It was an interlude. A day promising of spring, sandwiched between snow and gusty winds.
We left our coats on their hooks when we skipped town for a Maryland park, and found ourselves peeling off layers as the sun peeked through the clouds and wrapping back up in them as breezes picked up.
We shared good times with sweet friends and a picnic lunch under a shelter pelted with pine cones.
We put Baby Girl in a swing, delighting in her delight.
We obtained photographic proof that there is hair growing on that head of hers.
We imagined we were superheroes and detectives, saved little ones from the bad dinosaur, and wandered a small farm, feeding turkeys and keeping babies' fingers away from peacocks' beaks.
The Mister and I are making a life for our family just outside Washington, DC. He spends his days (and many nights and weekends) working at a law firm in the city. I spend mine caring for our greatest blessings. This is the journal of our lives.