This is just a fun little post to share some of the little things that make me happy. These aren’t necessarily my only “favorite” things, but they are a few that came to mind quickly. So, in no particular order, here’s a quick little look at things I’m taking time to appreciate today, this week, and in this season of life.

Summertime

It’s here. It’s finally here. The sun is up when I wake up in the morning, and it lingers long into the evening. It’s warm during the day. I can wear shorts and sandals. I don’t have to mess with sweatshirts and coats and blankets and hats for the kids whenever we leave the house. It’s pleasant to be outside, which makes it easier to entertain a busy toddler (and an almost-as-busy baby.) Walter loves to play with water and it’s finally warm enough to let him. I can sit outside in the evening with a can of LaCroix and edit photos or work on writing blog posts or write in my journal. And, while I maintain that Christmas is the best holiday, the 4th of July is a close second. Summertime cookout food is the absolute best: burgers on the grill, fresh fruit, baked beans (especially my mom’s homemade ones,) corn on the cob, s’mores, and other things I’m sure I’m forgetting.

You’re welcome to love fall all you want, but summer will always be my favorite season.

Phoebe’s soft head resting on my shoulder before she goes to sleep

She’s 7 months old and she’s getting so big and so busy. As a newborn, her favorite place to be was curled up on my chest. Now, she prefers to sit independently on the living room floor, or crawl around the room, exploring. I love watching the delight on her face when she plays, and I miss the days she spent snuggled up on top of me.

Before naptime or bedtime, I put her in her cozy sleep sack and hold her while I turn her sound machine on and her bedroom lamp off. As soon as the lamp goes dark, she drops her head onto my left shoulder and scrunches her knees up, making herself nice and comfy while I sing to her. It reminds me of the newborn days, which weren’t that long ago, when her entire body fit on my chest. I’m trying to savor the weight of her sleepy body melting against mine, the feeling of her soft baby hair against my chin, and the sound of her soft breaths as she settles down to sleep.

Analog photography

In case you missed last week’s blog post, I’m working on a project where I’m taking one photo on film every day until I use up a roll of film, and I’ve really been enjoying it. I have about a week and a half left before I finish the roll. Working on this project has really re-ignited my interest in analog photography and I definitely want to keep up with it!

I’m shooting on 35mm film using a Canon A-1 that is technically my mom’s. It’s a simple, manual, mechanical camera with no electronics except the light meter. It’s so different from using my powerhouse digital camera (my Nikon D850, which I adore) and I like the challenge of slowing down and shooting on film. As I’m typing this, I’m likely moments away from pulling the trigger on the purchase of a Nikon F100—a “modern” 35mm film camera that would be compatible with my Nikon lenses. I think it would be cool to have a film camera that can use the lenses I know and love, and I also like the idea of having two 35mm cameras—one loaded with black and white film and one loaded with color, or one for a specific project like the one I’m working on now and another for more casual use.

This morning, Walter was watching “If You Give a Mouse a Cookie” on Amazon Prime (a cute TV show based on the book) and Mouse was taking pictures with a Polaroid-esque camera. I pulled my Instax Mini instant camera out, and this afternoon (after I charged the battery) I showed Walter how it worked. He thought it was pretty cool to see the film come out the top. I let him take a picture with it, and of course he loved that.

When Walter plays his guitar and sings “Good God Almighty”

Walter loves guitars, probably because he likes to watch his dad play electric guitar and electric bass. He even has his own little guitar that was gifted to him by a lady at church. A while back, Brad was often playing along to Crowder’s “Good God Almighty” on his electric guitar, and there is something about that particular song that really captured Walter’s interest. He loves watching the music video of Crowder and the band dressed all in white as they’re performing it. He loves it when we sing it in church or when it comes on the radio. He especially loves it when Daddy plays it.

I especially love it when Walter plays it. He picks up his little toddler-size guitar and says, “I’m Crowder!” then strums the nylon strings as he sings his favorite song. He knows the entire chorus, word for word, and part of the first verse. I had to learn the words, too, so I can sing with him. Sometimes he asks anyone around him to stand up and clap while we sing. He can pretend anything is a microphone to sing into.

It’s only fair to admit I’m not always in the mood to sing, or to stand up and clap, or even to hear the loud strumming of his little guitar. But his enthusiasm for music and that song in particular, his imagination, and the way I can tell he looks up to his Daddy are really cool things to see in my little guy.

Iced vanilla lattes

Honestly, this one can really speak for itself, but I’ll give it a little paragraph so it doesn’t feel left out.

I didn’t start drinking coffee until I was in college. I’d tried it. I didn’t like it. I don’t like anything that tastes bitter and it still boggles my mind that there are people out there who drink their coffee black and actually like it that way. (I’m calling out my husband and my sister in particular here.)

I don’t remember what exactly compelled me to give it another try. Maybe it was just the appeal of the “coffee culture” of college, or maybe it had to do with how much my roommate loved it, or maybe it was out of necessity when I was tired but had to focus on writing a paper on a Saturday afternoon. At some point in college, I realized mochas were actually pretty good. When I was working full-time and there was coffee available in the breakroom, I realized putting hot chocolate mix in coffee made a pretty decent “poor man’s mocha.”

I still don’t like plain black coffee, but I’m really into flavored lattes right now. I was obsessed with caramel while I was pregnant with Phoebe, but lately vanilla has been my favorite this summer. There’s nothing like tossing Walter in the car for a nap on the go and picking up an iced vanilla latte for the drive.

There are a lot of good things (and a lot of hard things) about the season I’m in. Iced vanilla lattes are one of the good things.