lucky.

I'm a lucky girl. I could spend all day writing about how blessed I am, but I'll leave it at that. These pictures remind me of it, though.

I love Ben's hair. It's all over the place. It's darker than everyone thought it'd be, since Chris and I were so fair-haired when we were little. When I take Ben for walks, I love looking at the little pattern his hair makes. It's almost a perfect circle.


I've condensed some of his books and toys into a nice collection that fits into the bottom part of the dining room hutch. This way when I'm making his meals, he can be in the dining room and I won't worry about him getting into trouble. He likes the blocks, and his Sesame Street push-car, stacking cups... everything. He's always very busy. I took this picture because I love watching him when he's playing by himself. He's always thinking about what he's going to do next. He's not content to just sit and play. He's scheming and planning and figuring things out.


And the swings. I've said it before, but they never get old. Ben was fussy on this day, but he smiled for a little while before we went home for dinner. I think his facial expressions are funny.


On this day he was tired enough and sluggish enough that he kept his hood on, rather than tugging it off. I talk to him all the time in the car, whenever we go anywhere. I sing songs and reach back and squeeze his legs. He was zoned out and wasn't interested in being goofy with his mother.


There was a town-wide yard sale this past Saturday in Chris' parents' neighborhood. We slept over Friday night and had a nice time with everyone. This was taken Saturday after Ben woke from his morning nap. This could be my favorite time with him - when he first wakes up. It's before he gets busy and has things to do... He lets me hold him close and talk to him and he leans on me. The best part? Sometimes he turns around and looks up at me and smiles. It's the little things.


When I was in 9th grade, the (tactful) brother of a boy I liked told me that you could probably lay bricks on my forehead. I had totally awesome Jersey-style, hairsprayed bangs at the time, but I now see what he meant. Oh well.