I was always a Daddy's Girl. I loved to be wherever my dad was. I loved the feel of his face after he shaved, the sound of his voice, even the smell of him.

I miss him. I miss him at strange times, not when you'd expect it. I didn't miss him at our wedding or at the birth of our boys. I did miss him, though, when I opened his tackle box six years after he had died and the finger nail clippers he always used to cut the fishing line were open like he'd just used them. I miss him when Tim is outside grilling and my mama is helping me in the kitchen and I know that, if my dad was here, he'd be out there, standing around the grill, talking about whatever it is guys talk about when they stand around the grill. I miss him when our boys are being particularly ornery because I know, if he was here, he would encourage them!! I miss him when my mama goes places by herself and I know she wishes he could go with her....

...but I wouldn't change the story. I couldn't change the story because, if I changed even one part of the story, it would change the whole thing. It's all part of who I am and who I am becoming. I'm even thankful for the story.

"...and I know there'll be days when this life brings me pain, but if
that's what it takes to praise you...Jesus bring the rain!!"--Mercy Me

My mama and I took the two bigs to Colts Camp today at Rose Hulman. It was pretty cool to watch them practice. Ezra was not a happy camper most of the time we were there because he really thought he was there to play football with them. I know, it sounds cute, but it wasn't actually cute at all. He was a mess. He wanted to know where the locker room was and where his pads and helmet were. He did not want to do any of the fun kid things such as bouncy tents or slides because HE WAS THERE TO PLAY FOOTBALL!!! Grammie was trying to buy him a souvenir, and he was out of his mind because he wanted the lady at the counter to give him his pads and helmet. It was so bad that, after he calmed down, he had to go back to the lady and tell her sorry for the way he acted. I know with everything in me that this passion will one day serve the kingdom of God in incredible ways, but this exhausted mama is having trouble seeing the big picture today.

Is this what it means to be the mama??

I was looking for a recent picture of myself to put on my new blog profile. The last one I have is from a couple of years ago, and, well, one baby and a few haircuts later, I look a little different.

So, in all of my 9 GB of photos, this is the only recent picture I have of myself. I guess I'm usually the one taking the pictures, so this random shot when Isaac was pretending to be a photographer is as good as it gets.

The more I look at it, though, the more I like it. I think it shows the real me, don't you?

A Conversation...

..between me and ezra

mama: what's your favorite thing about daddy?
ezra: he plays baseball with me

mama: who's your favorite friend?
ezra: isaac

mama: what's your favorite thing to do?
ezra: skunk

mama: what do you want to be when you grow up?
ezra: a youth 'mister' and a golfer

...and then he promptly picked a booger and tried to put it on my face.

If you'd like to read about our lives prior to July 2008, go here.