Congratulations, Joanna (& Ben), on your super-surprise delivery yesterday! And happy belated birthday to sweet little Clara. We cannot wait to meet you!!

Isaac is often outnumbered but rarely discouraged.

Valid concerns. Today she came downstairs face all reddened with tears, sobbing, "I don't want to grow up." When I ask Iris why, she says, "I don't want you and Daddy to die... because then I won't have anyone to take me to gymnastics. I won't be able to drive on my own when I grow up."

In a flash of white our scenery changed. We threw on layers and ran outdoors to catch snowflakes on our tongues. It was a small window of time we captured yesterday perfectly in the late morning before potato soup and everything melting in the afternoon.

Let's make it a day of cheek-kisses and chocolate. But that about sums up every day.

When I think of carrot cake, I picture trips to my grandparents' in Texas. There was always a cake waiting for us. The raisins aggravated me, and the cream cheese frosting intrigued me. Took a while for me to realize that she never made these cakes by hand; they were from the grocery store bakery. I guess it didn't take much to please me back then. (She also made the best blueberry nutri-grain waffles and Little Debbie star-crunches...) These days, I devote an entire Saturday morning to a Martha Stewart version, and there is luke-warm interest in the results. I will admit that the frosting is over-whipped, and the cake is somewhat spongy in texture. And drawing a heart on a crumbly foundation of pecans is no easy feat. Oh, well. There will be other cakes.

Plain & simply a beautiful boy.