Family

The Anzelmo's :: Family Photo, Columbus, Ohio

The Anzelmo's :: Family Photo, Columbus, Ohio

Last week Edith and I went to Costco with my mom (a common occurrence) and they had a miniature playhouse there. [Enter, Edith's dream come true.] So, instead of doing any actual shopping, we, along with several other passersby (who we soon came to find were also grandmothers), watched her play for 45 minutes. One of my favorite stay-at-home-mom activities to date :-)

I'm fairly sure that little house was the same as the one you see in these photos, thus proving little playhouses prove to be excellent investments (plug for Costco in hopes of free diapers?). These girls and their personalities were so much fun to catch on camera.

Enjoy!

Rachel

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My Mom, My Dad and Nat :: Family Photo, Columbus, Ohio

My Mom, My Dad and Nat :: Family Photo, Columbus, Ohio

My mom sometimes talks about how rough it was, right after my little sister Natalie was born. She tells about how she had moments of deep and difficult wondering how it could all work out, raising a baby that was so different from her other six children.

Early last week, my sister and I joked around with my mom about how crazy it would be for us all to drive to the pro-life march in Washington D.C. She was across the country visiting her family, and we were looking at two babies, five adults (two of them frantic moms), strollers, carseats and luggage, no sleeping, and one very tight car. Like we said, it'd be crazy to go.

It's not at all surprising that not even a day later, my mom got a flight changed, lost her luggage, bought back-up toiletries, and made it happen so that she and Natalie were packed and ready to drive through the night to D.C. There we were, rolling into D.C. at 4am like we always knew it would happen.

I think there's a part of the fight that my mom fought 25 years ago that's still unfinished, and it is that of echoing the same grace-filled whisper she heard, "You can do this. You were made for it. I will help you."  It's the same thing she told me when I brought my baby home.

That's why we went this year and that's why my mom took us some 10 other times growing up. It's a peaceful way of passing momentum from one mother to the next.

Of course these aren't her words, they're mine, and I'm only telling it as I observe it to be as her daughter. And while this story is mostly about my mom, there's a whole lot of my Dad and Natalie in there. Who, like a champion, drove across the city in a pinch for those back-up toiletries, texted us hourly to check on us, and made oddly useful route recommendations? My Dad, supportive as ever. And who squeezed willingly in the smallest back-row seat the whole trip, upheld her standing title as "baby-whisperer", and maintained group morale by chanting upbeat songs at any given moment? Natalie, as wonderfully herself as ever.

This is only my most recent reason for being thankful for these three people, but there are many more. Being with my Mom, Dad and Natalie makes you start to think that three's not a crowd. Three is most definitely a party.

Enjoy, 

Rachel

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Our Christmas Photos :: Family Photo, Columbus, Ohio

Our Christmas Photos :: Family Photo, Columbus, Ohio

After the holidays this year, I found myself feeling like Christmas entertained me for a minute and then dropped me like a middle school date. You know how it feels. You question the meaning of life and where all the warm, fuzzy feelings have gone.

I went into Christmas very determinately trying to avoid this sweep of post-Christmas blues. I tried to focus specifically on the Catholic liturgical calendar, which so beautifully waxes and wanes in and out of seasons of preparation and celebration. Despite my efforts, I found that I slipped again!

Don't get me wrong, we get into celebrating at the Magree house. But, I may have watched one too many Hallmark movies, ate one too many Christmas cookies, and definitely, definitely bought Edith too many gifts (...not feeling guilty about this, though. Who knew how fun it would be to buy kids presents at Christmas..!!) And when it was time for it all to end, I had a hard time letting go.

It wasn't really until I let the sound of the celebration die down that the silent and humble whisper of the everyday caught my attention. I remembered once again how good life is when it wanes back into simplicity.

So, today, I'm posting photos of my two best reminders of the goodness God gives me.

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Thanksgiving at Saddle Path

Thanksgiving at Saddle Path

Thanksgiving competes for my favorite day of the year. It is a sensational climax. Every year when I was little, I would wake up to spiced and sweet smells wafting from the kitchen and the buttery croons of Nat King Cole or one of the other Christmastime greats gently serenading my mom as she'd be pinching pie crusts. I don't wonder why I'm so sentimental.

A while ago, with kids having kids and friends becoming family, Thanksgiving at my parents house started to burst at the seems. We were past adding chairs to tables - we had to add tables to rooms. This is when it started to get really good. We'd all pray, eat the meal together and sip wine until we all brimmed over with goodness. And just when we couldn't take any more in, we'd all get quiet, and start to let the gratitude spill out. There from our chairs we'd go around and each one, from the mashed potato covered little ones to grandmas and grandpas, would say the thing we'd been most thankful for that year.

The things would range from homes bought and sold to babies born to pumpkin pie. But last year was an especially good year for thanksgivings. It was a happy heart - that my mom over half way through her chemotherapy and seemingly reborn into joy, it was my much prayed for and finally achieved pregnancy. It was my people: my little wide-eyed Edy Clare and my best friend and super man husband who cares for me so I can care for her. Oh, a full and happy heart. 

And this year I'm all filled up with thanksgivings again. A just-right-for-us home to call our little corner of the world, a furnace that (mostly) works, siblings we call friends, a church community that pushes us to Jesus, a country where we can be free to pursue Truth ardently. For my Edy Clare. For my husband. 

So, you can bet that I'll be in my kitchen with Nat King Cole tomorrow, spreading all that sensational, magical Thanksgiving Day gratitude around my home, just like my mom did. 

Happy Thanksgiving to you. May your hearts and stomachs be full!

Rachel

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Emma Lu :: Infant Photo, Columbus, Ohio

Angela, her sister, my sister and I had a band when we were in middle school. It was a band, and not a band. It didn't involve music and mostly entailed us jumping on the trampoline for hours. Since then, hours of letter writing, phone conversations and impromptu highway exit coffee meetings between cities have kept us close enough that now our little girls will call one another friends, too. Enough about us, though. This is Angela's daughter Emma Lu. Let's focus on her squish factor: it is second to none. How thankful am I for this friendship that is overflowing into the next generation!

Enjoy!

Rachel

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