Ob-la-di

Life goes on.

Cupcake face - he gets it from his mama.

Two months after we brought Mary Brooks home (again), life is going on. Cupcakes and crying and collective fits of giggles are going on.

Some days moments I feel like I'm treading water, but for the most part I am soaking in what our new normal looks like: grateful, messy, mindful, sweet and a little crazy.

Date night at Zac Brown. Watch out, world!

And also covered in hair - mine, Blue's and Mary Brooks'. The dark hair just keeps on a-fallin'. Two of the three of us are practically balding at this point; the other is just shedding his winter coat. I think we're about to see Baby Bangs: Part Deux, so get excited for that little sequel.

Mac wraps up school this week, taking a much-needed three-month hiatus from the rigorous academic schedule that is preschool. He has learned so much and grown by leaps and bounds this year; it breaks my heart to look back at the "first day" pics from last fall.

Two-thirds eyeball, one-third cheek. Love her.

But time marches on even if my brain still thinks it's mid-February. (The temperatures are sweltering and Labor Day-like, which you'd imagine would remind me it's no longer winter, but alas...)

Mary Brooks is cooing and smiling so infectiously that I morph into an unrecognizable caricature of myself when she beams in my general direction. Bon Jovi must have been watching his newborn grin when he scribbled his "shot through the heart" line, because this little bean sure knows how to get to us.

This fool is plum crazy.

(Actually, I'm playing the rest of that song in my head and I'm quite confident he wrote it about someone decidedly NOT a newborn.)

In feeling a lot more like myself, my brain has returned to its usual deep pursuits: celebrity gossip, mindless internet browsing and avoiding chores like a pro. Case in point: I've watched this trailer for the upcoming Great Gatsby remake more than a few times. How will we wait 'til Christmas to see it on the big screen?

I am currently working on a proposal that has me like:



My ability to laugh at myself has emerged unscathed, and I've found middle school humor never goes out of style. B doesn't share my enthusiasm for the Tumblrs that share these images, but I could amuse myself for hours there. Hello, procrastination!

And Kate Middleton FTW is back en force, too, which makes me giddy.

In other news, we had a little celebration last Saturday to thank some of the friends who took such wonderful care of us, both near and from afar, when MB was in the hospital. We have a few more of these to throw, as the number of people who carried us through that time couldn't fit into our house and onto our patio at once, much less find room to eat barbecue.

And we really want time to thank every last friend, hug them and make non-hospital-based conversation. To truly, fully transition back into post-trauma life.

I was so 'busy' hosting last Saturday that I took no pictures. Not a SINGLE one. It's a crying shame! Thankfully our friend Erin took one and posted it on her blog today.

My best bloggers: Lyndsey, Megan and Erin

We're hosting our small group early next month (I believe the date I quoted in an email to everyone was the @th, further proof I've "done lost my mind") and I promise to take pictures then. I want to remember all of this, for our sake and for Mary Brooks'.



This is the first song we heard after returning to church with a healed MB a while back. Tell me that's a coincidence; it's my life mantra. I'm okay, but I'm not okay. More than anything, I am not the same.

I still can't sing it without choking up, but this version is on constant repeat nonetheless chez Smith.

I have so much to tell you and a lot of news to share in the coming week or two. Once I get into a summer groove, I hope to be posting regularly and reminding myself through these written words that I'm still me. Different, but still me. And although I'd take back what happened in a heartbeat, I wouldn't change how we've grown.

It hurt like all my thousands of words could never say. And it still hurts.

But we're here, breathing and happy. May I never stop singing His praises for it. We've been called to tell this story and to live out our lives in a way that puts this pain to good use. I can't wait to tell you what that looks like and ask you for help in doing it!

Thank you for being here, sweet friends. xoxo