She's 2

If you ask Ava how old she is, she'll say, "Five, old."

In reality, she's 2, and our family will descend on the house to celebrate in three short hours. It's a beautiful day, the house is clean, and the cake is baked and decorated. Logistically speaking, we are ready.

Yet, I feel so full of cliches: my heart's bursting with love, she's the light of my life, time flies.

It seems like yesterday that I was pregnant with her. (Looking back at the comments on that last link, I see that you guys named her! Look at me, letting the Internet name my girl.)

I prayed so hard that she would be healthy and, please, God, let her be a girl. I got my wish. Every single day I'm grateful.

Like when she expresses her love for something:

"Love. Ben. Much."

"Love. Chocolate. Much."

Or, hate.

"Hate. Naps. Much."

That last one often comes with a foot stomp.

Happy birthday Ava Nathalie. Even if you stop napping at the tender age of 2, Ben and John, your Dad and I, we're all better people for having you in our lives. You bring us so much joy.

Love. Ava. Much.


Brothers in love


Four months old: China doll


Seven months old: the height of chub


Two years old, in her favorite place to play: the mudroom. (Why? Are you kidding? The shoes, man. The shoes!)


On her birthday Wednesday, playing peek-a-boo, with a face full of blueberries and blue marker, as appropriate for the occasion.