This Weekend We // Baby Shower For a Baby Sister

This weekend we celebrated Claire and Andrew and the imminent arrival of their son, my nephew, Jeffrey Cotton.  An almost certainly squirrelly little boy we are all certain to fall in love with instantly.

We ate loaded bagels and homemade blueberry muffins (Jan, I need that recipe). People mixed spicy bloody Mary's, though I went the way of the mimosa. My dad's signature Pandora station, seeded almost entirely with singer/ songwriters with prickly voices, played in the background, and I lamented the weather, which was reminiscent of the last shower we threw for Claire, now nearly two years ago. 

Although I have a fondness for all female baby showers and the feminine mystique that often shrouds them, I appreciated this celebration of life. A house full of people coming together to let the newest member know he is already loved. He already has a tribe to surround him and protect him. To laugh with him and play with him. To teach him and train him. And there is no lesson more important to instill in this new life than the importance of family. 

***

I can't wait to meet you, Jeffrey Cotton. I can't wait for long days at the beach with you. For sneaking you even a fraction of the treats that your mother has snuck my children. I can't wait to hear your tiny giggles. To watch you take your first tentative steps. I hope to me as good an aunt to you as your mama has been to my children. You are so loved, sweet, strong boy.

SHARE THIS | TWEET THIS

Firsts

As life goes on, you get less firsts. They become few. They become far between.

The first part of your life gets an unfair proportion. First bath. First tooth. First word. First step.

Yesterday was the first day that Arlo grabbed my hand to pull me along with him. He wanted more crackers.
And it was the first time he walked around our yard.

Arlo has been walking for awhile, but it's been winter, and we can't find shoes to fit has fat, little paws. But yesterday I let him muddy his socks and help Tom and Steve build our fire pit.

Two firsts in one day- those days don't happen to grown ups. 

SHARE THIS | TWEET THIS

Crannies and Corners: An Ode to House Plants

When I asked if house plants can be considered a hobby, answers were split. But I've decided that even if my Aunt Kathy isn't willing to include them among knitting and basket weaving, I can claim them as my pastime.

On the heels of feelings of restless, I've been happy in my home. And maybe my favorite part as of late is the bits of green that bring the outdoors in while it's colder and darker outside my doors. The bring me a silly joy. I am maybe a little too pleased with the avocado plant we sprouted from a pit, or the begonia I propagated from my mother's plant, which was propagated from my grandmother's, and my great-grandmother's before her.

The ficus behind the chair is our "marriage tree," given to us by friends at our wedding reception. Somehow no matter how that tree grows or what happens to it, it always seems like a metaphor.

This bulb on my table makes me anxious for spring and dirt under my nails, excited to get my shady little patch of yard to bloom as best I can. I have never been much for yard work, but I've gotten better at house cleaning, so maybe there's hope for me yet.

I love plants sitting on windowsills and trailing down bookcases. And Arlo might like them even more than me- they serve as toys and meals if I'm not careful.  He too likes dirt under his nails, but he also likes it in his mouth and covering his sweet chin.

I mostly think I like them because it's so wonderful to nurture something that, unlike my children, who I would like to freeze in-time at exactly the size they are this moment, I want to see grown and grow and grow.  I would like these stalks and leaves to reach my ceilings, but for my children to remain just as they are.

SHARE THIS | TWEET THIS

This Weekend- Arlo's Brunch

I can't get enough of this little guy with his big brown eyes and those strong, Weaver eyebrows, which will one day become a single eyebrow. 

His birthday was celebrated quietly and without much fanfare. He turned one on Tuesday, our lucky "snow day." But this weekend my parents, sisters, and a few boyfriends came over to drink a Bloody Mary's in his honor and to wake him up from a nap so he could eat cupcakes. He received only one present, a ball pit from my sisters. 

Mothers always say that their babies are sweet, smart, and good. I am no different. This boy is made of magic. He is pure wonderful. 

He looks just like his big sister, and he wears his big brother's hand me downs. He walks like a drunk, and his words are still completely incoherent. He is soft, and he gives hugs and waves bye-bye. He has finally started to sleep through the night.

He eats everything, but he prefers his food on a plate, and he tries to eat it with a fork, even if it means using his chubby little fingers to put the food on the fork. This morning, he laughed in his sleep. He really, really loves fans.  Like his mama, he is a third child. He remains our peace maker and joy giver, and we all love him so. 

Edit- My mom took exception to the only one present line. Arlo did, in fact, get several other presents that I forgot about because she gave them to him/ me early. Said presents include adorable pjs, handsome plaid one-pieces, and a new high chair. 

