Happy, happy birthday to this beautiful, little soul. Our sweet Crosby has the heart of Jesus beating in his chest. He sits with me and pats my back when Iâm throwing up in the bathroom. He cups my face with his tiny little hands while weâre sleeping side by side. Heâll look at me in my pineapple pjâsâwith my hair flung up in a towel and my face covered in a mud maskâand say with complete sincerity, âMama! You look beautiful!â. Cros is and always has been an extraordinary little human. I still canât believe we get to do life with him every day. âââ Parenting is a really hard calling. Itâs unpredictable and exhausting and all-encompassing (Most days I look like Tom Hanks in Cast Away). And weâre just a few years inâI canât even wrap my head around the decades of parenthood still to come! (Although, letâs be real. Toddlerhood is CRAY. If I never had to clean up another Target aisle after a tantrum-induced Goldfish massacre, Iâd count myself #blessed.) But I digress. When I stop to zoom out on the big picture, itâs impossible to miss: THESE ARE THE GOOD OLD DAYS. These are the days that shape us and refine us and make us hardcore, belly laugh. These are the days we get to teach our children how to see the world with wonder and adventure and empathy, only to re-learn those lessons ourselves. These are the days that the gospelâthe concepts and scriptures Iâve studied a hundred other times in my lifeâbecome more real and tangible than theyâve ever been before. Yes, these days will become our sweetest memories. So while theyâre still today, Iâm gonna snuggle with my boys. And eat birthday cake. And have a water gun fight. And tell them I love them way too many times. And watch Peppa Pig. And memorize every. single. tiny. detail of our extraordinary, ordinary life. (at Greenville, South Carolina)










