Above, one of the photos from our Immigration Interview Photo Album.
When the Chaplain and I got married, we’d known each other for about 60 days. He had lived in the U.S. for a number of years as a college student. Since he was supposed to be leaving for seminary to become a Catholic priest at the end of the summer we met, he was here on a student visa.
When he dropped out of that program to marry me, he lost his status as a student. When we were deciding whether or not to get married, we knew if we didn’t get married, he’d have to go back to Tobago. And he already had bought the ticket to go back home.
My wise Grandma reflected when she heard that we were eloping that she had always said you should know someone through every season before tying the knot. She figured since it’s always summer in Tobago (with temperatures in the mid 80’s year-round, a rainy season and a dry season, I think in this case North-easterners can afford to generalize a little) and we met in the summertime, that we had covered our bases. I have always been grateful for her gracious perspective.
I remember watching Green Card, the 1990 rom com, with my family around that time with my new husband, and it was heh heh funny, not haha funny.
When I was in college, my favorite cousin was visiting our family on Long Island one summer. During that stay, the family went to the beach. She and I were doing our own thing. We wandered down the beach, talking to one another and enjoying the summer freedom and sea breezes.
As we walked, we came across a pick-up soccer game in the sand. The players had pulled up garbage cans to use as goals. Some of the players noticed us and smiled, gesturing for us to join them.
We hesitated.
On the way home from the airport after our trip to Branson, MO, my husband and I sat in the back of the car and chatted with my dad and our oldest son sitting in front. My son asked me about the fastest speed I had ever gotten a ticket for.
If you missed them, here are Parts I and II of the saga. To recap, we moved into our house in 2008, and were inspired from the get-go by our tiny but lovely kitchen from our first apartment as a married couple when we lived briefly on Long Island.
Little by little, I pulled the kitchen apart and put it back together again, with help from my family. And I painted. Again. And again. And again.
At this point, the kitchen wasn’t getting a lot better without tearing everything out and starting over, but I kept pushing. I trimmed my open shelving out with 1x pieces of wood I had lying around to prevent dishes from being pulled out accidentally, and to make the edges look beefier. I made matching curtains for all the windows using fabric from Joel Dewberry’s Heirloom line called Opal in Dandelion. It’s no longer in stock, but I mention it because the fabric matches the kitchen perfectly, and I like all the words: Heirloom, Opal, Dandelion. 
Our house got featured on Design Mom in March of 2014, which was fun, and helped me up my photography game. But I have trouble leaving well enough alone.
A year ago today, we welcomed a silly, sweet boy with a chill disposition into our family.
When I started looking at photos, I was overwhelmed by the love we all feel for our rainbow baby. 
During this difficult year, Seven has been a ray of sunshine in the dark night. 
He isn’t interested in following anyone else’s program, but he is content to make his own way without creating a lot of waves. 
As the past few weeks have gone by and he’s sprouted teeth and started to stand on his own, we’ve gotten a glimpse of what’s to come – when we have to say goodbye to our baby and hello to a little toddler. 
I know that no matter how big he gets, he will still be everyone’s Little Brother and my baby. 
He’s got so many people to watch over him, defend him, and tell him what to do. 
Hopefully that won’t put a cramp in his style.
Something tells me it won’t.
