March 31, 2014

My dog eats goose poop.

You're not THAT surprised, are you?


March 17, 2014


I’ve always been drawn to the solstice. In the depths of winter, it’s the one day that gives me hope and something to hold out for. The days have started getting longer. The angle of the sun is changing. And I am so. ridiculously. excited. for the trees here to get their leaves. Since we moved here in autumn, we had a chance to see the gorgeous leaves color and drop, but I still haven’t seen everything in full foliage. And there are so MANY trees here! As a girl from Phoenix, it’s a bit mind-boggling… and no palm trees in sight! I’m still a bit taken aback by the plentiful greens here. And the WATER. It’s just… laying on the ground. Amazing. I love it. And even the snow and coldest days… there’s still the magic of knowing that spring and summer are right around the corner.

Can’t wait.

March 15, 2014

Big news, people!

You guys. We’re so dang excited. And scared. And nervous. And happy. And kind of pinching ourselves.


To fully understand the impact of our news, you need to have some backstory. Because we haven’t been super vocal or open about the past few months, you might be thinking: “Huh? I thought he had a job. No big deal.”

The catalyst for moving to Colorado was Alan’s job offer with a local meat company. We knew that I’d be able to transfer with my job, so the stability would continue to be with my position and income. We were pretty jazzed about the new opportunity, new locale – you get it. Heck, you were there to support it!

As a result of some poor choices and unfortunate timing, Alan had to stop working at the end of December. (We hope you’ll be gracious with your understanding here – this is still a raw topic and we’re not quite ready to delve into all the dirrrty details. Suffice it to say, we’re still working through the system to get back to normal, there’s positivity on the horizon, and we’re still so glad and grateful to be where we are!) So all of a sudden, we were down to one income and without any great prospects – kind of hamstrung by the situation we faced. Scary times.

Alan stayed home with James, which turned out to be the silver lining of our plight – these guys became best buds. (This is something that in my sneaking suspicion was really needed, especially since we were separated in the fall. Father/son time was really overdue.) And to be honest, it was really nice to have a consistent schedule, even if it was just mine. We saw each other. Had dinner together. Shared in the fun of James’ bath time. (There was a lot of travel in his prior position, which made this tough to come by.)

In the meantime, we put in application after application. Flipping burgers? Check. Retail? Check. Corporate? Check. We were turned down for being “too qualified”, or “not the right fit” or whatever else. Not only scary financially, but disheartening.

Finally, we got a glimmer. An initial contact, and a phone interview. Knowing the interview process could take some time, we were painfully, cautiously optimistic. Hopeful. Realistic. Days went by. A couple of setbacks – pushed interviews, excruciating wait times. A couple of weeks went by. This could really happen. We could get a shot. A last minute terror – would this be all for nothing?

After all of our hoping, praying, studying, practicing (because honestly – you don’t prep for a huge interview on your own – totally a group effort here), we got the phone call. Alan got hired. To be a stock broker (trainee). At my company.

*insert grin here*

Thank you thank you thank you. This is such a huge opportunity in so many ways. A chance to build a career. Pay off our debt. Save for a home. Get ahead. The relief in the Bagley house is palpable.

So now we’re working through some pre-first-day jitters. Just hoping to avoid the naked-can't-remember-your-locker-combination dreams. James will go back to the same daycare we used before (we’re so happy to go back!), and while we can’t carpool at first we’ll both be on a ‘traditional’ schedule.

We’re so so blessed. And I need to specially thank our family for standing by our side these past few months – my mother and father especially. We wouldn’t be anywhere without your love, patience, listening skills and reassurances. I’m also humbled by and grateful for our dear friends (Steph, Margi, Amber, Bobby, Matt, and my whole mama-community [Babes with Babies, I’m looking at you], to name a few) who were so careful and gentle with us during this hard time. Thank you for listening, talking, offering your support and love.

On to a fresh beginning.  

March 2, 2014

Shocked / Love Story

I think we all have a feeling about our lives, our loves. There’s this far-off, fuzzy picture of walking hand in hand, experiencing life together, growing old together. (Or yelling at passersby to stay off your lawn. No? Just us?) There’s no concrete picture, because that’s kind of impossible. No way to know what will come at you.

And as a young family, there’s a wealth of anticipation and excitement. You’re starting your journey. You’ve found each other, created a home together, created a life together. So much promise, so much love, so much uncertainty. But through all of the mundane, frustrating, repetitive hours – you see the beauty together. Laugh together. Plan together.

So it’s even more shocking when a love story is abruptly cut short. When you hear the news that a dear friend lost her husband, her love, the father of her young daughter. We’re grieving deeply for the Clark family’s loss.

We weren’t lucky enough to get to know Andy – James and I met him briefly before we moved to CO. But Ruby and Michelle? As part of the Babymoon Inn family, I got to know them before James was born, and I’m so thankful.

I can’t imagine what Michelle is going through right now. But I want to tell her how much she and Ruby have meant to us, and for her to know that we are aching with love for them. How can I tell her that simply seeing Ruby’s gorgeous rolls and smiles never fail to brighten my day? That being a first-time mama, I wasn’t sure how I was going to do it – how I was going to “get there”, but no matter what – every time I showed up to the birth center, she made me feel loved by just loving me.

After James was born, I went to my first mamas group at the birth center. James was 11 days old, and I was sore, tired, scared, and intimidated. What are all the other mamas going to think of me/us? What if James is fussy? What if I can’t figure any of this out? Michelle and Ruby were right there, so excited to see us, and so so welcoming. Encouraging us to pick out a spot to sit. Drawing us into conversation. Introducing us around the circle. Helping us break through our insecurities to laugh at the silliness of babies, the wonder and magic of motherhood, and the value of friendship from women who get it. From the beginning, I’ve looked up to her and wanted to internalize some of her brilliance, and remind myself to stay grounded and remember what is important.

Today, I’m reminded to hold my loved ones dear. To find that extra bit of patience for Alan and James (and myself). To make sure there can be no doubt how much I love them. To see the beauty, joy and grace in every day. This is our story, and it’s amazing – even if it doesn’t look the way I thought it would.

Michelle, thank you for helping me see the strength I carry within me. Thank you for your laughter and warmth and generosity and friendship.

I hate that I can’t figure out the right words… all of this is close, but not quite right. I hope that’s okay.

I am so sorry for your loss.


Support for the Clark family:

These prints are available to support the Clark family. The text is inspired by the life sentiment of Andy Clark, a man whose journey in our world was cut far too short.
All profits will be donated to his amazing wife, Michelle, and their 16 month-old daughter, Ruby, to help support them as they begin their new journey.