In her next thirty years.

In the midst of a frantic type b scramble for paper lanterns and table cloths to pull together Harper's birthday party this weekend (last year, this time? everything was done. I had even baked a batch of practice cupcakes), I scoured our hard drive for 'inspiration' I saved over the year for ideas for Harper's party.

But instead of finding what I "needed," I found what I needed.

I ran across some old pictures - ones when Harper was just a wistful, slightly intimidating dream in the future - and although I am completely in love with my life as a mom (I swear it, even when she dumps yogurt on her hamburger then screams at me like its my fault) and in love with the potential of a cuddly newborn and in love with the fact that those things, these days, define me. . . .,

I wasn't always a parent with yogurt in my hair - none of us were - and we'd do well not to forget the fun we had - you know.. before we went to bed at 9:00 most nights, because all uh dis (to borrow a Harperism) is why I love what I do, am who I am, and look wistfully to all that I know life holds for Harper.

giddy anticipation (I know there must be better wedding pictures, but. . . .this was the one on the camera, so..I'll work on that):

family:

practice (somewhere on that couch, there are multiple pieces of bologna with sutures in them):

friends:

nights on the town (we were in the German Beer Hall in Milwaukee. I was still drunk at 10:00 a.m. the next morning. Thank you, liver.):

a new home (when you think you'll only ever have one):

 coworkers who become friends:

bucket list. . . check. a terrified check.:

rebellion at its truest Martha Stewart (we sneaked that tree up six flights):

the unknown:

big cities:

games:

love: (This was in Chicago. He looks sleepy and it couldn't have been before 10 a.m. This weekend, we left the zoo at 10 a.m.):

I also look sleepy. 11:00 a.m. really?

dress codes:

goodbyes (our last morning in Milwaukee. I had already cried my mascara off, although I had become quite sweaty after single-handedly securing my car onto a U-Haul trailer, so the whole "look" could be attributed to either):

same games. new friends (slightly stronger alcohol...yikes):

continuity:

naivete (I'll let Brandon speak for the group of residents pictured in that, "We had no clue what we were getting into."):

giddy anticipation: