for me in just a few sentences. 

"Calvary, oh what it means to me-

Since Jesus set me free, I think of Calvary!

It was Jesus blood- oh what a cleansing flood!

He did it all, for me, on Calvary!"

There is no freedom like the freedom found in Jesus Christ. 

It was a lovely day all around, with lovely weather.

I'm also doubling up on this post and showing you pictures from Evie's tenth birthday party. Yes, my little girl reached double digits, amazingly. She is the most joyful, compassionate, content little soul you will ever meet. For her birthday, my friend came up with the idea of holding a fancy tea party, and doing our own version of "The Great British Baking Show," having guests bring their fanciest desserts and letting Evie judge them to see whose was the most delicious. We all loved the idea, particularly because we are such fans of that show, not to mention our love of all things British. Evie's friend Elijah was the second judge, and they deliberated just like Paul and Mary in the show. It was such a cute theme for a party. And as you can see, many guests really went all out on their bakes. Everyone had fun dressing up, too.

I have some knitting projects to show you- I've actually, um, finished THREE sweater sized projects that I haven't posted on here... oh goodness, lots to catch up on. I refuse to feel guilty about it though, and write when I can. Hope to be here again very soon!

a 13th birthday

This is how I find him on the morning of his thirteenth birthday. It could have just as easily been a shot of him playing with a ball, any ball. I think he loves sports as much as he loves music. But this morning, he couldn't resist the new stack of songbooks from his favorite musicals that his sisters gave him as a birthday gift. Though I'm sure that later on today, despite the rain, I will see him outside with a ball of some sort.

It's hard for me to believe that I have a 13 year old boy, now. The fact sounds scary, but the reality is wonderful, absolutely wonderful. He is so much fun, so full of life. Always joking. Kind to his siblings. In so many of his mannerisms, he reminds me of my side of the family- two of my cousins, Steve and David, and so, so much, of what I imagine my dad was like as a boy. The way he picks up a new sport in about five minutes flat, while his sisters and I have to consciously not let ourselves duck when a ball is thrown in our direction. The cheeky, mischievous grin that really means no harm. The love of being outside, working on some piece of equipment or coaxing something wonderful to grow.

However, in many ways he is so similar to my husband, especially in his love for logic and the ability to grasp a new concept the moment the basic elements have been explained to him. 

Anyone who visits our house and meets Gideon will also meet Pepper at the same time, because our/his German Shepherd is never more than a few feet from his side. How many hours has she spent lying at his feet under the piano? I couldn't begin to count them.

Today, Gideon and I are going to make homemade pretzels together, at his request. Tomorrow, friends are coming over for a sleepover. It's birthday season around here, with Evie turning ten next Saturday , Jude turning seven in May, Cate turning seventeen last month. Spring is always full of parties and celebrations. But what is more special than celebrating the lives of those who make me the happiest person in the world?

A Visit From the Fairy Godmother

When I look at these photos, I think, It's too bad Clementine Merriweather doesn't have many dimples...then I chuckle to myself at how hilarious I am. She's got dimples upon dimples upon dimples. 

As you can probably tell, this little girl turned two yesterday. My littlest baby, still a baby in my eyes, really isn't much of a baby anymore. I really wanted to commemorate the occasion, with Pinterest-filled thoughts of a Cinderella party dancing in my head. Or, perhaps we could visit Lakeside (one of the oldest amusement parks in the country- I had many a birthday party here, my dad went as a boy, and we have lots and lots of memories at this place that twenty years ago was scary and run-down but has suffered through it to have graduated to the esteemed status of vintage and cool). When my party planning efforts failed and my husband informed me that this would be one of the busiest work weeks of his life, I thought I could scale back. I had the idea of visiting my aunt, who shares the same birthday as Clementine, sometime during that day, but discovered she would be out of town. Suddenly it was the night before the birthday and my sister asked me if I had a party or something like that, or even anything at all, planned.

"No."

"What about the epic Cinderella party we talked about???"

"Sure, Steph, sounds great. We'll be Cinderella in rags and you be the Fairy Godmother who shows up and makes a party appear!"

"Well, do you want me to come over?"

"Yeah, I guess. I don't know what we will do, but I can at least promise you a birthday dessert. I mean, I'm not even promising a birthday cake, but at the very least there will be stale Oreos."

