Spring

Is there anything more hopeful than a pallet of flowers?  First fling with annuals.  Wish me luck.  Pictures to follow but only if they look good. 

Blocks are the great toddler equalizer. 

The bright side of this little habit is never again having to hold him down screaming while trying to cut his toenails.

First time fishing in Jackson Harbor.  He was convinced he'd caught a "big one"...even if it was the lure.

Homemade raspberry sourdough waffles.  Worth the mess.  (Thank you Grandma Gloria for the waffle maker)

Frosty the Snowman

Post-Christmas Wrap

I emerged unscathed from the holidays.  Its a Christmas miracle. 

But really, for a decade or so Christmastime was not such a big deal.  There were quite a few holidays during my twenties I didn't spend with my family.  When I lived in Denver it was expensive and hard to fly home during the busiest salon season of the year.  Everyone should spend Christmas Eve in a nightclub at least once in their life.  (If nothing else, to appreciate NOT ever having to spend Christmas Eve in a nightclub again.)  One memorable year was spent with a friend's family from Albuquerque eating the best green chile I've ever had.  Another in Australia, eating seafood and drinking champagne on the beach.  There were a few (okay, more than a few) Christmas celebrations with my family that I experienced through the dense, queasy fog of an epic hangover. Not like when I was a child and Christmas was hotly-anticipated and filled with excitement that went on for what felt like months.

Once you have a child of your own however...everybody wants a piece.  And of course one feels compelled to create magical Christmas family traditions and experience the wonder of the season through said child's eyes, all while trying to accomplish twice the amount of normal things one tries to accomplish in a given day and not gain 500 lbs over the course of what is essentially a nonstop month-long buffet and open bar.  Oh, and travel.  Oh, and family. 

Its a lot to put oneself through and in the end, no matter how much fun it was and how much I really enjoy seeing even the craziest of my relatives and how many joyful moments there are and how many blessings I count, I'm happy to be back to "normal".  To settle into the next few months of curling up and cozying down and slowing the pace waaaaaay down.

So here's to the holidays, may the stress and spare tire fade away and the memories of love and laughter stay forever.

                                                          

December 14, 2012

From now on, when anyone asks me how Max is, instead of sighing and saying something like, "Well, he's very two", or (if its another mom usually) launching into the laundry list of difficult toddler behavior he's exhibiting lately, I'll be saying, "Max is bright, funny, happy and healthy and I'm so grateful for his presence in this world I want to sob just thinking about it."  And then they'll probably puke.  But its overwhelmingly how I've felt since the events in Connecticut last Friday.  I've resisted facebook posting about it, have not read more than the bare, tragic facts, and refuse to moralize or politicize it.  Instead I hold onto what is dear to me, mourn all the innocent suffering in this world, and pray for peace in my heart. 

And watch this over and over and over:

Let's Pretend This Isn't The First Time I've Posted In 6 Months, Hmmmm?

Max learned to say "cheese".

...and he's going to be 2 (2!!!!!!!!!!!!!) in 3 days.  And I want to kiss/squeeze/snuggle him about 600 times a day.  Except when he's hiding under our bed when we need to be leaving the house 5 minutes ago, yelling "no, mama no, mama no, mama!" at me and waking up for an hour in the middle of the night to sing "bringing home a baby bumbleBEEEEEEE, won't my mama be SO! PROUD! OF! ME!" at the top of his lungs. 

Wild Kingdom

Rural living is relatively new to me, so I get inordinately excited about all the wildlife literally in our backyard (unless its big bugs. Not so then.) Early summer and its attendant yard work (Vegetable garden! Flower beds! Watermelon patch! Putting in a back lawn! Eesh. Bite off more than we can chew much? But I digress) means we are outside, puttering around the house a lot, communing with nature.

First there was this little guy trapped in a window well:

I heard his vain attempts at leaping and fluttering out while picking rocks out of topsoil in the garden one early evening. We put him in a box in the garage with some chicken feed and pear pieces overnight. I intended to take him to Jackson Harbor and let him go the next day. I was watching a friend's little boy and figured the children would get a kick out of watching the baby waterbird released into his wild home (ah, teachable moments). But the baby bird had other plans-he wouldn't leave his box.

 Clearly I had made far too cozy of a home for him, or he wasn't ready to be on his own and had adopted me as his new mother. Obviously we had to keep him as a pet, if for no other reason than to see what kind of bird he grew into (despite copious Googling I could not find a match for him. Webbed feet, pointy beak, black and white markings...I'd still love to know what he is if someone out there has more bird identification ability than I).

I spent an entire Max naptime building a more permanent enclosure for the bird.  (As anyone who has been following this blog and is aware of Max's dubious sleep habits knows, this is an enormous sacrifice for me. Usually I spend his naps sleeping or reading or some other self-focused activity). I used leftover garden fencing, added a plastic pond, some grass clipping for nest material, more food...it was a baby waterfowl paradise. Less than five minutes after I introduced him to his new home, he squeezed through the fence and took off into the woods, cheeping hysterically.

Asshole.

Speaking of assholes, the very next day, this guy was thrashing around in another of our window wells (which clearly double as animal traps):

Now I'm not scared of snakes. I generally like them. I was quite happy to wait until Max woke up (another teachable moment!), grab my gardening gloves, scoop it out and release it.  I reached down into the well and grabbed it around the middle and....it bit me! Good thing I wore gloves. (Initially I wasn't going to as it was only a grass snake. Not poisonous, mellow. Right.)

I reacted by chucking it away from me (Max was safely on the deck the whole time, watching). Instead of retreating into the woods or under the deck like a NORMAL snake, it turned around and struck at me again! I was floored. I'd never seen a grass snake act like that. So I grabbed a big stick and used it to prod the damn thing into the woods. It hissed and coiled and struck and attacked the entire time. All to Max's shrieking chorus of "Bee say! Bee say!" (translation: "big snake! big snake!").   In hindsight, it was likely a mama with a nest and eggs nearby but still...I SAVED you! Those snake babies would be snake orphans if it wasn't for me.

Lessons learned: Wild animals are jerks and check your window wells daily or something is going to smell really bad come July.

Kids, Man

Max and I spent a thoroughly enjoyable afternoon with our friends Laila and Walter and their goats. Mama goat, Wink, had her twins about a month ago. Not only have we been lucky to get some delicious fresh goat's milk, but Max gets to hang out with baby goats. At first I was a little nervous as the babies, particularly the girl, are rambunctious. Turns out, 3 week old baby goats and 17 month old baby humans are on about the same wavelength. The goats didn't mind Max and Walter chasing them and hugging them. Max and Walter didn't mind getting jumped on and head-butted. In fact, Walter, all 11 months old of him, head-butted right back. All babies, goats and humans, were equally affectionate and curious and playful with one another and evenly matched on strength. Max and the twins shared a love of exploring the random piles of wood and old farm machinery, jumping and climbing, while mama goat and mama humans looked on. It was an awesome day.