On Sunday morning, we slept. I woke up and enjoyed arts and crafts and coffee while Cody and Evelyn slept a little longer. She woke up and we played. We ate and played and she 'helped' Cody made bread while I sewed the zipper into her sweater.
This was us on last year's Little Rock Marathon Sunday:
|It's a family portrait of sorts.|
I had to work, so Cody dropped me off. It's hard to find parking on race day, and I was full-term. He took me to work and almost had to pay to park somewhere and walk home in his pajamas before a cop took pity on him and moved a barricade. Then he had problems picking me up and got yelled at by a different cop who tried to convince that no one was in my building. He got to me somehow, though.
We ate lunch and then he took these pictures of me:
I worked one more day after this day. I wrote one more pregnancy update after that one.
Then there was Evelyn. Very few quiet mornings of crafting alone before Cody wakes up. Lots of mornings waking up to the sound of her yelling and her grunts and coos and wild animal hoots and growls. Lots of time spent feeding and playing and holding and carrying. Very few pictures with good light because the only room in this apartment that gets much sun is her room and we're not in there very often, even though it's my favorite place. Very few sweet moments together like the one up there. Just lots and lots of Evelyn.
And that's great.
I wore my green dress last week. I wore it over and over in the last month of pregnancy because it fit. Maternity pants didn't fit, pajama pants didn't fit, and Cody's boxers and t-shirts didn't really fit (I stretched out t-shirts typically worn by a 220 lb man. It happens). I wear the dress and it fits differently and I feel different and Evelyn is harder to carry around this year than she was last year, but I get to put her down now. And then she crawls away, or pats my knees, or looks for someone else to see.
Almost-one is old. She can push her hands through the sleeves on her shirt. She dances. She claps. She recognizes words. She does this thing where she crawls up to you, stops, and raises up from her knees with her hands up to let you know she wants you to pick her up. It's so much more awesome than crying. She's been moving out of the baby category for a while now, but it's really hitting me now that The Big Day is almost here and I realize that we haven't even had this girl for a year and it's been such a big year and official toddlerhood is nigh.
I try to think about next year. I'll be working. She may be running in the marathon at the rate she's going. She might even have teeth! I'll probably get all nostalgic (although "nostalgic" might not be the right word for it) and think about the last few days of life spent without Evelyn's face and noises and cowlicks.
I'll think about when life looked like this:
It's a sweet life indeed.