Yesterday, on Clemmie's birthday, I had to leave early to take Gideon and Evie to piano lessons, so I just got a chance to say good morning to my birthday girl. When I got home, after being with her for a half hour, she fell asleep and took one of those long afternoon naps. 

Around three in the afternoon, I admit that I had a meltdown. I sat down in the hall and cried. I felt like a terrible mother.

My mom and three daughters surrounded me and comforted me. 

"Mom, it's fine. Clemmie is only two. She'll never remember this birthday."

"Let us go the store and grab a cake mix and we will make her a birthday cake."

"Invite Aunt Amy and our cousins and see if they can come over for just dessert. Afterward, we can watch the Olympics."

"You're being so silly! You knit your daughter a sweater for her birthday- I didn't give you girls handmade presents growing up!"

I realized I was perhaps being just a little bit silly. We ended up throwing together a cake mix, cleaning up the house, wrapping a couple presents, inviting my sister's family, and it did kind of feel like Cinderella in her rags, making do with what we had.

And, somehow, the magic happened. Almost like the fairy godmother really did visit. 

Grace dressed Clementine in her party dress.

We found a glittering number two decoration leftover from another birthday and watched Clementine run around outside with it and I quickly grabbed my camera and took some pictures. Had you happened upon those pictures on Pinterest I'm sure you would have thought I was one of those moms who staged a photo shoot weeks, or at least days, ahead of time. No, these pictures were thrown together in a matter of minutes. Click, click, click, click, hey, I really like that!

Clemmie's aunts and cousins arrived. Gifts were set on the table and Clementine let out the longest squeal. She knew from her sibling's birthday parties what a present was, I guess. She was so excited.

We sang happy birthday and played a few songs on the piano and she laughed and danced.

She opened her first gift, and she let out the loudest shriek of delight. My mom had gotten her a baby doll. You may know that I used to make all natural Waldorf dolls and sell them on Etsy. I'm sort of (sort of) a purist when it comes to natural toys. I mean I'm not too extreme, but I have never bought my kids plastic dolls with batteries that cry and wrinkle up their faces and make sucking sounds when you put a pacifier in their mouths. Well, this is exactly the sort of doll my parents bought Clementine. I mean, if you are used to all natural dolls stuffed with organic wool, the doll may have even looked a bit scary. But when she opened it up, you would think that Clementine was a mother who had just laid eyes on her own newborn child for the first time. For the rest of the night Clementine held that baby and put the pacifier in and out of the doll's mouth, over and over and over. She showed us the doll, but she didn't lay it in our laps to hold. She wouldn't set it down.

Later on, my aunt, the one I wanted to visit, but couldn't, gave us a call and we did FaceTime. We got to give each other great renditions of the birthday song. Clementine and her great aunt were each delighted by the phone call.

I put the sweater and bonnet on Clementine, despite her protests, and realized what great knitting project it ended up being.

Clemmie blew out her two candles after charming us with her antics around the cake, sneaking a finger in and tasting the frosting before we cut the cake.

The party ended with Olympics watching and Clemmie walking around from person to person, showing off her baby doll or pushing it in the stroller, or placing it in the high chair to feed it. After the long afternoon nap, Clemmie stayed up cheerfully until eleven, and finally we put her to bed. She didn't quite make it until the stroke of midnight, when the spell would have been broken. Instead, the party was over before the magic ended. 

Knitting, turning 36, and life

Ooooops...totally meant to post before another week went by but that's the way life goes sometimes. Well, gear up because I feel like writing today. An organized blogger would put all these thoughts and photos into two or three posts, but I never said I was an organized blogger. Or an organized anything. 

I'm feeling the knitting pull again, not that it ever goes away, but when we head toward fall (finally! hooray!) the knitting needles and the wooly stranded patterns and thick cables begin to call my name louder than ever. I am not much of a summer knitter, not meaning that I don't knit in the summer, I do, always, always, but I mean I hate knitting with cotton or linen or anything that's not from the fleece of an animal. The biggest compromise I will make when it comes to summer knitting is to use fingering weight yarn (love it, just takes so much longer) and I try not to knit huge projects that will cover my lap in a wool blanket. But, sometimes that happens anyway and there's nothing for me to do for it but to grin and bear all the sweat under my knitting. I know, did I make you cringe with the water balloon photos on an obviously suffocatingly hot morning, mixed in with photos of stiflingly hot stranded wool knitted projects? It's wishful thinking- fall is surely almost here!

