Noticing the leaves

Why Do I Write?

Hi, friends. I’m so grateful you read this, even though I don’t know who you are. Actually… scratch that. I know my cousin reads. He told me so when I saw him at Christmas. (Hey, Mason! Thank you for saying that!!!) And I have the sweetest words logged away in my memory from you, kind friends, who have called me out on my writing, said that in some way it mattered to you that I wrote.  I was at a Christmas party, and someone told me that when something bad happens, they look to see if I’ve written something. That may…

From Tiny Cells to Singing

We’re about to hit five months! Our Baby Girl is about to be FIVE MONTHS OLD. Just over a year ago she was a microscopic group of cells in a freezer. Now she’s singing at the dinner table. How is she different now at five months than at 4, 3, 2 or 1? Well, now she has hair. You can’t see it in photos or from a distance. She still has most of the brown hair she was born with, but that brown hair has spread out as her head has grown so that now she is sporting that baby…

Blissing Out

Absolute bliss. Total and absolute paradigm shifting happiness that will fly me to the moon. I am feeling it today, y’all. FEELING IT! Why? Why am I so happy?! So get this… I napped. I’ve been writing a lot about the big picture lately. “You need to find a way to enjoy your life,” I put in a post. “You have to take every chance you get to make your life the way you dream it to be,” I wrote. And I believe those things. Life is short. Dream, dream all the time, then do something to get you closer…

Meeting Our Surrogate: The Morning After

I have a big long blog post in the works about what it is like to meet the woman who will carry your baby. For anyone who doesn’t know, I am a man, and my husband and I are unsurprisingly unable to carry our own children. Earlier this week in a quiet office on the edge of Madison, Wisconsin, we met an angel of a woman and her equally angelic husband. It was a tectonic shift in our lives, though on the surface it felt simply like meeting new, amazing friends. More on that later. Let me tell you what…

One singed drop

My mother-in-law bought this percolator to use during her visits to our house. My french press wasn’t big enough. This weekend our gas was turned off to fix a leak, so with no stove, I was percolating.  This morning I’ve converted to the tiny machine because of an unexpected result – the smell of the coffee burning in between the glass carafe and the hot plate. It’s just a dribble that makes it down, but that drops sends out a burning smell that I didn’t know I needed.  Strange that charred coffee could hit such an emotional note for me,…