Everything is post-dated so you know what happened when. And also so that when I review this blog in years to come, my future self will marvel at how capable and organized I was, able to stay on top of everything despite a busy job and two little kids. (It’ll be our own little secret.)

I think the feeling is mutual.

My new friend Laura and I have been running together since late January, and yesterday we ran a 5K.

This might be the first time since college that I’ve exercised consistently; having a running partner has made all the difference in keeping me accountable and motivated.

The best part is that I actually enjoy it. No, I don’t love running, but I don’t hate it anymore either. What I love are all the benefits of it. I enjoy our long chats when we run together a couple times a week. I love that I’ve lost all my baby weight and then some—with plans to lose about ten more pounds. (I’m already thinner than I’ve been in years.) Most of all, I love the way I feel. I have so much more energy and can tell that my body is healthier.

Up next—no, not a 10K just yet. Maybe another 5K at a pace faster than ten minutes a mile!

I was cleaning the house and pushed down on the trash to compact it down a bit further. I had forgotten that in the trash was a broken glass bowl, and I had shoved on it hard. Real smart. I immediately knew that the resulting cut was more serious than a flesh wound, but I’m still amazed at how calm I stayed. I wrapped my hand in a towel and kept pressure on it. Both boys were napping (thankfully), so I immediately called my sister and asked her come over and stay with them. Then I put on pants one-handed, since I’d been wearing pajama bottoms (I guess I am that vain), and drove myself to the urgent care clinic.

They got me in very quickly, and Jared arrived just before the doctor sewed me up. He gave me seven stitches and told me that I was extremely lucky I didn’t sever an artery, nerve, or tendon. I did nick a nerve, though, because half of my thumb is numb, but the doctor assured me it would grow back.

Thankfully, the injury hasn’t affected my work, because I discovered that  I don’t use my left thumb at all when I’m typing. But it definitely hurts, and I can’t bend my thumb at all. Losing the use of the thumb has made other tasks much harder—such as picking up a baby, changing a diaper, using shampoo/soap/lotion, and putting my hair in a ponytail.

But, this is more annoying than tragic. I am very lucky. And thankful.

On Saturday we enjoyed the beach, then dinner at our favorite fish place afterward.

Easter Sunday was also Max’s baptism, so it was extra special. The service was awesome, and Carol made an incredible Easter meal—roast lamb, fingerling potatoes, sauteed green beans, roasted yellow squash, fresh bread, and something else I’m surely forgetting. It was so good. The kids, of course, preferred all the sugar the got from their Easter eggs and the piñata Carol got for them. Intense personalities, by the way, come out of the woodwork around a piñata. Exhibits A and B are below.

It’s so nice being a quick seven-hour drive from my family in Florida!

Damen, how are you half a year old already? The doctor today said you were a healthy, perfect little boy. Well, she didn’t say “perfect.” That was my interpretation. But you are. You are also enormous—in the ninety-fifth percentile of both height and weight. (As much as I hate those dumb percentile charts, I have become that mom who regularly recites her child’s scores.)

You are so sweet. We love to get you in the morning and after naps, because no matter how long you’ve been waiting for a face to appear above your crib, you always reward it with the BIGGEST smile. This huge, open-mouth, silly grin. In fact, you do this whenever anyone looks in your direction all day long. So I am constantly smiling back and launching into gushy baby talk. How can I help it?

You belly laugh, you’ve started to eat baby food (which you merely tolerate), you try to sit up, and you are very close to cutting your first tooth. You love your brother and could bounce all day in your jumper. You will go to anyone and are always the best kid in church nursery (if I say so myself).

I have only one request. Stop growing up!

We love you, sweet Damen.

Damen, on the other hand…

Not so much.

I hope you felt as honored and loved as you are!

I love, love, love this kid.

We frequently host impromptu dinners at each others’ houses, drop by unannounced, watch each others’ kids, discipline each other’s kids, share sitters so we can go on double dates, roast marshmallows in the backyard, take the kids to area parks, terrorize restaurants with our brood of five collective children, and get together for no other reason than because we like each other. Jared and Greg bike together, exercise together, and sometimes even work together. They recently camped in our back yard with the older boys. (The plan is for them to go for-real camping soon. Had to test out all that gear, you know.)

Our kids are signed up to take swimming lessons together and enrolled at the same preschool next year (and ultimately, will attend the same elementary school). It’s weird, this whole living-by-family thing. Weird and wonderful. We keep waiting for the honeymoon to be over, for the day we’ll all get sick of each other.

Thankfully, that hasn’t happened yet. And I don’t think it will.