This Weekend We

This weekend we tried to burn the Christmas tree that Tom drug up from a neighbor's trash pile just to discover that those flame retardant chemicals really do work.

We sat in the kitchen peeling potatoes, sweet and white, with friends, while kids tussled in the next room over.  And we all went to bed early, as we so frequently do, because putting babies asleep often kills the party. But the next morning we scrambled eggs to eat with leftovers and separated thin skinned friends before saying good byes nearly twenty hours after hellos.

This weekend we caught up with old friends, laughing about stories we've told and retold dozens of times. Supplying details for spouses who weren't there, all the while carefully doling out Valentine's Day candy to grubby little hands trying to take advantage of parental distraction.

This weekend we shared pancakes with pterodactyls and and played in a surprise snow storm. Tom and Arlo made the tiniest snow man. Sena swung and Gus sled into thickets. This weekend Arlo threw his first snowball, and we all warmed up with hot chocolate sweetened with honey.

This weekend we watched Moonrise Kingdom and reminisced about seeing it in theater after the ultrasound appointment that revealed that are third child would be a baby boy.

And now we end the weekend eating greens and chicken legs, flipping through Netflix, drink in hand, sleepy from days of relaxation.

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Snowy

I watch them from a distance. When I tried to head out with them, I wore myself out in moments. A short trudge around the yard left me in need of a nap. My mom assures me that my exhaustion is forgivable since I ran around this weekend. I'm not so sure, but I know that there is no sledding in store for me. So the rest of my snow break has mostly involved rereading Real Food For Mother and Baby and trying to catch up on laundry and cleaning. Trying to keep ahead of all the chores that will inevitably pile up when a little person requires hours and hours a day of sitting, a prospect that I don't find particularly unwelcome at the moment. 

I will never, ever take a snow day for granted. The slowness, the unexpected gift. There is no gift on earth as precious as time. Snow days creep along.  The light is bright and beautiful, and even when you only enjoy them from within warmish walls, their beauty soaks into you. 

This year Gus seems to have come to terms with cold weather discomfort. He complains less and stays out longer. While he has not yet reached Sena status for cold tolerance, he appears to be more at home in the wintry, white outdoors.

Today it's back to work, and a two hour delay makes the day just a bit easier. 

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Memory Keeping: The Coldest Days

The cold was bracing, a cruel winter's joke, but how to refuse those dark, serious eyes.

He counted "one, two" over and over, carefully walking up and down the brick steps.

He hid behind bushes, crunched through dried leaves.

He examined his hands, one covered in a mitten, the other housed in an old sock.

I begged to go inside. His simple "no" rang with joy.

He looked in amazement as his shoes imprinted the scant snow with patterns from his rubber soles.

"Come here, mommy," he instructed as though these corners of our yard had never been explored.

* My plan is to start a new "series"--simple snippets of moments I want to remember without pretending that there is no bigger or broader implication. 

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This Weekend- The First

It started with a snow day and then a birthday dinner for my dad. It ended with my boys playing chess and the most relaxing bath of my entire life. It included a house project and some errands, moscow mules with friends, the kids' first pair of shoes with laces. And mostly I was struck with the promise that this new year brings. I felt better than I have in weeks, excited and optimistic and incredibly grateful.

I could not feel happier about this first weekend of this new year.

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Spring Snow

It's spring. The ospreys have come back to claim their nest, and purple buds are trying to reveal themselves. I'm getting so very sick of the Steve Madden boots I've worn almost everyday since Arlo has been born, and I'm itching for sandals and cook-outs and Friday Night Farmer's Market. But instead, we got a snow day. We got a muddy snowman and a pathetic attempt at sledding.

We'll take the snow when we can get it, though I prefer it in the winter.

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