Recycled

One of my favorite things about blogging is being able to look back and remember what was happening exactly one year ago. For us memory-impaired folks, this is so much fun. It's like living recycled days for the very first time, time and time again.

Mama Potts used to be able to tell us all kinds of things that happened "one year ago today" or "five years ago today". I loved hearing her tell of the stories of the past (well most of them anyway, except that one time in 5th grade when Sarah Doberstein poked me in the eye with her umbrella on the school bus and my mom drove down the street to confront her mama and daddy about it.)

One year ago today Coop looked like this:

Our sweet friend Susan gave him this precious monogrammed blanket before he was born and now his toes reach past the end of it when he lays on it. How can that be anyway?

A year ago Chris and I were worried that Coop was going to be the only 4 year old who still required a swaddle blanket to sleep at night.  We were debating whether it was acceptable to cut the bottom of the swaddle off since his toes were about to poke through it. Now we're shoppin for big boy jammies.

A year ago I had just finished my maternity leave (moment of silence please) and took a 5 minute "cat nap" in my car down at our corporate office only to wake up drooling on my seat belt strap with sleepy creases on my cheeks to find that I had drained my car battery by turning the key forward to have AC and tunes as I snoozed. Security officers had to jump start my car just so I could go home.

A year ago Chris had just finished chemo, "juice" session #3. A year later I am still marveling at how much grace and strength he has. We're coming up on five years this Friday and mercy me, I fall more and more in love with that man every single day. (I won't lie, we sure are hoping that this year leaves us with nothin' much to talk about.)

He had some night sweats back in July but we are praying and praying that they were just because it's 164 degrees outside and that's all. Kudzu survivors out there, do you ever stop worrying about every little teensy weensy little thing? My faith tells me to take a deep breath and live in the now, but every now and then I start to sweat and have to fight the urge to let my noodle Google.

We broke our tradition of taking a trip on our anniversary last year because we had to spend it sitting at the Cancer Answer. This year we're having a jam-packed mega-date weekend (in town) complete with a trip to the comedy club, Ricos, the movies, the Melting Pot, and who knows where else. We are just beside ourselves we are so excited.

Pistol Britches will be spending the weekend down on the farm. I bet his Grammie and Poppy Tots are counting down the days until they get to spoil him rotten. My mom even says that she can't wait to see him throw a fit because fits don't bother grandparents like they do mamas. Only thing is, Pistol Britches probably won't throw a single tantrum down on the farm. He'll be sweet and  sugary and my parents will wonder what on earth I've been talking about for the past week. :)