Hey, kiddos.
I know, I know, it’s been quiet here, hasn’t it?
I’ll share a little secret with you: I love blogging, but I don’t enjoy having to say something when I’ve got nothing to say. When I’m just living life and loving it, and trying to take it all in.
When I’m just happy to be raising my boy, and loving my guy, drinking my coffee, and keeping my house.
When life is just good and I don’t feel like stopping to grab my camera to show how good it is.
I just want to be in the moment and feel it.
Truth is, sometimes I just don’t have deep thoughts {if you’re a Facebook fan, you probably already know that} and I don’t want to write something just because I feel I have to: hence, the radio silence.
It’s not the first time it’s happened and I’ve no doubt it won’t be the last, but I thank those who write and ask “Whassup?” and those who don’t delete me from their Bloglovin’ line up for inactivity.
Anywhooooo …
I was moved this weekend by all the beauty of Easter, by God sacrificing his only Son because of my faults …
my faults …
my most grievous faults …
and got off my duff, grabbed the camera, and took some shots for a Sweet Little Things catch-up post … so here goes.
Easter Baskets. I’m not talking about the ones filled with chocolate eggs here, I’m talking about ones overflowing with miniature roses and ranunculus, hydrangea and pussy willow. I picked up one for my Easter hostess this weekend … and the florist who puts them together does such a beautiful job.
I’m such a girl: ribbons and flowers just plain make me happy.
Eyelet. That’s what this is called, right?! I remember eyelet on sundresses and bed skirts of my youth, but I wore this exquisite top for Easter this weekend and couldn’t have felt prettier and more spring-y in it. Love.
Little boy ties. The boy no longer enjoys his mama buying him vest sweaters, but he loves a good clip-on tie.
Problem is while I selfishly ignored his sweater aversion {I can’t help myself … they’re so flippin’ cute … check him out on Facebook!} and bought him a lime green argyle vest for Easter, I, well, selfishly also forgot his love of clip-ons, and only realized my error when he presented himself with this sweet thing that only reached half-way down his shirt. I think I bought this when he was 3 {he’ll be 7 in June}.
Not cool, mama. Not cool.
