Cooper, my brother.

Cooper is younger than Isobel and Hudson and me, but older than Reuben, Justus, Raleigh and Emma. He is probably the biggest out of all of them, though. He is tall, but super skinny. They are all super skinny. He lost tons of weight recently when he went to Guatemala for school. Now he is back and he likes us all more after missing us. Cooper is silly. He makes silly faces and says silly things and we never know for sure when he's "for real." Sometimes bearded, he has blond hair (naturally wavy) and blue eyes. He plays guitar and sings. His plans include medical school and a hands-on career. Sometimes I don't like him very much, but mostly I do.

The general consensus is that Cooper is "the favorite."

Good Read!

Today, I read this book to Beatrice and found it very, very inspiring!

"My house is me and I am it. My house is where I like to be. It looks like all my dreams."

Okay, time for some decorating brainstorming and changing around of things. Time for some searching for lovely articles I've so far only seen in dreams. Time for color and sunshine.

NEED

I looked through the Ikea catalog with Mama the other day and I saw this:

And I zeroed in on this:

Oh, my goodness, James, I really want that. It is versatile. We can change the slip cover out anytime we want. (Although what I like most is the cover!) Here are some other options:

Birds and bird related cuteness.

(all via weheartit.com)

Sorry, it's another hair post. I'm obsessed.

Which color would you choose?

I'd probably go with a really pale pink rather than a hot pink. I doubt I'll ever be brave enough. I have so many cop-out excuses. For example, I don't have the wardrobe to support such awesome hair.

Maybe a wig is the way to go...

Yes, please!!!

(all via weheartit.com)

Happy Mother's Day

Or is it Mothers' Day? I'm not sure, but I hope it's a happy one for you, especially if you are a mother!

I love you, Mama!

Last night I fell in love!

In my dream last night, I met James for the first time. There was the same excitement, the exuberance that was there the April night six years ago when we did actually meet. But it was a little different. None of any of this had happened, these years, I mean. But I knew. He was the one. I was a teenager again, but without the hesitation or doubt, "Oh, maybe this is the one."

It was solid and clear, "I know. I've found him. We've found each other."

We met at a place called Art Bomb. We love to revisit, but can only go when they have an exhibit and open to the public. One year when we came back there was a photo booth: