On a gray, winter-like morning...

I am cleaning up from the festivities of yesterday.

Poppy was blessed in church.

Sweet little Poppy cried through the entire thing, making her daddy quite nervous.

David gave a beautiful blessing as always.

I love all baby blessings,

but there is something especially tender about listening to a father bless his tiny girl.

We had a luncheon at our home after our meetings.

I received a new journal this weekend and knew pretty quickly what I wanted to use it for.

I love planning special occasions for my family,

usually jotting down long lists and ideas or sketches on paper.

I am hoping that it might be fun in years to come to flip back through this journal

and see the shopping list for a child's fourth birthday, or baptism, or graduation party.

Poppy's blessing is the inaugural entry in that little book.

I shared my thoughts about her blessing at the end.

But I suppose that I am also hoping somewhere down the road,

my family will read a bit deeper into the lists for

grainy Dijon and Gruyere,

and understand that those careful notes and planning are just evidence of

one way I attempted to show my love for them.

I hope they remember that we celebrated their important milestones,

that we celebrated them.