Happy Friday, friends!

I interrupt this self-quarantine with a picture of baby Maddie enjoying a subscription book box last year. I can’t believe how big she’s gotten; how much has changed. Especially given these unprecedented times.

As I've mentioned before, books have been an important part of our daily routine from the beginning. In fact, I don't believe a day has gone by over the past ten months without turning the pages of a sweet story

I bought Madeline her first book months before she was even in my belly- a board book version of Guess How Much I Love You. In the throws of fertility treatments, this purchase served as a reminder of the little one that would eventually come, and the memories we would someday create as a family. Today, that book will forever remind me of that strange time in our life.

Books are funny like that- serving as symbols of various events throughout our lives. Over the past several months I can think of countless examples: The Poky Little Puppy will always remind me of the time my six month old sat patiently while I read the entire book to her (and that's a long one, folks); Giraffes Can't Dance will always conjur giggles as I remember my husband's rendition; I will forever think of Valentine's Day when I see You Are My Sunshine; and Bathtime Peekaboo will always make me nostalgic for the first time my mother read to my daughter.

And the truth is, no matter how many books one has in their library- there is always room fore more stories; more memories to be made.