Monday Musings (5/4)

~I'm in the mood to decorate my backyard with beautiful flowers, especially along the fence line. I was thinking rose bushes. But, then.

I get email notifications from a company called Joss & Main often with discounted prices and good deals, and today's email showed that, among other things, they had their garden items on sale. I clicked on over and saw the prettiest hydrangeas! I ADORE hydrangeas. We had them in our wedding, and they were so simple and beautiful. Unfortunately, they already sold out of all of their hydrangeas!!  BOO.  I'll keep looking around to find some good deals.  If you're also in the gardening mood, check out their sales. Maybe they'll have the plant, garden item, outdoor furniture, or other item for around the house you're searching for.

~Saturday morning, my mom and I took the kids to our local consignment shop. They were having a birthday/reopening/moving celebration and had prizes and food and a man doing face painting.

Jack cried. 

Then, when we got home, all he wanted to do was look at his basketball in the mirror, haha. 

~Yesterday afternoon, the kids and I sat on the porch and enjoyed the gorgeous weather. Owl came out with us, and Jack and I drew him pictures.  

~Last night, after Jack had finished his bowl of spinach tortellini and his slices of yellow squash, he requested some of the pumpkin purée I was feeding Ella. 

I scooped some into his EZPZ mat, and he went to town.  He'll pretty much eat whatever I put in front of him. 

~It's been 3 years. Three years today since I delivered, and we lost our girl. Time has passed so quickly, and yet the loss sometimes feels so fresh. The last few days I've found myself hugging Jack and Ella a little tighter and a little longer, and they have tolerated it, even welcomed it.  Often they snuggle in and bury their faces in my neck, and I sigh. 

Jack likes to look at her book that sits on our side table by the couch, but I only let him see the pictures. The book is a precious and special reminder of the brief moments we were able to hold her, and although I can't undo it, three years later and I still often wish we'd seen her little face. We held her and touched her very tiny hands and feet, but we didn't even glance at her cheeks or her chin or her ears, and I regret it. I can't wait to see her sweet, smiling face when we meet in heaven one day. I can't wait to see if her eyes are blue like Ella's or hazel like Jack's or brown like her daddy's or green like mine. I can't wait to hear her giggles and squeals. I can't wait to hug her so tightly. I don't think I'll want to let go. 

Three years, my sweet girl. 

We miss you so.