LOVE

Lucy Godfrey Freeman McBride, 1917-2010

Grams,

In our last conversation, you only said one thing to me. You emphasized it's importance by repeating it over and over. "I love you so much."

It's all that needed be said.

Country Roads

Hearing John Denver sing the song always reminds me of my home. Yes, I know that West Virginia and western Virginia are not the same place, but it's close enough. I still grew up in the Blue Ridge Mountains and there are plenty of windy, scenic roads in and around my hometown. In June, Ezra and I had the pleasure of spending a couple of weeks at the Freeman homestead. While the first week was a bit difficult...Ezra had a hard time adjusting to a new place and new people (and grumpy kid=flustered mom), the second weeks wasn't far from idyllic. Ezra learned to love his "Am-pa"and "Am-ma" and found that they were very easy to lead around wherever he wanted. Most of the time that meant outside to throw rocks. I think Ezra's a country boy at heart.

Run, Eppie, Run

Tuesday morning we said goodbye to our dear family member of 15 years. It would have been hard to receive a phone call saying that Eppie had passed on, but being there and seeing the pain in her eyes and the way that she couldn't lift her head, her labored breathing and the spasms in her chest was nearly unbearable. As we sat by her and patted her head, she seemed comforted and would close her eyes.

Saying goodbye brought back memories of the previous years. Sticks and rocks and evening runs. Eppie never did anything bad. Loving people was her only fault as she would disappear down to the park during the summer to hang out with campers who entertained her with an endless supply of objects to fetch and, of course, the occasional hot dog or two.

The last several years she slowed down, but not by choice. When I'd turn down the road to go on a run she would look on with longing eyes and sometimes even make an effort to get her aching joints to move. She never made it past the end of the driveway. Now she was going somewhere way beyond the driveway. Before she left, as I said my final goodbye, I found a thought that brought me comfort and I shared it with her, "Eppie, you're going to be able to run again. Run fast. Run. Run. Run."

Thanks for all the wonderful memories. We miss you!

Hidden Treasure

Martin never uses his camera. Last night he asked me download the pictures off of his camera so that he could delete them from the memory card. It was almost like the olden days when you got to develop a roll of film that you had forgotten about for a couple of years. I had so much fun rediscovering photos of my Baby Z. I cant' believe that once upon a time he looked like this...

and like this...

I can't believe it so much that I even had to wipe away a few tears.

Not a Baby Anymore

I don't know exactly when Ezra crossed the line from baby to little boy, all I know is that it happened. He just seems so grown up, sure of himself. Ever since he learned to walk, I would say that his contentment for life easily doubled. He never stops moving and always seems to be intently working on some project.

He talks, and talks, and talks. One of his favorite activities is to approach adults at playgrounds and just tell them all that they're willing to hear. Although we can't understand what he's saying, he obviously knows exactly what all that babbling means and he emphasizes it with his little pointer finger wagging all around in the air.

Ezra has always been a cuddly little bear and luckily he still finds time out of his busy schedule to come over and lay his head in my lap or on my shoulder. He's taken up the practice of saying, "Ahhh..," while doing so and it melts my heart.

He loves his Daddy immensely. He cries when he goes to work in the morning. The rest of the day, whenever he hears someone in the hall, he will go to the door hoping it's Papa getting home from work. If the door doesn't open, he'll plop down and shed a few tears in mourning. He loves moving the chess pieces because Papa loves chess. He moves his toothbrush around REALLY fast when he brushes he teeth because that's how Papa does it. Sometimes we catch him trying on Martin's shoes.

My little boys loves music...he dances and sings and even finagles maracas out of bands in the park and performs for the tourists. (And then stops by the money bucket to try to fish out his share of the winnings.) He still has an affinity for "The Wiggles" and the smile that they put on his face magically makes them tolerable if not enjoyable. He suddenly started to pick up actions to the various children's songs and he's really good at quacking like a duck, climbing like Itsy Bitsy the spider, and patting a cake. I know all little ones learn this, but since he's my little boy, I find it to be absolutely delightful. Everything he does is delightful.

Oh, how I love him! And oh, how he loves chocolate cake. Happy Birthday Ezra!

Itinerary for almost one- year- old on a warm, Spring Saturday in the city: wake up, eat, put up a resistance while getting dressed, out to the neighborhood playground, watch Papa play soccer with his friends, home for lunch and nap, train down to 59th,

a stop at the ice cream truck,

enter Central Park and walk to the playground, work on some climbing and descending skills,

meet some other almost one- year- olds, spend some time yanking toys out of their hands and then toddle away while giving them a "well, maybe you should learn how to walk too" look, fall down a few times, swing, get in the sandbox just long enough to fill shoes and ears with sand, leave the playground, intently watch some musicians perform a couple of songs,

put the same item in and out of the diaper bag about 100 times while Mom and Papa chill on a blanket, flirt with the woman sitting nearby, pretend to talk on the phone,

watch a pick-up game of soccer with Papa,

fall asleep in the stroller while being pushed up Central Park West, wake up just in time for a first hamburger* tasting,

efficiently ask for more burger with a little pointing finger, walk through a street fair, buy a hat,

ride train home, bathe, resist the pajamas, exhibit some crazy, "I'm overtired" behavior, sleep, sleep, sleep.

*Is it fair that his baseline burger, by which he will have to compare all others, is a Shack Burger? Or maybe I should say, is this fair to all other burgers?

Dear Little Plane,

Thank you for getting my parents here safely. Thank you for turning a 9 1/2 hour drive into a 3 hour flight. Thanks for making my dad say that he never disliked New York, he just wasn't fond of the drive. Thank you for a wonderful weekend.

~Britney

Just for fun...

Below is a picture of Ezra's first outing to

the Brooklyn Bridge (2 days before he was born).

I can't believe this was less than a year ago!