Ariella's Mama

  There are moments in grief that feel bigger than you expect them to. Today was one of those moments. Standing there looking at my mom’s stone, I realized something I wasn’t prepared for — how strange it feels for love so big to suddenly have a place attached to it. A place with grass and trees and dates carved into stone. Because moms aren’t supposed to fit into stone. They’re supposed to be phone calls, advice you didn’t ask for, favorite recipes, random memories that hit you in grocery store aisles, and the voice in your head reminding you to bring a jacket. Her stone isn’t perfect yet. There are still things being fixed and replaced. But grief isn’t perfect either. And maybe that’s why today mattered. Because even through the imperfections, what stood out wasn’t the stone itself — it was the words: “Her love lives on in her children.” And it does. In the way I parent. In the stories I tell. In the parts of me that still sound like her. In the love that keeps showi...

      Some of the sweetest memories are the ones you never plan for. Today wasn’t anything big or exciting. We were outside enjoying a beautiful day, soaking up the sunshine and fresh air, when she discovered rhubarb for the first time. Not a toy. Not a fancy outing. Just a piece of rhubarb from the garden and the happiest little reaction. Watching her face light up over something so simple reminded me how much joy exists in everyday moments. As adults, we rush through so many things, but babies remind us to slow down. To notice. To laugh. To experience things for the very first time again. There’s something special about watching your child discover the world — even when that world is just a backyard, a porch swing, and rhubarb. I know years from now I probably won’t remember what chores needed done today or what was on my to-do list. But I think I’ll remember her smile, the way she held onto that rhubarb like it was the greatest treasure she had ever found, and the way ...

 Some memories aren’t made in big moments — they happen quietly in backyards, during ordinary afternoons, and in the middle of everyday life. This was one of those days. Just sunshine, overalls, tiny hands, and a little frog friend that somehow made an ordinary afternoon feel like something I never want to forget.    This day was simple. Backyard grass, denim overalls, tiny socks, and a little frog friend that somehow became the center of attention.  Nothing extraordinary happened, but I'm learning those are usually the moments that stay with me the longest.  I watched curious blue eyes take in the world around her, her tiny hands holding on to her favorite things, and little smiles appear over something as small as a frog sitting on a mushroom while sitting in the grass. It reminded me how magical ordinary days can look through the eyes of my daughter.  Motherhood has changed the way I see moments like these. What once would have felt like another afternoo...

 

  This years Thanksgiving looked a little different... softer, sweeter, and dressed in the cutest little turkey outfit you've ever seen.  It was Ariella's very first Thanksgiving, and she dressed for the occasion in a crocheted turkey hat that Grandma Kris made her (complete with the adorable little feathers) and a cozy turkey onesie that basically turned her into the star of the whole holiday. I mean... how could she not be? She was the tiniest turkey in the room!  She spent most of the day being passed around like the most precious Thanksgiving side dish. Everyone commented on her strawberry-blonde fuzz peeking out from under that turkey hat and her sweet, calm spirit. And of course, the moment Grandpa held her, she and him were inseparable. As a new mama, this Thanksgiving felt extra meaningful. My heart felt full in a way I didn't even know it could. God has been teaching me that gratitude isn't just something we say before dinner   — it's the way we breathe...

  This year was Ariella's very first Halloween, and she was the most adorable little mushroom you've ever seen  — matching red cap with her daddy and all. Matt and I dressed up to match the woodland vibe: he was her matching forest guide, and I went  full deer mama, antlers and all. Honestly? We were a whole autumn scene walking down the sidewalk.  We visited a few houses just to experience the fun of it for our girl. Ariella didn't quite understand what trick-or-treating meant, but she LOVED all the attention she was getting. Every person melted over her mushroom cap   — and who can blame them?  One of the sweetest moments of the night came from getting a crocheted monster that came from Grandma Kris. She nailed Halloween this year, just like every other one. Ariella, I'd like to think thought it was her Halloween sidekick.  After our loop around the neighborhoods, we spent some time with grandparents, aunts, and uncles. They got their fill of ba...

  If fall had a mascot, I'm pretty sure it would look exactly like this.  There's something about seeing Ariella all bundled up in her pumpkin pajamas, smiling with that scrunched little nose, that makes my heart do somersaults. I mean... come on  — a knitted pumpkin hat with a stem? It doesn't get any cuter.  This morning as I laid her on the blanket and she started waving those little arms, I couldn't help but laugh. She has this way of lighting up even the gloomiest autumn day —  like a tiny sunshine wrapped in orange corduroy.  Fall has always been one of my favorite seasons — warm drinks, cozy blankets, the smell of cinnamon drifting through the house — but this year, it feels completely new. Now I get to experience it through Ariella's eyes (and drooly pumpkin smiles). We've traded pumpkin spice lattes for pumpkin giggles, and honestly... it's a pretty sweet upgrade.  So here's to our first official pumpkin season together. May it ...

  "Sometimes the smallest things take up the most room in your heart." - A.A. Milne  There's something sacred about the way she looks at me. No words, no need for them — just eyes full of wonder and the kind of quiet trust that reaches deep into my soul.     This was one of those unexpected, heart-stealing moments. I wasn't trying to pose or capture anything specific. I was just holding my baby girl, and she was looking right into me  — like she already knows I'm her safe place, her mama, her home.  Fro the soft stretch of her bow to the way her tiny hands rested gently on my chest... I felt the kind of love that rewrites everything. The kind you can't explain until you've lived it.  This is what Mommy & Me means to me: Love wrapped in leopard print and soft fabric.  Arms made for holding. A glance that says, "We've got each other."  I don't know how many of these moments I'll be able to freeze in time, but I'm holding this on...

  Dear Diary,  The humans have done it again.  They brought home this tiny, wiggly creature weeks ago and I'm still not convinced she's not a glorified noise machine. One minute she's squeaking like a broken bird toy, the next she's cooing like she's in charge of the kingdom.  And the worst part? Everyone's acting like she's the cutest thing ever.  HELLO  — I've been cute since birth. I don't drool. I don't scream. I clean myself daily. Where's my parade? Where's my praise?  Yesterday, she let out a giggle mid-diaper change, and Mama looked at her like she discovered sliced bread.  I sneezed in rhythm and no one even claps.  Also, she stared at me again this morning like I was the fluffy overlord of her dreams. Which, obviously, I am. But I'm starting to feel like she's plotting to pull my tail as soon as she figures out what hands are for.  I'll allow minimal head pats and maybe the occasional babble—but if she touches my tre...

  In Clear Lake, Iowa, you don't find the sweet corn... The sweet corn finds you. Usually when you're cruising down the highway in mismatched flip-flops, sipping iced coffee that's more like milk than caffeine, and your baby finally fell asleep in the backseat. That's when you see it—a truck pulled over on the shoulder, tailgate down, loaded with rows of sunshine in husk form.  Right beside it? A sign propped up in the grass: "HARRINGTON SWEET CORN- $6/DOZEN" You slam on your breaks like a true local.  Because in this town, seeing that Harrington sign means it's go time. You don't wait until tomorrow. You don't compare prices. You pull over. you park, and you thank God you have a crumpled up 5 and some change in the diaper bag.  The guy running the show is usually friendly, tanned from the sun, and already halfway through his second Mountain Dew by 9 a.m. He doesn't rush you. He knows the rhythm. You nod, you pay, you exchange a "Gonna be ...