Thursday, August 15, 2013

Rambling Thoughts, Mostly

Last week was our annual Hassold family beach week.  This year was so much fun for me because Gracie was old enough to play and run around, not to mention I had time to actually read a couple of books (Bossypants by Tina Fey-hilarious) while various brothers, parents, and sister helped out.  Poor Parke was struck by the stomach bug and kindly stayed away for the better part of the week but managed to make it back for some pool time with his adoring fan(s).

 My best girl

 Why we thought the boat needed such a prime spot in this pic, I don't know?

Da Da!!

Gracie and her Pop...or as Parke put it, the Oprah Winfrey of her life (she reallllly loves her Pop)

Two beautiful peeps and a tiny pink photo bomb

Not amused

Gracie recently discovered "dancing" (and yes, those quotation marks are there on purpose).  Girl never met a tune she didn't like.  I hope she never loses this trait.  Yes, Gracie, I hope you dance...

video

video

I have a lot of friends (and I know some of this is circumstantial with me, but not all of it) who have gone or are going through really hard times having their babies.  I was driving down the road thinking about this yesterday, thinking of all of these people I know who want their babies so bad.  And how these babies will probably never know how badly they were wanted.  How we wanted them so badly that our bones hurt with it.

But some day they might be driving down the road in the rain with Van Morrison on the radio and their own baby sitting in the back seat and then they might get a taste of how much they are loved.  Because loving someone so much ALL THE TIME? That is the stuff that makes you tear up at Pampers commercials and A Baby Story (no matter how many times you've seen them).

It just struck me that thirty years down the road all of these hopes and dreams who are (or will be) our babies who we have prayed for will be all grown up with hopes and dreams and babies or their own.  And that gave me comfort and also made me want to pull over and smother Gracie with five thousand kisses while she was still small enough to let me.

I warned you this was a rambler.


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