40.

my maggie.

seven-ish years ago i was her brother's girlfriend and we were meeting for the first time. she was pregnant (shh, only a few people knew), and i remember her not being able to decide what to order off of the menu. just when you thought she had decided, she'd change her mind. she blamed it on pregnancy, while david and luke coughed under their breaths. we had an easy conversation. i thought she was so sweet. and we hugged goodbye.

every encounter after that, as i got to know this girl more, i began to see the many beautiful layers of her heart. her thoughtful gifts. her passion for making things extraordinary. her great love for people. the joy she effortlessly exudes. her confidence and humility. her honesty and realness. the way she lets you in. the way she wants you to let her in, too. the way she accepts, teaches and inspires. the way she wants the best for you, no strings attached.

the way she dances the night away with you at your wedding with all of your best girls.

the way she hides a present in your closet for you to open on your worst day because she couldn't be there and wanted you to know she cared.

the way she comes to spend the weekend with you the day your husband boards a plane for iraq. and she almost makes you forget.

the way she takes your mind off things or lets you have things on your mind. it doesn't matter. she's always there to talk.

the way she takes you with her on her journey to live out her dreams - and she makes you feel like you're doing HER a favor.

the way she takes you on a girls trip to l.a. and you have the best shopping/lunch/dinner at the grove where you eat at the same bad, pricey restaurant TWICE just so you can have more wine and talking.

the way she tells you a story on the plane that she really doesn't want to tell just so you won't pee your pants because the flight attendant won't let you get up.

the way that she does brave things all the time.

the way she isn't afraid to tell you when she's afraid.

the way she is more excited about your "big news" than you are. or at least that she comes so very close.

the way she leaves her family and business for days to fly and be with you as you try to be something you have no idea how to be.

the way she holds your newborn all night so that you can sleep. and because she loves him that much and actually enjoys it.

the way she holds your hand at the doctor's office and sings twinkle twinkle to your son as you shed silent, heartbroken tears when he gets his first stitches.

the way that she knows your stories and you know hers.

the way she makes sure she is there for the big moments.

they way she creates big moments.

the way she never forgets to say i love you.

she loves big.

there may just literally be a million things about this girl that make her amazing. she is loved by many. and she is so loved by me. i always wish i got to know her for her entire 40 years, but i think we've packed just as much as we could in the seven-ish years we've known each other. she was just always meant to be my sister friend. and im so thankful God shined on me that one morning at breakfast when He first introduced me to a lifetime with my mags.

six months.

I feel like this post should be titled “Her Life Up Until Now” instead of “Six Months.” Kenzie hasn’t really received a lot of blog time. For the first three months she pretty much cried all day. That sounds like an exaggeration. It is not.

But to me, her beginnings of life won’t always be defined by her fussiness. In fact, the insanity of it all is sort of fading into the deep recesses of mind and those days are becoming harder to remember.

The untold story is that even during those hard months, I knew there was a happy baby in there. She would reveal her true personality by granting us brief moments of smiles and laughter. And they were show-stopping. A smile brighter than sunshine and a laugh that could make you cry. These were giant gifts to me back then, reminding me that greater times awaited us.

We are here. We made it. She is a delight, full of so many lovely things and a giver of joy. She is small and dainty, yet oozes strength and exercises her strong will. I like that combo. Not always, but mostly.

So many qualities make this girl precious. Her gorgeous head of soft brown hair that’s just now starting to curl. Her coffee-colored eyes. Her bunny cheeks and full, pink lips. The way she clasps her hands together and holds them in front of her face as if she’s praying. The way she isn’t quite into solid foods but can throw down a bottle of Nutramigen with the best of them. How she loves her baths and her Sophie and Baby Einstein. How she jumps in her jumperoo and enjoys being strolled around anywhere. How she coos and tries to imitate the sounds you make. Her amazing laugh when you kiss her cheeks, neck and stomach. How she is just now starting to be “steady” when I sit her down or carry her on my hip. Her ballet pose when we stand her up. How she is snug as a bug with in her swaddle and how we can just pop in a binky in the middle of the night … and she goes back to sleep.

She is a doll. My little doll. I die when I get to put her in dresses and stick big flowers in her hair. I think I will dress her in tutus for the rest of my life.

The word “disarming” comes to mind when I think of her. Such a grown-up word for such a little person. But it’s true. It’s what I notice all the time. She disarms people. When I’m at the mall and a huge biker dude with his bandana and leather and big tattoos comes up to me and squeals “She is so precious!” And makes goo-goo noises. When Caleb is pouty and she simply smiles at him and instantly he’s smiling back. When a stranger sees her and turns to complete mush and acts like we're best friends with our commonality being her. When it’s the wee morning hours and I am exhausted and can't keep my eyes open, but she coos quietly with her eyes fixed on mine. And I suddenly want to be awake.

She is disarming. She wins us over every time.

Happy six months little girl. The longer I know you, the more I know without a doubt that I've waited for you my whole life.

(this most perfect song is by Tyrone Wells. Buy all of his cds. Twice. He's really good.)