I just looked through these pictures tonight and smiled, thinking of how much fun we were all having, even though that faint hissing sound in the distance turned out to be the fuse of the bomb that was about to go off in my life. But, that, my little girls, is a story for another time. A story that it will take me a long time to write to you, a story full of twists and turns and sadness and love and friendship and grace and ultimately, I hope, redemption.

We spent the weekend in early February at my friend Carley's parents' house, otherwise known as the Lake House. As in, "Mom, are we going to the Lake House? We're going to the LAKE HOUSE!!! Molly, WE ARE GOING TO THE LAAAKE HOOOOOOUSE!!!!!!." The Lake House is a place full of wonder for you, little girls. It's a place where you get to sleep over with your best friends and stay up late and, depending on the season, ice skate, sled, boat, swim, fish, walk to the candy store or otherwise have the most fun ever. It's a place where the ceiling fans do little in the summer, but a swim across the lake does a lot. It's a place where you all drape around the furniture and listen to your mom read "Sarah, Plain and Tall" out loud. And it's a place where you run out of the hot tub and do snow angels in your underwear. Even your moms.