tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-167751612024-03-14T03:33:33.197-04:00Fields of GreenTaylorhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12939226046456925797noreply@blogger.comBlogger659125tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-16775161.post-25796637750002813232016-05-27T15:42:00.001-04:002016-05-27T15:42:22.469-04:00The story of her nameWinslow Morley. It's kind of a big name for such a tiny, sweet girl, which is why we've been calling her Winnie.
Her middle name is after her four-greats grandma, whose name was Lady Jane Anne Morley. Her first name has been handed down to many of the beautiful women on my mom's side as a middle name. We almost used Anne (we [fine, I] hesitated sharing her name at first Taylorhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12939226046456925797noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-16775161.post-61220074473214126312015-12-23T12:05:00.003-05:002015-12-23T12:05:42.095-05:00Santa 2015
My girl holding Santa's hand.
Oh, Santa. Thank you for giving us a little moment of magic.
There is a house down the street from us with a family who loves Christmas. They have a massive light display all over their yard and they let people come from miles around to walk around their yard and they are so kind that Santa even visits on the weekend.
Sweet Pea Taylorhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12939226046456925797noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-16775161.post-45820300266139506522015-11-04T15:00:00.002-05:002015-11-04T15:00:36.898-05:00Halloween 2015A "Fairy Princess Riding a Unicorn" and a "Dragon."
I'm still laughing. Peanut thought he was the scariest and sweetest dragon in the world. True to just-turned-two form, he caught on to trick-or-treating awfully fast. He loved stomping all "scary" up the walk, saying "tick-teee", getting his treat, then yelling, "HAP-HA-EEEEEN!" He kind of stole of the show at every Taylorhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12939226046456925797noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-16775161.post-3589527680796824302015-01-06T20:19:00.000-05:002015-01-06T20:19:23.330-05:00Snow dayJust a sneaky snow day. The kind that started with hearing about maybe flurries and suddenly you wakes up to inches of powdered sugar.
So we tried to play, but didn't last long. It was cold!
Maybe I over did it just a touch
He just cracked us up in that snow suit. He really couldn't move, and would just flop over and get stuck like a beached whale. Taylorhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12939226046456925797noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-16775161.post-83148202545819050662015-01-05T21:32:00.003-05:002015-01-05T21:32:52.108-05:00How big and still so smallOh Lord, don't let me forget.
Don't let me forget the way he giggled, always giggles, all through his bath.
How he wiggled with smiles during his after-bath kisses, the horse one and the nose one and the fish one and especially the doggie one.
How he chose his books and sat so quietly for a page or two, my voice quickening to help him make it through to the end. It's hard to make it to Taylorhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12939226046456925797noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-16775161.post-84426191017067196392014-07-10T01:14:00.000-04:002014-07-10T01:14:14.548-04:00Blue Blueberries Oh, blueberry farm. How I dreamed of you all through that long, cold, dark winter. How I longed for those quiet, remote fields of nothing but bird and bugs and those sweet little spots of edible sunshine. It seemed almost too good to be true that at last we could go back and pick berries in the hot summer sun, sweat dripping and sun burning and sweetness tasting. We Taylorhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12939226046456925797noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-16775161.post-88434720067258581692014-07-10T00:29:00.000-04:002014-07-10T11:17:46.226-04:008 monthsMy Sweetest of Wilds,
I think of you and I only see smiles. I see your sweet, happy, gummy little grin. I see the smiles you put on your sister's face, your daddy's face, your grandpa's face. I see the smile Bean has just for you. Mostly, I feel the smiles of my own.