SHARE THIS | TWEET THIS

Snowless Snowday Birthday

Yesterday, on the anniversary of Arlo's first day, we all got a gift, an unexpected snowless "snow" day. No work, no school, just time for family, time for Arlo. And I should have been happy as a clam, but for reasons completely unknown to me, I was in terrible, terrible mood.

I tried to celebrate. I made a big breakfast and invited family over. Sena, Gus, and I baked a cake while Arlo napped. But nothing managed to get me out of my funk until Tom suggested we bundle up for a walk. The fresh, crisp air, a little exercise, and my sweet kiddos helped lift my spirits for a while. I mean, look at these faces, how dare I be grumpy in their presence? 

I would say I am a generally positive person (sometimes even obnoxiously upbeat, Heather). But I think it's important to practice happiness, too, to not take it for granted. There are so many habits, practices, and choices that impact my mood and attitude. I've been trying to think about what those things are, the things that bring me joy and contentment. This has been one of the best years of my life, and I will be sad to bid it farewell in a few weeks. I want to me mindful of my happiness in this upcoming year, and maybe use this space to help keep me accountable. I want to be the best mother, wife, daughter, sister, friend, and teacher I can be. When I look at those little faces of my little people in particular, it makes me want to work hard at being my best, happiest, most grateful. 

Happy birthday, Arlo. I will try to be the best mother to you I can be, this year and all my years.
 I love you with my whole heart.

SHARE THIS | TWEET THIS

Arlo Will Be One

One year ago tomorrow, I woke up frustrated and impatient, ready to meet a still unnamed little man who was not yet ready to meet me. I walked up and down the foggy boardwalk, mile after mile, trying to force his little hand. Tom drove me to my ultrasound appointment so they could check on him, two weeks overipe, and I hoped that I was not imagining my contractions. I was hoping he would still come on his own time, hoping that his own time was upon us.

And while they monitored his heartbeat, my water broke and we drove straight to the midwife, and a few short hours later, our big, fat boy was born.

And that boy has brought me so much joy. He has brought me happiness and peace with his rolls and his laughter. He has made our family better just by being with us.

Today, he is 27 lbs. He has 8 teeth. He has been walking for a month. He in enamored with fans. He rarely says words. He waves bye-bye and pats my back when he thinks I am sad. He is a bad sleeper and a good eater.

And he makes my heart explode daily.

Arlo at one month. 

Arlo at 2.

Arlo this summer. 

We'll be celebrating my youngest boy on Sunday, with birthday hats and brunch and a room full of family.

SHARE THIS | TWEET THIS

This Weekend We- Moment For Me

On Friday Tom and my dad took Sena and Gus to a local high school's performance of Princess Bride, which happens to be our family's favorite movie. Arlo hasn't yet come to appreciate the Man in Black and Buttercup, so I stayed home with my littlest.

The two of us put things away and folded laundry, stopping to play and practice taking steps. And I put him to sleep in a quiet house, and was able to get up and enjoy the quiet all by myself for a couple of peaceful moments. There was time to shower without rushing, time to clean up dinner dishes without interruption, time to waste in silence. And this extrovert who loves people to be coming and going, who loves conversation and kids in the other room, loved those moments with her whole heart. Not because she wants them often, not because she needs them the way some folks do, but because they were special.

The next day Tom took Sena and Gus fishing with friends, and Arlo and I got even more alone time. It was the most peaceful weekend and about as different from last weekend as it could be. I love both types of weekends. This was just the one I needed right now.  

SHARE THIS | TWEET THIS

Right Now

Likes:

mermaids, dancing, staying up late

Dislikes:

brushing her hair, pants, properly pronouncing "th" sounds

Likes:

fishing, ketchup, wrestling

Dislikes:

shoes, losing, being teased

Likes:

eating house plants, people laughing, pools

Dislikes:

sleeping alone, car trips, getting teeth

SHARE THIS | TWEET THIS

This Weekend We- Labor Day, Banjo, Beaches, and Babies

This weekend Arlo got to try try his hardest to bite his almost birthday friend. And Tom played banjo with his almost twin friend. And the men carried babies in slings down to the beach and we ate so much cheese and we cooked and then ate more cheese and there was time for porches and beers, cocktails and friendship, and it was good, really good.

There always seems to be time enough on three day weekends- time for estate sales and time to buy a min-van, and still time left for bluegrass and babies. I'm going to start a petition to working for instituting monthly three-day weekends. I hope you'll join in my cause. 

* Tom, I promise next time to get more pictures of you doing awesome manly things, such as smoking your pipe. 

SHARE THIS | TWEET THIS