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happy birthday otto fox. you make seven lucky.
Half past midnight. I’m rolling over, reaching to turn out the light when I see it. A six-year-old elbow with a substantial scratch. Unfamiliar to me. I don’t recall kissing it or tending to it and that somehow hurts me a little. Gently I lift that sleeping arm, hold it to the light, examine it for a minute. I place my lips on that scratched boy elbow and kiss his boo boo. I shift around so I can stare at his boy face in this soft night time light. Today, this exact day, he grew up a bit. Today, he changed. He’s already tan for the summer. Hair already…
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Happiest of Birthdays my Little Piper Finn
You guys. Despite our absolutely telling her to stop – this kid of ours named Piper Finnian Willow Lacey has been growing up. Right before our eyes. It hurts my heart, I tell you. Hurts my heart something fierce. She is SEVEN. I know it’s the lament of every parent at every birthday. But I just can’t believe how quickly these years keep piling up. I was going to spend this post writing sweet things about my girl. But I got distracted when I typed her name in my “search” button and began reading the snippets of her life from this blog. She is so funny. Always has been. And so…
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Yesterday.
I couldn’t just talk about Hawkeye on one day only. The kid’s so cute, he deserves a day or two, right? We had a plan for his birthday – we really did. Bergen asked to go on a hike and we were only too happy to oblige such a simple and sweet request. However, the rain had other plans for us. And so did the strep throats that three of our chaps were sporting. Instead, we postponed the hike for Saturday and spent the day being a lot more flexible. At the breakfast table Bergen was served his breakfast of choice – waffles with homemade cream, topped off with one…
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april 18
Happy Birthday Bergen Hawkeye. Every morning when you wake up with your moppy blonde hair sitting directly over your keen blue eyes, I think to myself – I could not love you any more than I do right now. My heart is virtually bursting with affection for you. And then the day passes. And every night I tuck you into your bed, quilt underneath, quilt on top, shaggy hair still a rowdy mess, eyes still piercing blue, I think to myself – I love you even more tonight than I did this morning. You are amazing. Happy Birthday Seven!
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6 + 1 = 7
Yesterday Mosely was six years old. Today she is seven. (Blink. Blink.) How did this happen? Happy Birthday Mosely. I hope you enjoy your Barbie birthday cake and your pink and purple star pinata. Mosely Turns Seven from Lacey Keigley on Vimeo.
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Do the Math
So Jon said something recently that made me realize a sort of sad fact. A depressing numbers game. I was changing a diaper. (That’s no surprise. No surprise.) And that’s what he said, actually. Jon said, “Hey. You are pretty good at that, eh?” (Well. Maybe Jon didn’t say “eh”. I like to say “eh” though. So I thought maybe me-quoting-Jon-speaking-in-my-blog should say “eh”. Eh?) So Jon said, “Hey. You are pretty good at that, eh? Because you know, you’ve been doing that for, what, seven years?” I laughed at his exaggeration. Seven years? Yeah. Sure. That’s crazy. Seven years. Wait. Seven years. Yes. London is now seven years old.…
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Seven is Sweet
Oh Seven. You are fun. When you turn 7 here we set out the treasured Special Special Day Plate. And you get to eat your meal upon that plate. And you get to choose the meal. No matter what you want. We will all eat it. Even if you pick macaroni & meat with a side of mashed potatoes and an additional side of peas. You also get to watch Dad decorate your cake. And you get away with being a bit rowdy and having icing squirted inside your mouth. And maybe you even get a little help cleaning that icing from your face. You also get to decide what…