All anyone has to do is look at you and you smile back, kicking your little feet and, if I'm holdingTaylorhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12939226046456925797noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-16775161.post-20562397544569088902014-05-09T13:54:00.000-04:002014-07-10T00:25:07.378-04:006 MonthsDear sweet Wilder,
Six months have passed since the precious evening you entered the world. I remember wondering before you came if it would be hard to remember the night you were born, if I would confuse it with the night your sister was born. Not a chance. I remember every detail; the tiles I counted on the floor and the ceiling while contractions passed, the rising panic in Taylorhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12939226046456925797noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-16775161.post-29010597892992295572014-04-01T00:21:00.001-04:002014-04-01T00:30:14.642-04:00First FoodI so wanted to wait until he was 6 months old. I wanted his brand-new babyness to last as long as possible. But I can't keep up with this kid! Peanut nurses around the clock, every three hours; sometimes more, rarely a bit less. And he certainly does not sleep through the night. So we decided to give rice cereal a try last weekend and it was a hit!
He seemed to knowTaylorhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12939226046456925797noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-16775161.post-3102735577077055922014-03-11T23:48:00.000-04:002014-03-11T23:48:15.346-04:00Fields of Green
It's dark. It's blurry. It's noisy. But this little snapshot is everything that is so, so good right now.
Late this afternoon I put my tiny baby in our old jogging stroller and buttoned the little girl's coat and we walked across a cornfield to my mama's house.
Because we just moved in next door. Next door to my mama and daddy. Taylorhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12939226046456925797noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-16775161.post-5097471018326619112014-02-06T00:51:00.000-05:002014-02-06T00:51:11.269-05:00Notes from all overI don't know how they do it.
I did it for so long, early on. When it was just me home for the first time and a tiny girl who slept for so many hours and my hubby worked three jobs and went to school, I did it. I took pictures and I edited them and I loaded them and I organized them and I blogged them. I made beautiful, hardbound memory books. I kept the house fairly Taylorhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12939226046456925797noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-16775161.post-29321575838576530462014-01-08T14:20:00.000-05:002014-01-08T14:20:14.191-05:00Two MonthsDear my sweet baby,
I don't know why, but all throughout my pregnancy with you had this feeling that you were going to be my joy-baby. Your sister, who is my delight-baby, was obviously sweet and precious in her own right. She was introverted though, even when she was tiny. You, on the other hand, started trying to smile from day one and you haven't stopped. Your dimplesTaylorhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12939226046456925797noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-16775161.post-78036981898135022652013-12-21T00:03:00.001-05:002015-01-06T20:26:11.346-05:00Wilder's Birth StoryThe doctor came in, listened to the baby's heartbeat, then did a quick "sweep" to see if it might help move things along. She said if it worked something would happen in the next 48 hours, but she didn't seem or sound very convinced that anything would happen.
When she left and I got dressed, I thought I felt something trickling. I went to the restroom, then went to the front desk Taylorhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12939226046456925797noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-16775161.post-49559390690730027992013-12-20T23:43:00.001-05:002013-12-20T23:43:29.257-05:00One MonthWell...ahem...6 weeks. Really more like 6.5. Or seven and two days, if you're going by the day of the week you were born. Oof.
My dear, sweet Wild-man,
I've put off writing this first-month letter to you because I knew I wouldn't know where to begin. All of the thoughts and feelings of my mother-heart sound trite when I start with, "I can't believe you are already a Taylorhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12939226046456925797noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-16775161.post-58591214638265829792013-11-12T20:43:00.003-05:002013-11-12T20:43:47.455-05:00Called by Name"But now the Lord Who made you, O Jacob, and He Who made you, O Israel, says, “Do not be afraid. For I have bought you and made you free. I have called you by name. You are Mine!" Isaiah 43:1
Names are desperately important to me. I've always taken them very seriously. Maybe a little too seriously...my favorite childhood stuffed animal went through years of name changes before Taylorhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12939226046456925797noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-16775161.post-67682307863703895782013-11-12T20:30:00.001-05:002013-11-12T20:44:04.292-05:00Welcome, Wilder!Our sweet, sweet boy was born October 30th at 8:22 pm after a safe and pretty quick delivery, weighing 7 lbs, 8 oz and 20 inches long. He is the quietest, most content newborn and we all love him to pieces! So far, this has all been too perfect.
Taylorhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12939226046456925797noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-16775161.post-59801473558685059702013-10-24T16:53:00.002-04:002013-10-24T16:53:50.592-04:00Belly Paint
My mom had this adorable idea a long time ago to have Sweet Pea finger paint my belly. It kept not happening, because I kept forgetting, and then one day last week Hubby dropped home early in between clients and even though it was rainy outside I decided we were randomly going to let Sweet Pea paint and he was going to photograph it.
We had a blast. She had a blast. Taylorhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12939226046456925797noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-16775161.post-45098454418062054802013-10-24T15:12:00.001-04:002013-12-21T00:43:31.291-05:00Waiting gameThe day I was induced with Sweet Pea was pretty stressful. I was 36 weeks and change pregnant, and while I expected something wasn't right for over a week before my doctors finally figured everything out, walking into my doctor's office at 9 am on a Monday and hearing "Whoa! Your liver is freaking out and you need to go to the hospital and have this baby right now" wasn't what I was Taylorhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12939226046456925797noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-16775161.post-62029315493637791642013-10-22T23:17:00.000-04:002013-10-22T23:17:15.711-04:00ChangeOne time a friend asked a group of friends to describe what we each love most in life in one word. He basically wanted one descriptive word of what we value most. It was hard to pinpoint for me, but the bottom line is that I'm a stop-and-smell-the-roses kind of girl. I love quality time with those I love and I love to gather up moments and store them up in my heart and Taylorhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12939226046456925797noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-16775161.post-12515860738639399072013-10-20T10:00:00.000-04:002013-10-20T10:00:02.148-04:00ReadyI think I've accomplished everything on the list.
The boppy and the swing are out of storage.
The newborn clothes are washed.
We embellished onesies and I made upcycled pants.
The Moses basket is in place.
The double stroller has been purchased.
The car seats are set up.
We have a van. (A van!)
I have diapers stashed all over the house.
And burp cloths.
His room is ready, picturesTaylorhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12939226046456925797noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-16775161.post-17109380688684696682013-10-19T22:55:00.000-04:002013-10-19T22:55:31.864-04:00Pumpkins and Family Time We went to the pumpkin patch today because A. I'm still not in labor and B. I hoped carrying pumpkins might put me in labor and C. We needed our pumpkin before little man's debut.
It's October! We have to have pumpkins!
Funny though...the whole day it felt like someone was missing. Maybe because I remember taking my tiny new baby girl to the same pumpkin patch three years ago, it Taylorhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12939226046456925797noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-16775161.post-76482310192527094992013-10-18T12:28:00.001-04:002013-10-18T12:28:51.294-04:00PancakesJust because she's pretty in the light of our dining room eating pancakes.
Taylorhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12939226046456925797noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-16775161.post-13186830855893992502013-10-18T12:26:00.003-04:002013-10-18T12:26:52.415-04:00SneakySometimes I'm somewhere else in the house and I just hear giggles. Giggles and silly Daddy voice.
So I sneak a peek.
Little moments like these make our life perfect.
And we get them every day.
Taylorhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12939226046456925797noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-16775161.post-3531143058233757352013-10-18T01:09:00.000-04:002013-10-18T01:09:02.060-04:0037 weeksIt had to happen. HAD to. I couldn't go into labor until it did.
Family maternity pictures.
I get unduly stressed about taking family photos. It feels like there's a lot of pressure, like my own images of my own family have to be especially perfect. I get weirdly stressed about what to wear, even though I happily and easily give advice to clients about what to wear. &Taylorhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12939226046456925797noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-16775161.post-79782064852308254832013-10-11T23:10:00.000-04:002013-10-17T23:18:15.997-04:00Slumber SprinkleMy BFF Stacy hosted a baby "sprinkle" for our new little man. I was adamant that people not spoil us, but spoil us they did anyway.
I had no idea how badly I needed that night with those girls. Stacy told everyone to come in their PJ's, which was brilliant, especially because it turned out to be a dark and stormy night. We had mocktails and chips and dip and the chocolate Taylorhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12939226046456925797noreply@blogger.com1