Oh boy, so many projects going on. Love, love, love how Merriment came out. I need buttons still, and need to weave in the ends and sew up and block the adorable matching bonnet, but how cute did that pattern come out? Like always, Alicia's been inspiring me with her talk of stranded yoke sweaters and how fun they are to knit. I thought that already, but she has gotten the wheels turning in my brain as I scramble to remember the yoked sweater patterns I have been wanting to make for a while now besides Merriment. Should Alicia ever happen upon my blog, here you go Alicia: not sure if you yet discovered these yoked patterns yet. Like my sister said to me when I showed her Alicia's blog, "Um, why are we not best friends??" Um, right?? I just love checking out what she is up to in her adorable little Scandinavian-inspired house!

Back to knitting: I just hit the point (yet again, for the hundredth time) where I have to tell myself to slow down and not start so many things. Just when think I am getting burned out on knitting, or making things in general (like where I was a couple weeks ago), something or other always gets the ball rolling in an unexpected way. Maybe it will be with some sort of decorating project, maybe it will be something totally different, like sewing or cooking, but more often than not some new inspirational knitting project will call my name and I will be amazed that I ever felt the need to take a break from knitting.

For my readers who aren't knitters, don't worry, I have more to write about. I turned 36 a couple of days ago. I am so okay with it, in fact I have loved being in my thirties. Each year of life that goes by gets better than the last. I am not just saying that, I mean it with all my heart. Life takes so many unexpected twists and turns. So many bad, but so many of them so, so wonderful. I didn't realize watching my children grow up and seeing them experience the same things I experienced at their ages would be ten times better than when those things happened to myself. It's as if I'm living my life, plus seven other lives at the same time. Good thing I chose the right name for my blog.

There's so much joy and emotion I wonder if I will ever explode. I'm sure I entered the doll playing stage when I was two, like Clemmie is in the thick of right now, and I know watched my other kids love dolls as well, but that does not dampen my delight in watching Clementine discover her love of playing with "babies." In fact, it is perhaps more fun watching my last almost-two year old than it was my first. Now I know how much to appreciate it. I worry less. I am well aware now how quickly that stage, and all stages, pass. Before long, she won't sing "Hiya-Hiya" in the same sweet way she does now ("Hiya, hiya, Jesus hiya, Hiya, hiya, hiya, Lowa, lowa, Jesus hiya!"), or say with delight, "Shoe-y! Toad-y! Snake-y! Monkey!" quite the same way next month. And I use Clementine as the example because she changes so fast, but oh my, how proud I am of each child as they achieve each new accomplishment. Last night we watched what was my favorite movie growing up, in honor of the Olympics. When it was over, Cate asked Jude how he liked it (I wouldn't think a six year old boy would like a gymnastics movie). He gave a deep sigh and said, "I loved it." Ah, Jude. There is nothing more wonderful in life than sharing your favorite experiences with your children.

In five years my life will look so different from what it is now, and I am more than okay with that, in fact, I am delighted and I absolutely can't wait to see what life will bring. Though things don't always go well and many days, weeks, months, and years have been hard, I know for a fact that God has blessed every single day of my life. I'm so thankful that He loves and delights in His children every bit as much as I do mine.

 

Six year old boys

 

Yes, I knit Jude a Captain America Lego Minifigure for his birthday. For real. This was such a darling, fun knit. Okay, by the time I knit the second hand and the arm, it was getting to be a little less fun, but overall, it really wasn't too bad and fiddly. As you can see, all the pieces come apart, but unfortunately, they don't stay together too well, so I sewed on the head, and I occasionally safety pin his pants to his body. What can you do? Even knitting has its limitations. If I were truly ambitious, sewing a snap or perhaps velcro to the inside pieces would work well, I think. But, my knitting ambitions have their limits, believe it or not. Obviously, I changed the colors and design a bit in order to make it look like Captain America. It was such a fun gift for Jude's 6th birthday. He told me, "This is the best thing you ever sewed!" High praise from my little boy.

