Going to the park with Olivia:
Dinner al fresco:
Painted closets, filled with the china I’ve been waiting and waiting to use:
No rugs, mish-mash place-holding furniture, no molding, BUT. Getting there:
Tucked in the corner, ready for a new little one:
We have a tree. It’s lit, strung, and ornamented. Of course, it’s currently on it’s second lighting/stringing/ornamenting, thanks to the tumble it took last evening. Not much is as disheartening as a Christmas tree laying flat on your living room floor, surrounded by glass casualties. *sigh*
But it’s standing again, huge and wild and beautiful. Monday morning, this tree was growing in our backyard, part of a quartet of pines, but my daddy’s saw turned the quartet into a duo, and we got ourselves free Christmas trees.
Yesterday, there was the organized chaos of a nana, two mamas, three aunties, an uncle, and countless cousins (I don’t dare say a number; I’ll most definitely leave one out!) in our family room, beautifying the tree. Ornaments that had been given the last few years, but had never had a tree on which to hang, were unwrapped and rediscovered and put in their rightful place. Memories of honeymoons, first Christmases, road trips with the family, grade school teachers, and many more were shared. Glass, felt, porcelain, cross-stitch, all in between rows of red and white beads. Sparkling birds are clipped to the ends of wild branches — branches which invited live birds only weeks ago.
And, of course, the almost-invisible wire that Ryan used to tie the tree last night at 10:30.
This morning, I got to watch my very own little boy run from his bedroom to see our very own tree for the very first time.
Our first Christmas here, in this wonderful home, sitting right in the midst of a beautiful winter wonderland.
We were away for 5 days, visiting Maine and people we love. Aunties, cousins, a puppy dog, and grandparents — does it get any better? Jameson brought dress up (which he wanted to wear every day), got a new “big boy” car seat, tried his hand at dunking for apples (and got thoroughly water-logged in the process), and played golf all day long at his Papa’s house. William got late birthday gifts (staggering presents really should happen every year; isn’t it way fun?), went out alone for sushi with Daddy (turns out he doesn’t love chunks of raw fish the way his brother does), and got to hand out candy on Sunday night with Jameson (the two of them sitting on a bench by the door, looking out the window? Adorable.)
We had fun.
We also managed to fit adventure into our drives: on the way there, Ryan almost ran out of gas, and we were driving down New Hampshire country roads late at night, hoping for a gas station. On the way back, I helped out by driving for a couple of hours — except that one of those hours, I was on the wrong highway, heading in the wrong direction. Lot of help I am.
But we got home.
I love coming home.
And I don’t care how local and organic the restaurants in Burlington are, I’d rather eat at home. (My local, organic Swiss chard is just as good.)
My baby William is a little boy. Granted, he’s a little boy who still has chubby little arms, who barely talks, and who still loves to nurse, but he’s not the baby he used to be.
Our little boy William quietly mimics everything Jameson — or Merrick, or Aubrey — does. He wears a holster carrying a red plastic cap gun almost all day long. He is not intent on becoming Leader of the Known World, but neither is he at all a push-over. Recently, he can be heard at any given moment sternly and adamantly telling Jameson, “Na! Na, na, na, na!” (No.) I wonder sometimes if getting bent out of shape is his passion in life, since he seems to go out of his way to be upset by anything and everything! He hugs me oh so tightly and loves for me to cuddle him close whenever he’s sad. He’s started giving great big kisses, too, which is the sweetest of surprises. He absolutely LOVES the worship time at church, and dances, claps, and waves his chubby arms the whole time. (He also hates the nursery. Oh well.) He adores Ryan. If there’s any indication that anyone is leaving the house, he goes into panic mode, desperately concerned that he may be left at home. Watching him run down our long hallway is one of the most amusing things I’ve ever seen — especially if he rounds a corner, at which point he steers with his arms.
He is such a blessing to our family. And as much as I can’t get over how old he is, and how much I miss that little baby, I am absolutely enthralled by these unique, fun, oh-so-adorable little boys that I have the joy of mothering.
The green outside my window has faded into the mellow tones of summer’s end, and I realize that August is almost over. So amazing…
:: My mom was a lead in Annie, and I helped to make her fab 1930’s wardrobe. (My sister gets the credit for the amazing hair, though.)
:: My grandparents were here for almost a week. They brought their little dog, who was a huge hit.
:: The boys and I joined the family for a week on Long Island. It was, of course, wonderful.
:: The next week, the boys and I were home alone (while Ryan was on a work trip.) We had work-outside-days, picnics, and lots of William asking “uh-Dah?”, with his little upturned questions hands. (Interpretation: where’s dad?)
:: This week, we’ve been doing what feels like not much, but I read this post, and wow. I needed that. (The visible productivity is over-rated.)
:: My favorite height-of-summer recipe for this year is, hands down, Scalloped Tomatoes. (I used whole wheat batard with the crusts on. And one time, stirred in cubed mozzarella with the basil to make a one-pot meal.) Wow. So, so good, and I know that come February, I’ll be having dreams about the incredible sweetness that is garden-fresh tomatoes.
:: I try to stay a little bit in the loop, and regular emails from them help. Have you signed the petition?
:: A friend’s questions about breastfeeding gave me an excuse to re-visit favorite articles. (And to remember that part of my day’s productivity is still nourishing another human being. Being tired is okay, spending lots of time sitting and nursing is okay. It’s all okay.)
:: Heading out to an Amish farm today to pick up a bushel of peaches. It’s not a quick trip, but it’s a beautiful drive. And I think I’ll take all of those un-busy minutes of driving and turn it into some time with Jesus. Perfect.
Last night, Ryan, Jameson, and I went with my grandparents to see Annie. It was so much fun. (Watching my mom and Merrick on stage is bound to be entertaining.) Back at the ranch, Camilla and Jess were whipping up a batch of cookies with William:
