Watch out where those huskies go...

and don't you eat that yellow snow!

In my short lived Virginia experience, I believe most people we have met along the way are quickly exhausted by temperatures below 40 and inclement weather.  I internally laugh (and sometimes out loud...) anytime someone says "I just can't wait for spring" or "I'll look forward to the snow being gone".  I mean...really?....It has snowed once.  It is my observation that most people don't invest in proper gear, resulting in poor outdoor experiences.  No kid or adult wants cold, wet feet or fingers.  

Hesitating to invest money in something their growing kids might wear a handful of times a year isn't a high priority and this is something I get (sort of).  And complaints regarding weather are all relative...I will likely be the hot, sweaty, and smelly mama refusing antipersperant, limiting climate control, and crying about the humidity this summer.  In fact, I know this will be true.  So yeah, Virginia friends I'm totally not trying to white wash you - in fact there is a nice handful of you that appreciates this weather as much as we do - and if you are one of the many counting the days down to spring...well that is ok too.

My rant diverges.

So, what I'm really trying to get at is....this snow has been awesome.  I mean ...the snow itself was dry and not exactly snowman material...nevertheless there have been attempts, there has been sledding, Aaron has reveled in teaching the kids Zappa lyrics about yellow snow, snowball fights, and walks in the woods (err...along paved paths).  But it really has done us good.  The air is crisp and there is a fleeting sense - almost an urgency most days to get out and lay down in the cold stuff while it is here.  

cast off to cast on

I started this small sweater, another EZ Baby Surprise,  months before the Arlo's arrival.  It has sat bundled in a basket on a shelf.  I haven't had motivation to knit, I don't know if it was the move or the project or what...but had no desire to pick it back up.  Thankfully my knitting slump is over and I am falling in love all over again with my yarn, my needles, my time and the sweetness that is babies in their sweaters.  My spinning wheel is scheduled to be returned good as new this morning (the move was a little tough on her) and a package of blissful yarn arrived in the mail yesterday from a friend so dear my heart jumped with excitement and my eyes simultaneously filled with tears of gratitude (and sadness of distance - yes that is certainly still there).  Sometimes all I need is a project in my basket - something in my hands - something that grounds me and helps me find my breath.  

And sometimes you have a friend that reminds you of those simple things and you can't help but feel how lucky you are to have so many amazing people in your life that support you in ways you could never expect.  

Thank you.

a weekend in a nutshell

This weekend looked a little like the moments captured above.  Often times weekends are less than what we hope for... what we dream of all week.  Short nights of sleep, small people demanding love and attention, tears, shouts, quick words and eye rolls (yes that would be me...queen eye roll).  This weekend was nothing short of just that.  Even so- there were smiles, laughter and rest - even as inadequately dispersed as they now feel.  Those are the moments I'm clinging to today.  All the times Owen made it to the potty, the delicious homemade v-day pasta, the knitting accomplished, the bread baked, the yogurt made, the imaginative play, the puzzles, the fresh cream in my coffee and the warmth of a fireplace.

isabelle is sulking here and refusing a photo
....it is about 6:30 a.m. when I snapped this photo
...i was sulking too.

And it just so happens that we get another shot at a "weekend day" today.  The first real snow fall we have had down here closed the Park Service and we have another day to enjoy the sweeter moments together.  Aaron is off to find some skiing and/or snow shoeing, muffins have been made, there are plans to venture to the library, the kids cloths are drying for their next trip out and I will be letting go of expectations and embracing imperfections.  

oh for the love of poop

There always has to be a poop story I guess...right?  I remember Owen's moment of poo almost three years ago...but yesterday...this was far worse.  Let's just say that if you were to take a glance at my google searches for the day you would find the following: My baby ingested cat feces.

Yup. That happened.

So that cute little fuzz ball Maple somehow managed to have a large clump of shit (yeah...I have no patience for poop...it was shit...cat shit) on her butt and decided to rub her butt all over the floor.  With cloudy 7 a.m. vision Aaron thought he had wiped up all the dried smudges of cat shit art on the floor.  However, while on his morning commute through the house and while the rest of us were eating oatmeal and slowly sipping life back to our bodies, Arlo hit the jackpot...apparently.  He creeped his way back into the kitchen and whined at my leg - I suspected he had his morning poo and was ready for a diaper change (which he normally does during his morning commute) and picked him up...only to find my sweet sweet baby with a ring of slimy brown around his mouth.  Oh no...oh no no no no...it can't be...a swift smell confirmed...cat shit.  I, now on adrenalin, ran to clean him up and then subsequently grabbed the cat to dunk her ass in water and wipe off any of the remaining....followed by me frantically washing all the floors.  Owen marched through the house declaring "oh shits" and it was the first time I have ever wished to have bleach in the house...but alas, vinegar and soap did the job.  As for Owen's potty talk...I let that go...because he was clearly repeating what he had just heard.  With the house cleaned what was there to do...but make a few calls...test the waters so to speak - was this so bad that I should never mention it again...or can I laugh about this?  First to my dear friend who confirmed that this was funny and that yes...indeed shit happens.  The second to my mom...who confirmed...yes caitlyn get off the phone and call the doctor...now.  So yes...I went on to explain to several different goggly eyed women about how it came to be that my 7 month old sweet baby ate cat shit.  Oh this day...I can't wait to tell Arlo's future parter all about the slimy ring of cat shit around his mouth and how we went on to get blood work done to (hopefully) confirm that he hasn't contracted toxoplasmosis.  Goodness...how do these things happen?

And well, the shit story doesn't really end there...but on a much sweeter note.  Owen, for the first time ever, pooped on the potty last night.  A parenting win - a literal jump for joy and high fives all around - Yes...I truly needed that.

a third child

You are 7 months old today and you are most certainly a third child.  You take naps anywhere you can get them, you steal pizza crust while no one is looking and you smile almost every time we meet eyes.  You can keep yourself busy chasing toys, siblings or kittens for an unreal amount of time.  You giggle relentlessly at your sister and brother, you are rocking back and forth on hand and knees and you are too fast at creeping from one end of the house to the other.  You have good nights and bad nights...good nights might mean you sleep for 2 or 3 hours bad nights might be you nurse every twenty minutes (or so it feels).  Last night was a bad night, you went to bed rosy cheeked and nursed constantly...a tooth may be the source of your discomfort.  

You are a third child, that is for sure, but I love you no less.  And I promise we, just me and you, have time together.  I do hold you...so much, if not in my arms you are snug on my back.  While your dad reads to your brother and sister almost every night, we sit and we giggle.  I sing to you and tickle your belly at each diaper change.  At least once a day I make tea for myself and we sit, rock and nurse - this is a gift to me and to us.  We have precious fleeting moments together, but they are moments that I hope are etched into your heart.  

a good backyard

A backyard is almost as important as the number of bedrooms when choosing a house to rent. This one is pretty good.  Enough room for the kids to run like mad men, a fort, space for a garden, and a nook for chickens.  While I have a few other items on my backyard wish list for my someday home, this will do just fine.  Something we have lacked in the past was a proper swing.  One strung so high it undoubtably touches the clouds and that sways back and forth as if in slow motion.  This swing...not in our backyard...but in our sweet neighbors (and open for daily use) is now a must in my dream backyard.

**

I removed yesterdays post... if you happened to see it and wonder where it went, 

it didn't end up feeling right...maybe another day.