Jude actually made off pretty well this birthday- going to see Captain America Civil War with the family and friends, gifted a soft baseball set (softball has been all the rage over here- Cate is even joining a church league, and Gideon and Grace show up and play at all the practices; Rockies are on whenever there is a game), and, something I'm rather proud of, a Newsies costume. I put together the individual pieces on Amazon and hoped for the best when they all arrived- it came out pretty well, if I do say so myself. 

I have to tell you, I love five and six year old boys. I told Cate, Grace, and Evie to not be offended; it's not that I didn't enjoy that stage with them, but there's just something pretty special and fun about little boys at that age. At least, my two little boys so far. So fun, so funny, so tough, so sweet, so smart. What age do I not enjoy my kids, actually? Every year that goes by is better than the last. I got pretty bogged down in the toddler years, especially when I had multiple toddlers at once. I began to think I would never see the light of day and I would be stuck in two year old logic forever. Ben would walk in the door at night and I would cling to him, begging him to just talk to me in an adult voice. Then, one day I blinked and those toddlers were gone and in their place were the most wonderful people, and friends. Looking into the future isn't scary- it's exciting and I can't wait to see what it'll bring. I thought I would feel sadder about my kids growing up. I had no idea I would feel so much joy.

***I promise there are no more birthdays until August. Worn out? Yeah, me too.***

Gideon's 12th

This boy had a pretty great birthday- the highlight was going to see Newsies as a family in Denver at the Buell Theater. The Buell sits directly next to Boettcher Concert hall, and we all gave a fond wave to the backstage door Grace got to go through last August when she performed with the Colorado Symphony. We had actually bought tickets to Newsies and gave them as Christmas gifts- a great tradition that we will do again next year, I think. Such a memorable gift. Anyway, I purposely chose March 31 for the date to see the show so that we could double up on the celebrating on the day Gideon turned 12. We have been listening to the Newsies soundtrack for weeks now, and Jude and Truman like to dress like newsies now. Sometimes Gideon lets them borrow his hat. The show was amazing and we have continued to listen to the soundtrack when we clean the house each day. I promise, it makes each cleaner work twice as fast, that is, unless they get distracted dancing. 

Gideon is so much fun. I'm serious. Incredibly funny, witty, cracking jokes all the time, but old enough to know now to not draw attention to them and just wait to see if people notice. Great worker, smart as can be, fun to be around. He loves football and sports and watches them mostly with his grandpa, and throws a football with friends at every opportunity he gets. The second church is over, actually, he and his friends pull out the football and start up a game. He loves music, all kinds of styles, and plays piano well, really, really well. He has perfect pitch and has great rhythm and creativity when he improvises. He's a great big brother and loves all the funny things his younger siblings say and do. And, recently I have discovered when things don't go well for him, or a situation is not the way he likes it, he toughens up and goes through it with a smile, not letting on to anyone that he's disappointed. As if to say, "That's life, and I can't do anything about this, so I may as well go through with a smile to make the best of things." I wish his handwriting were better, and I wish he was a better speller, but he's taken it on himself this year in school to put a concerted effort into both and we've both seen the big improvement. On several occasions I have seen him praying for his sisters when he didn't know I was watching. My heart melted into a puddle. I have a feeling this boy will make many, many, people's hearts melt into a puddle throughout his lifetime. He's just that kind of a guy. I love him.

Birthday Party

Happy, happy, birthday, Little Miss Clementine Merriweather Davenport. And a happy, happy birthday to my aunt, Ruth, as well. The morning Clementine was born, Ben called up my Aunt Ruthie (that's what I've called her all my life, can't bear to call her anything else) and said, "Happy Birthday, Ruth!"

She said, surprised, "Why, how nice of you to remember!" (Ben and I aren't exactly known for keeping up with birthdays...I should change that...anyway:) 

Ben said, "I thought you might like to hear that you have a brand new baby niece to share a birthday with from now on."

