blessed beyond measure

Take two. Don't ask about take one. It was bad. Let's all just take a moment in recognition of the crock pot, shall we? I ♥ my crock pot. s. Crock pots. I mean, come on. Dump a bunch of stuff in, forget about it, and hours later open the lid to gourmet deliciousness. How could it get any better? This recipe comes from my beloved Southern Living Slow Cooker cookbook. How I have missed the recipe all these years, who knows? Trey found it one day, going through all of my cookbooks. He says, "Ohhh, that wooks deeeewishus!" And I agree. I'm on a bit of a spinach kick lately. When February take one went awry, and then when a meal almost exactly like this one was recommended on one of my favorite blogs , it was bumped to the top of my new-recipes-to-try list. Tomato Florentine Soup 3 c vegetable broth 1 c chopped onion 10 oz frozen chopped spinach, thawed and squeezed 1 quart (2 cans) tomatoes, diced, undrained 1 can tomato sauce dash or 4 italian seasoning...

Happy Birthday Daddy! Brandon, we love you so much! Just improving with age...

By no means could this post be alternately titled, Brotherhood: Mama-has-a-nervous-breakdown-prompting-three-year-old-to-take-over-parental-responsibilities edition. I don't throw fits in front of my kids. Never. (If you're wondering about the "song" Trey is singing to Aden, it is a takeoff of Brandon's chant in the first video of this post .) (And while you're there you may happen to note that Trey and Aden are starting to look a little bit alike. It's the smile.)

I have mentioned before, several times, Aden's utter adoration for Trey. Any skeptics can check out Aden's face. Now you know.

I stole the concept. MckMama does a stream of consciousness series on her blog. I couldn't steal the title from her too, so I stole it in part from this book . And yes, I am like spaghetti. Or, I think like spaghetti. You know. I don't really look like spaghetti. I do like spaghetti, though. Seems maybe I write the way I think anyway, so the title might just be a formality. Anyway. On nice-weather days when I am working in the office, I use my lunch-half-hour to walk. My mile-and-a-quarter path takes me through parts of the campus, past a small collection of shops, by the massive colonial houses of historic town, and lastly to a park, where I pause to watch the families, ache to be with my boys, then turn around and head back. One of the shops is a florist. Passing by yesterday, I saw a line of minivans and SUVs parked alongside the road, hatches and doors open, dozens of "I love you" balloons whipping in the wind, and hundreds of red roses waiting to be de...

OK, maybe I cheated a tad . I confess that the googly eyes were not in my craft stash. Bought those. Which may or may not have negated the savings of homemade valentines. Still. The owl idea was not my own, as usual. First I saw a valentine from a box with an owl on it, saying "You're a hoot!" Then I happened to notice that one of Aden's crib sheets has a print with owls that look similar to what we made. Anyhoo, the idea just took shape. I grabbed the scissors and started cutting. And kept cutting. Meanwhile, Trey worked very hard to address each valentine, and I am so proud of him for tracing letters so well. He also enjoyed sorting the shapes for gluing, then using up two whole glue sticks (!) to put these guys together. A lot of work. A lot of fun. Though we'll likely tend toward the simpler when Aden has to start making valentines too. ( And thank you, Kristie, for your suggestion. The thought of giving Trey glitter scares me to my very core, but...

Trey, Aden, and I are hanging out on my bed. This is one of our many play areas throughout the house. The boys can roll and tumble, jump and dance, and Trey will often "read" the Bible to us. So Trey is reading my Bible, and has set my bulletin from church on the bed. Aden rrrrreeeaches as far as he can, grabs a page from the bulletin, and starts chewing on it. I calmly and quietly fuss at Aden, "No, Aden, we don't eat paper!" and set it aside. Trey smiles. And proceeds to somewhat discreetly nudge another page of the bulletin toward Aden, who of course picks it up and chows down. I again fuss a little, again remove the page from Aden's grasp. Trey. Cracks. Up. And proceeds to somewhat discreetly nudge another page of the bulletin toward Aden. Who... You know how it goes. Big brother getting much amusement from the misbehavior of little brother. And so it begins. I would say poor Aden , but we're all pretty sure that when Aden goes mobile, he...

At eight months, Aden: - Usually sleeps on his belly. - Flirts. Gets it honest. Girls just love him. - Is not a huge fan of juice, but it's still new. Has had beets, which he didn't appreciate too much; tea, which he loved; part of a croissant, which he loved; mushy grapes, which he loved; cinnamon coffee cake, which he loved; and puffs, which he loved. We're getting there. - Still isn't crawling just yet, but it won't be long. Now instead of lunging forward from his knees, he stays on his knees and stares at his hands. Perhaps giving them a mental pep talk. - Loves Trey. There is absolutely no way to describe Aden's love for his big brother. Whenever Trey pays him any attention, Aden's little body just trembles as he kicks his legs, flaps his arms, and laughs. - Likes wrestling. Aden is one tough kid. Almost all of his cries are hunger or sleep or frustration related. No pain. - Can pretty reliably sit on his own. This is just magical. He loves...

"Mama, can I read your biiiiig Bible?" "Juice? Really, Mama? I'm making the sign for milk !" "This is the best ice cream ever!!" (Thank you, Soy Dream people, for making milk-free ice cream sandwiches.) "Mama, me and Aden, well we're just chillin." "I'm sitting by myself. No one's touching me. I'm a free man!!" "Wook at the snow! Can we go get the swed?" "You will NOT put clothes on me. I mean, why would you even want to? Feast your eyes, ladies. It's a beautiful thing." No cute caption, but worth noting that the ONLY time Brandon thinks it's OK for me to coordinate outfits is for sporting events. These are Daddy's biggest fans.