Jeremy called me to the windows last night to look outside. At 12:00am it was light enough to read a book on the porch. There was an eery brightness as streetlights reflected on the new snowfall and it would have made for a really fascinating photo walk had we taken advantage of the night. Yet, we had a sleeping child all snugged in bed and it was cold and late. Our alarms were set to go off for early service first thing in the morning. So this photo will have to do.

We experienced a truly beautiful snowfall this morning, the kind you imagine for the perfect white Christmas. Deep snow covered our yards and bare tree limbs were layered in white. On days like this I love the fact we live near our church… There’s something exciting about throwing on snow boots to make our way down the block for worship. This family photo was taken after church.

Why yes, Ms. Klum, yes I am. Sucked in, that is. Today I’ve discovered what the rest of the extended cable endowed already know and embrace: Project Runway. It’s so late that I’m not even going to link that reference. (I also don’t want to read any spoilers.)

Tonight I go to bed with a bellyful of Gobstoppers (not a recommendation, mind you), a head full of 12 fashion designers, and a birthday wish for my mom. Happy birthday, Mamacita! I love you.

Warm days at the beach where a cool breeze floats in off the waves and the sun creates more freckles on my face. Delicious entrees of fresh seafood — crabcakes, shrimp, fish, clam chowder. Huge oaks draped with spanish moss, gravestones dating back several hundreds years, churches with historical significance.

St. Simons Island sounds lovely today.

I carried on the most ridiculous conversation yesterday with an employee at a local fish store.

Me: Um, hi. My in-laws purchased a betta fish for my young daughter and, well, I don’t think he’s doing too well.

Fish Guy: What’s he doing?

Me: Laying on his side. He doesn’t want to eat. He hardly swims around. But I know he’s alive because he moves when I tap the bowl.

After running through a short list of betta care questions, I’m left with this: our betta may have had a stroke.

So evidentally I’m feeding and cleaning the bowl of a stroked-out, $3.50, slightly crazed betta. See what I mean about ridiculous?

Our outdoor “pet” situation is no better. Our front porch slats, apparently, provide delicious munchies to a very cheeky, obstinate and, dare I say, vicious squirrel. I tell you what. This thing looks me in the eye and just dares me to take a step in his direction. I had the audacity to head out front to pick up our mail and the little thing stared me down and refused to budge! I swear he’s going to charge me or the Wee One someday. Jeremy laughs at this concern, but he hasn’t seen the challenge in this squirrel’s eye yet.

Tredways: 0
Yard Rat: 2 (Just ask Liv how Daddy broke his foot)

Livia thinks Madeleine is the coolest thing in the world.

I love the way her hand so casually rests on her baby cousin’s head here… It’s like Liv’s thinking, Yeah, we hang out all the time.

I’m welcoming a new year by taking a deep breath, and a bit of a blogging break.

I’ll be back…

The little girl climbs up on the back of the seat and leans her head towards me as I munch on a sandwich at the mall.

“Hi,” I said. “Did you just eat some chocolate?”

“Yeah.” She smiles, the rim of chocolate crumbs smiling around her lips, then hops down to the playground again.

A little while later she’s back. This time I decide that her hair, brown with slightly frizzy curls descending from one ponytail, might be the same type of hair my niece Madeleine ends up with. Madeleine’s got the genes for this style, that’s for sure, and, as the token straight-haired child on my side of the Lawton clan, I’m just a little jealous.

“I like your fingernails; they’re pretty.”

This one’s a cutie alright. Striped pants with a cute top. Fingernails all painted in bright colors with flower and heart appliqués.

“I got a man-cure and ped-cure at the mall,” she blurts before hopping down to the playland.

Mom, Dad and I continue to eat our lunches while keeping our eyes on Livia.

The little girl comes back, this time breathing over my shoulder as I sit on the bench.

“Where’s your mommy, honey?” my mom asks.

“I don’t have a mommy. She’s dead.”

Oh. We all pause and wonder, really?

A dark haired young woman walks over and asks if the little girl said something about her mom. We affirm it and learn that this four year old’s mama died a year and a half ago, and that today, December 27, is her birthday. The lovely caretaker is a friend of the family and mentions plans to celebrate the day in remembrance.

How does one not burst into tears in the middle of the mall playground? By gulping very hard, avoiding any deeper thoughts of suffering (not to mention avoiding any more glances at this precious, outgoing four year old), and by focusing intently on washing down one’s sandwich with sips of Diet Coke.

Today my sister-in-law’s boyfriend is celebrating his birthday, as is my uncle. This week our nations mourns the passing of two very different famous men and our church family mourns the death of one of our own. This is life. These joys and sufferings, these celebrations and commemorations, they are what binds us together. They remind me to love hard on my toddler and appreciate the gift of my husband, to hug my parents and tell them thank you, to be grateful for great brothers and sisters-in-law and new babies in the family. They encourage me to recall the birth, death and resurrection of my Savior, to drink deeply of this gracious salvation I do not deserve. This is life.

Pass on the lovin’ today, folks. There’s someone near you who could use kind words, a slice of cake, a loving phone call, a tight hug.

I know nothing about my computer. And next-to-nothing about my blog. There is this man in my life who takes care of all things internet for me… and does so without complaint. I have an HTML boo-boo? He fixes it. I need a category added or another subtracted? It’s done. I want a photo realigned? He did it five minutes ago.

My husband, my own personal web developer, takes care of me. The world needs to know that I love him and thank him for it.