Well, my aunt thought that was just wonderful. I could hear her delight through Ben's side of the conversation over the phone. My dad's side of the family is very sentimental like that, in a good way. They are the kind of people that stand in the driveway waving when you leave the house till long after the car is out of sight. They are the kind that call up and sing "happy birthday" to you on the phone, and if you don't answer, leave a message of them singing it instead. They are the thoughtful sort that thinks all birthdays are deserving of breakfast in bed, no matter what the age of the birthday person.

Of course I know this since I grew up in the same town as my aunt (and the rest of her family) and was always treated very special by them on my birthday, and so many other days. I thought it was great that Clementine shared a birthday with my aunt.

This year, for her first birthday, and Clementine's being the last one year birthday I would celebrate of my children, I wanted to make sure I did something special to commemorate it. And four days before her birthday, I came up with the perfect thing: a party for Clementine, with a surprise guest of honor, her aunt.

Naturally this fell on the weekend of Grace's big concert, with a camping trip to follow in a few days, and a humungous move to Denmark after that. It made perfect sense to throw everything together like that.

I'm impulsive, and I always have been. I could blame it on my husband's influence on me (he's the same way) but I'm afraid it wouldn't be fair to do that, since I have been this way my whole entire life. If an idea occurs to me I generally just try to do it without putting much thought into the logistics of it. 

By Sunday morning, the day the party was to take place, I had done basically nothing to prepare for the party, but between my parents, my sisters, and my kids, we had transformed the yard by noon and beautiful cakes, homemade pesto, zucchini from the garden, and fresh bread were all made. We brought our couch outside, a coffee table, and thanks to Grace's concert the night before, had several bouquets of flowers with which to decorate the tables in the yard.

It was such a lovely party.

I have to say, Clementine was the perfect one year old. She did exactly what one expects a one year old to do at their first birthday party, but seldom does. She was awake and cheerful through the entire thing. She visited with people and tolerated being held by, what were to her, strangers. No, she didn't blow out her candle, but she was wide eyed and happy to stare at it in a mesmerized fashion.

She immediately grabbed the raspberries off the plate and popped them in her mouth, despite all the faces staring at her and cameras aimed at her (I've known many a baby to burst into tears at this point or be completely camera shy and just sit there, uncertain what to do). She picked at the cake and smeared frosting over herself, and plopped most of it on the ground, to the delight and entertainment of her guests. Hardly a bite was actually eaten.

Once cleaned up, she sat on Grace's lap for the opening of the gifts, and seemed to know exactly how to open them, and that we all expected her to. She tore open the paper and inspected the box to see what was inside. She appropriately appreciated each gift by hugging the stuffed animals, admiring the new dress, glancing curiously at the new duplos, and adoring the new books. One stuffed animal, a giant stuffed fish, she did not appreciate. She seemed frightened by its large eyes and mouth and pushed it away, frustrated. This, however, brought a rousing laugh out of everyone, so she continued those antics for quite some time.

In summary, the party went just how I had hoped it would, and had worried it wouldn't the night before, when I realized all the preparation that needed to be done the next day.

Clementine, my darling, I've loved every day that you have been with us, from the moment I first knew I was expecting you, to your birth, to your very first birthday, and every day in between. You bring joy and delight to all those around you and we are so privileged to have you in our family. It's been a year now, that I've enjoyed looking into the lives of my seven children. At times it's crazy, hectic, loud, messy, and disorganized, but at other times it's peaceful, cozy, fun, fascinating, educational, and comforting. I wouldn't wish for my life to be any other way than what it is right now, mothering these seven darlings every single day.

One

Oh my sweet baby Clementine is one today. A birthday candle in her scrambled eggs, with raspberries on the side, because those are her two favorite foods. Xoxo, baby girl. You beauty, who loves shoes, wearing them and trying to put them on, regardless of who they belong to. Who loves to try to brush her sister's hair, who loves to try to push dolly in the stroller, who loves to pretend to talk on the phone, who loves to exclaim "uh-oh!" when appropriate, who loves to shriek "Hi!" when people walk in the door, who loves to hear our exclamations when you take a step or two to us all on your own.

I have two long posts to write- one about Grace's concert (which went so perfectly- in every way possible) and one about the sweet party we had for Clementine and my aunt, who share the same birthday. And I have to pack for a camping trip, after which I have to pack for Denmark- we leave for three months next Wednesday. 

For now I am just revealing in my baby girl's very first birthday.