Oh, hi!
I'm not really sure where to start this. Today I'm using one of my "day off" gift certificates I got for Christmas (BEST gift EVER). So far, I've run to the grocery store for some cough medicine because I'm tired of waking up in the middle of the night and coughing for hours, then greeting the morning exhausted. I've showered. I've managed some of our family finances. I have a pot of coffee by my desk, NPR turned up
loud while my family probably just finished Juniper's gymnastics class and is, as we speak, picking up our raw milk share "at the farm with the funny turkeys."
Usually, I make a point to enjoy the
now of parenthood, the moment we're in--chubby babies and toddler tantrums alike (
okay, I could skip the tantrums). But I'll admit, I've been looking forward to 2-and-4 since Hazel was born.
Just wait until they're two and four! You may have heard me say these words. And I'll also admit,
2 and 4! didn't come with the stroke of autumnal birthdays. But now?
Now? Now, we're at TWO and FOUR and it's awesome.
They have this whole
sisterhood that has nothing to do with me; their own magical little world. And granted, they've been playing together like peas in a pod for a good year, but that play has extended outside and Hazel's okay if I'm not there.
On this day, we were out all morning. I headed in to make lunch, they stayed out. I brought lunch out for our first picnic of 2014.
:: These days, Juniper has nary finished her last bite of breakfast before she slips on her boots and coat and heads outside. Just a month ago, it took a small act of divine intervention to get my kids dressed in all their gear and outside. In our world, snow is mundane and spring is magic.
Water! Mud! Robins! Oh my!
^Preparing to set sail on a pirate ship, in case you can't tell.^
Juniper: "Mama, we have a beach so close to our house! It's just a short walk. We don't even have to drive!"
^Hazel's signature scrunchy face and forehead injury.^
:: Life and emotions are such a yo-yo and parenthood exaggerates that fact. So one day I'm writing about this new independence, the awesomeness of
2 and 4! and the next day I'm beating my head on the kitchen floor (okay, not
really). I take the liberty to get myself dressed and cut my toenails, then I spend the next two hours paying the price.
Creamy crayons, which are not as washable as they claim, on: the floor, the kitchen wall, the table, the kids, the toilet, the sink, the bedroom wall, the wool rug. We clean up, we go outside. Hazel cries the entire time because she's two and wants to climb the tree like a four-year-old. It's our third day home in a row. A small town on a Sunday. We need to get out but there's no where to go. And just like that, awesome turns to awful and my head is on the kitchen floor.
And then, the coin flips again. Hazel goes down for a nap, I find my zen. We're back to awesome.
:: I know I haven't been in this corner for a while. But I
have been whiling away at a few projects. This one here: an oak toy chest Juniper received on her first birthday from her great-grandparents. It was made by their 93 year old friend, now gone. It was a little rough around the edges and has a heavy lid. I sanded it smooth as a baby's bum, rounded out the corners, put a safety hinge on the lid and a natural oil finish. My girls now have a dress up chest.
:: Got an early start on leeks, basil and lupine. Tomatoes and peppers next in line.
:: Scattered about my house and purse, tucked inside journals and piles of mail, are scraps. Kid quotes I've jotted down. Some adult quotes too (I need to write down more of these because really, we say some pretty goofy things to our kids). I have spent a few evenings consolidating these into a book. I'm almost done but I keep writing down more. A few random gems:
Juniper choosing squash seeds: "This one looks like it has a lot of love in it."
Hazel, singing to the tune of
Country Roads: "Mashed potatoes, take me home...."
Me: "We always eat dead things."
My man: "
Mmmmm. Yummy dead chickens."
Juniper, in her classic third-person: "Juniper's not a woman. She's just a girl making pancakes."
:: Once the kids are in bed, lately, I've been spent. And yet the need to do
something for myself is overpowering. All I could bring myself to do of late, is knit. I'll watch a movie and whip magic with two sticks and a length of wool. This here sweater is for me. (I told you I needed to do something for myself!) The first sweater-for-me in far too many years. The wool is handpainted "peaches" from
Mountain Meadows wool. It was grown, shorn, spun, and dyed in Wyoming. Actually, it has never left Wyoming. Love that.
This swirl of togetherness is everything I could have hoped for. This is it: the most important relationship I can cultivate, this sisterhood. It is the relationship that will endure beyond all others. For better or worse. I am aiming for the best. 
