a |short| letter to my biggest boy

Dearest Mikey-Mike-Mikerton,

Thanks for loving me always. I love being on this adventure with ya! Thanks for getting down & dirty in the mud (run) with me and for pulling crazy long night hours working at the white house by yourself on top of your full-time job and for dreaming and planning with me. You're a special one, and I'm glad that you're mine only! Cheers to nightly family walks, park dates, crazy / stupid runs and the beginning of another summer together. 

All my love always,

mc mc 

a [birthday] letter to my mikey

Happiest [29th] birthday to you, my biggest boy! I sure do love you & love doing this life with you. You, my Mikey, are home to me. We've had a cra-zy year of moving, traveling, are soon to be adding another arrow to our quiver and are in the process of renovating a 100 year old house...know that there ain't nobody else I'd rather be doing this with. I've loved watching you be quite the adventurer over the past year...from relay races to a crazy 50k for this years birthday...you amaze me mister. I've also loved watching your eyes light up when you talk about the white house and our growing family. Mikey, you love us well. It makes my heart so happy to hear you wrestling the boys before bed, to know you've snuck out of bed an hour early in the mornings for time in the Word or to chisel away at work that needs to be done across the street, for you to be able to come home for lunch on almost any given work day (again), to watch the boys watching out the window for you at the end of the day, to sneak away for long weekends with you when we can (just the two of us), to plan and dream about the future (near and far) with you. I hope that you've felt special as we've celebrated your birthday slowly over the past week and that you wake up feeling extra special tomorrow (like "king of the world" status). My hope for this year is the same as last year -- that you are challenged and stretched, that you grow, that you are content and happy, that you are blessed beyond measure and that you know how treasured you are (and not just by us, but especially by us).

Moose, Solly (& BM3) & I can't wait to celebrate you all day!

a [birthday] letter to my mikey

[one of my new very favorite pictures of us - ever.]

Dear, sweet Mikey of mine. In honor of your upcoming birthday and weekend of birthday festivities, I just wanted to tell you that I love you. You are so very special to me and I am reminded daily just how fortunate I am to call you mine-all-mine. Can you believe this will be our 11th year celebrating your birthday together?! (#weareold) Mister, I love being on this adventure with you. You're my favorite travel buddy, my biggest fan, my not-so-consistent workout partner (unless it comes to running), my baby daddy, my opposite in every way, my take on the world very best friend. Thank you for taking on the world with me - for not being afraid to trust what the Lord has for us, even when it's not always clear or easy to see. Thank you for always praying for our family and for leading us. Thank you for being brave in parenting these two little hood rats ones with me. Thank you for loving me, for pursing me, for still be interested in me as Mc, not just the mama of your boys. You and me...we've got a good thing going and there ain't nobody in this world I'd rather be doing this with. I hope that over the next few days you feel especially loved and celebrated and that over the next year you are challenged and stretched, that you grow, that you are content and happy, that you are blessed beyond measure and that you know how treasured you are (and not just by us, but especially by us). 

Happy [early] birthday, big one! C'mon Saturday so we can bust outta here!!!! 

sit stilll

I Go Among Trees and Sit Still

by 

Wendell Berry

I go among trees and sit still.

All my stirring becomes quiet 

around me like circles on water.

My tasks lie in their places

 where I left them, asleep like cattle.
Then what is afraid of me comes

 and lives a while in my sight.

What it fears in me leaves me,

 and the fear of me leaves it.

It sings, and I hear its song.

Then what I am afraid of comes.

 I live for a while in its sight.

What I fear in it leaves it,

 and the fear of it leaves me.

It sings, and I hear its song.

After days of labor,

 mute in my consternations,

I hear my song at last,

 and I sing it. As we sing,

the day turns, the trees move.