I opened my eyes.  I remember.  I cry.  Time passes as I pray, remember, pray, write, pray, hope. Brad comes downstairs, ready for work.  I love this man.  I think, I am so lucky to have, to live, this little life of mine. I start my morning with an hour of Maren snuggles.  She asks for a Poptart for breakfast, I agree that this is indeed a Poptart kind of day.  She...

Sing-a-ma-jig.  “cinnamanajug” “I actshallee want an apple for lunch, Mom.” “Frosty the Snowman was a very jobby soul, with a blow pipe pipe and a button nose and two eyes made out of coal…” “Can I have candy for bessert please?”

Maren has taken to identifying seemingly random events in her life as “the best, ever.” A day spent in pajama’s: the best, ever. Spaghetti for dinner: the best, ever. Hosting a playdate with two friends: the best, ever. Going to Disney Princess’ on Ice with Aunt Kate: the best, ever. “One’s first book, kiss, home run is always the...

Things I loved about Maren today: -She is really good at Guess Who.  We play competitively.  Today I was explaining the final strategy point about picking the most generic people: the men with brown eyes and no accessories. -She played school with her class for at least an hour by herself.  As I busied myself around the house I heard her muttering under her breath...