It's a girl.
When those words came from the ultrasound tech, Chris had this starry eyed look about him and said how we could call her Belle. It's stuck with me. So many beautiful names to choose from but we kept coming back to Bella...Belle.
It fits our girl. So we've decided that's it!
"Beautiful, God is gracious"
She will be here soon and good groceries we're excited.
Spring time is wrapping up, school will be out soon, we'll have some time off from Ali's therapy, and ballet is concluding with recital in a few weeks. I'll admit excitement of no schedule or anywhere to be is brewing in this mama's heart. The bucket list of summer fun has been made and that's all we have on the agenda.
More time for cooking up new things. This past week we happily trimmed from our herb garden and made Pesto. Lemon Basil Pesto Sauce to be exact.
It also makes a fantastic rub for pork tenderloin or chicken.
Lemon Basil Pesto
2 c. basil (we used lemon and sweet)
3 cloves garlic
salt and pepper
1/3 c. pine nuts
1/3 c. parmesan cheese
1/2 c. olive oil
splash of lemon juice
--pulse it in a food processor and throw it on some pasta
Um, yes please.
This weekend was a blend of inspired moments of productivity and chasing babies.
Sister must be chased these days for a few reasons, one being this face. I mean this face screams I am up to no good and must be watched and chased.
My girl is cruising, on mission, taking lots of steps and you best not get in her way. She is constantly giving me kisses and at the same time showing me her independence. She makes this face with piercing blues and it says I got this, mama.
I know she does.
I see her tenderness mixed with fearless drive and agenda. She falls down a lot and gets up every time, usually without a tear. But this weekend, she fell off her little bike and couldn't help herself. I scooped up her little body and told her I was here, that everything was okay. Sometimes in the middle of the night, I slip into her nursery for the same scoop hold.
She really is the berries.
Along with these other babies and my hunk a burnin' man. We stopped at a local taco stand and ordered one of everything, because that's how we roll.
And then we saw it, the trigger of memories of the hot African sun streaming into my tent, browning our shoulders, and giving off light into the night hours for soccer with barefooted village orphans...Orange Fanta.
Funny how a little bottle of soda can flood my mind of such a special place.
Emma asked when we're going. Some day when you are older, we will go back there. Anyone who has been knows there's no place like it.
But the place we crave to be at for now is home. Wherever we are, Sophie pleads for home.
So we go and do, this week, dance pictures. And then we headed home.
Chris went all into this-feels-like-prom-I-need-a-shotgun mode. Like this snarling bear was woken from slumber when he saw his little girls all dressed up.
I love it when he does this. Love it.
We may be taking up soccer next year.
These days, when possible, we make our way back to the nest.
I must say Sophie is right, I love being home. There is plenty to pull us away from our haven of morning baths, afternoon cups of coffee, and evenings in the driveway with grimy babies greased in popsicles and sunscreen. And we like those away from the nest things too.
Being away from home is the berries too.
The summer of nothingness is coming and that will be the berries too.
Here's to princesses slurping cereal at the table, messes in every room of the house, moments when we say we're sorry, and the memories we will make when Bella Jane is welcomed into the nest.
Now that will be the berries.