Our baby turned 1! ! !

Has it really been a year . . . . .

since our beautiful little girl, came into our world . . . . .


. . . . making us a party of four?

Yes; Elisabeth turned one on Saturday. Watching our little girl grow over the last year has been such a wonderful experience. She has developed quite the unique little personality

To my little girl: you are so beautiful in every way. I love how your smile can brighten any room, I love the way you hug your stuffed animals or how excited you get when you see your daddy and brother, I love how you laugh at Ethan's silliness, I love how you point at everything and say something that sounds like "what's this?", I love your little snuggles and giggles, I love how you bring me book after book to read to you, even if you don't let me finish before you go for the next one, I love how Coldplay songs can calm you and how Outkast can get you dancing. I love that you have completed our family. I love being your mom. I love you. Happy Birthday!



We had a small celebration at our house; some cupcakes, a few friends, grandma, and of course some presents.

Elisabeth loves her new friend Violet.


Presents are pretty cool; wrapped or unwrapped



We were sure happy Grandma could make it.


Ellie has not shown any interest in walking. Once in a while she will pull her self up to standing, but not often. So . . . .we decided to get this little stroller for her to push around. It was pretty cute; we stood her up with it and she started pushing and slowly walking (picture a 90+ year old using a walker).







Elisabeth enjoyed her jumbo cupcake. I never give her eating utensils during meals (too messy). Since I was expecting a big mess anyways I gave her a spoon and to my surprise she could use it quite well.



The only people under the age of 30 were boys; no wonder the princess party hats didn't go over so well.


OUR SWEET BIRTHDAY GIRL!

Labor Day Weekend in Stanley

It has been over a year since we have made it up to the Sawtooth Valley, but we finally made it. We definitely need to make it up that direction more than once a year; 5 hours plus or not.

Ethan was so excited to go to the "house at the top of the mountain," especially since "this is (was)Ellie's first time going". We had perfect weather, enjoyed a nice hike behind Stanley Lake (2 miles was Ethan's threshold; Ellie's too-she fell asleep in the pack) enjoyed our favorite pizza from Papa Brunee's, played up at the school, had Ethan's "best drive ever" on some back roads (not sure if they were all roads, but we made it through), listened to music on the lawn at Red Fish Lake; just relaxed and enjoyed the weekend. On the way home we were able to stop and see our new little nephew/cousin Wiley, so cute, and his family.











It's just too bad the only place we remembered to bring the camera was to the park.

It's the little things

Today we picked up a cheap little (baby proof) doll for Elisabeth. First thing she hugs and cuddles it. I put them on the floor together, Elisabeth grabs her bottle and puts it to her doll's mouth. . . . . .mothering instinct?

Too cute . . . On my days off when I drop Ethan off at school I love watching him go in. I help him out of the car and he walks up to the building himself. He's so funny, he walks fast (can't be late) and seems to be walking in perfect posture and everything. . . . .well of course, school is very important and he means business.

Ethan needs a bigger backpack for all of that Kindergarten homework. "Hey, maybe we can go to Smith's and get you a new backpack." Ethan replies, "Yeah, Smith's has good prices!".

The other day at a soccer game I overheard Ethan: "I need to go home and do my exercise program so I can get more muscles."

Officially in Kindergarten

Last year Ethan's preschool was in a Kindergarten Class, but he only attended 3 days a week. This year he has started Kindergarten "for reals".








Ethan was so excited to go to "the school where mommy works". At the end of his first day he "loved his school" and it was "so fun". He was also exhausted afterwards. . . . . .