Nighttime surprise

Timothy still wakes up once or twice a night, although not always at the same time. Usually, unless he's sick or teething, he settles right back down after I feed him, but last night he wasn't ready to fall back to sleep. I rocked him for a little bit, and went back to bed, thinking he would make some noise and then fall asleep. Well, he did make some noise, and finally I decided I needed to go back to his room and check on him. Well, picture his position from the photo above but only in his crib. He's learned a new trick--one I didn't think he was ready for--and can now pull himself up in his crib. You can probably already guess that Shawn and I will be lowering his mattress tonight...

It really scared me when I saw him standing there. I think it scared him, too, as he didn't seem to know how to let go of the rail and get back down. All I could picture was his losing his balance and falling over the side--not a good thing to imagine. I'm in awe of how fast he's growing and of all the things he's learning to do, but it is clear I can't count on the things that seem 'safe' now. As much as I try to guess what he might get into next, I bet there will be so many things I don't think of until he beats me to it. That is probably a true statement for the next, well, 50 years.

Big news

Our first bit of big news is that Timothy is simply off the growth charts! We had his sixth month visit on Monday and he has maintained his incredible spurts of growth since birth, weighing in at over 22 pounds (the weight of the average 1 year old) and 29 inches tall (the average 10 month old). This has provided us with the added benefit of pretty large muscles, 'cause our little tyke really likes to be held!

The second piece of news happened this morning--our local college just called me up and asked if I was interested in being an adjunct faculty for this coming semester and the fall. It works out great, as it's an evening class twice a week, between when Shawn gets home and Timothy goes to bed. It's pretty exciting news for me--just three hours of week in class, but the chance to maintain my career in a college setting is quite an opportunity. That they're willing to work with me and childcare is amazing.

It's a good lesson for me, too, this job falling into my lap. Even though I've been so happy with my decision to stay home with Timothy, there was certainly a sense of loss of not teaching any longer. The lesson for me is that things happen when the timing is right, and generally, they're worth waiting for. Funny, this is something that has happened to me time and time again (usually when I reach a place of peace with where ever I am), but it's difficult to remember at times. Anyway, it's exciting news for me.

Bartering

I've started to tutor a few days a week at the school where I used to teach. It is great to have a good reason to get out of the house and an added bonus to continue to have contact with so many of the teachers and students that were such a treat to work with.

It is a cool community and it is possible for me to bring Timothy and have a student watch him while I'm tutoring. What is also interesting about this place is that the students who go there all, pretty much, have everything they could ever ask for, so money isn't a huge draw for them. Really, there are a number of girls who would watch Timothy just for the fun of being around a baby, but I'm going to recompense them by baking. Some home cooking that they just don't get at a boarding school. It's nice for me, too, as I've kind of cut out some of the baking I normally do--better for the grocery budget and our waistlines! But, now I have an excuse to bake away! Anyway, I kind of like the fact that money isn't part of the equation here--I can do something for them and they can do something for me.

The biscotti above were just for fun, though. I'll have to make something else for Wednesday!

Imagination

Slowly but surely we're getting some decorations up for Christmas. It has been nice just doing a little here and there--no pressure, no stress. We're getting our tree on Saturday and I am looking forward to watching Timothy's expression as we bring it into the house and start to decorate it. I can only imagine he'll consider it a toy--hmmm. I'll have my work cut out for me now that he is scooting around.

Timothy's not going to get the whole holiday thing this year, although I'm sure he'll have a blast tearing paper off of boxes. He LOVES tearing up paper. Could be his favorite activity. Thinking ahead to next year, and the many Christmases to come, I'm really excited about establishing our family traditions and helping to make it a magical time for him. Truth be told though, I don't feel the need to do too much this year. So many of the ways we celebrate Christmas are really there for the children in our lives (and perhaps the child in all of us) and my own little one won't be able to appreciate any of my efforts. I'm so excited about next year, though.

I wish I could remember a time when I truly believed in something magical the way children do. To actually feel the kind of excitement of Santa Claus--reading the Night Before Christmas, leaving cookies out, straining your ears to see if perhaps, you might just hear him creeping down the chimney. My brother feels differently from me here. There is the desire to not lie to his children. But, I don't really see that a lie has to be part of the creation or mystery of Santa. It is pure imagination. And I think there is something to be said about the natural mental process of beginning to wonder and question and actually figure it out, whenever that might happen.

So, what do you think? Santa or no Santa?

Low crawl

Despite the fact that our little fellow doesn't sleep nearly as much as Shawn and I seem to think he needs, he is apparently still growing quite well. He has been scooting along the ground with a great deal of purpose, and has managed to inch forward for a few days, but today he moved six feet in order to reach a toy. Pretty amazing.

And we finally hung our own wreath--one of the wreaths I've managed to make this winter. And boy, is it winter! All those kids (and educators) who were hoping for that snow day got their wish. I don't think there's a school in Vermont that is open today!

Snow Days

When my brother and I were kids, we went to a small school with only 50 kids (K-8). It was small enough that when we missed the bus, the driver made a special trip to come get us after her regular pick-ups. It was also small enough that every child got a phone call when there was a snow day (we didn't have to listen to the radio and all the other cancellations, just in case).

Tonight, a big storm is forecast. Even a foot or more in the northern mountains. Although I am no longer in the school system, there is an excitement of the mere possibility of NO SCHOOL tomorrow. There is something about the potential the night before... as you do your homework, you can't help but think "mmm, maybe we don't even have to be doing this!". You don't think about staying later in June, just the sheer joy and the gift of having this free day TOMORROW! I remember when the phone would ring around 6:30, and Andrew and I would jump up and down with glee, knowing who was on the other end before we even got to the phone.

The real beauty of a snow day is that it is a completely free day. You're not sick. You have all your homework done. There's lots and lots of fresh, beautiful snow to play in. You can completely live in the moment.

I'll never forget the intense excitement my brother and I shared when that phone rang. Listening to the radio announcememts has its own qualities, too, though. So, here's to all the school age kids as they hope for a snow day tomorrow--so willing to trade a day in December for that warm day in June.

Stories

My parents used to read aloud to my brother and me when we were little. Especially in the days that we didn't have electricity, but it is an activity that stands out to me in my memory as something we did a lot. Two of the series that we seemed to read again and again were The Chronicles of Narnia and The Little House on the Prairie, both of which I am so excited to read to our child(ren).

Shawn's been recently reading Deep Economy by Bill McKibben, a book that urges people to simplify and points out that money does not make us happier (once all our needs are met). He cited an example of giving a stuffed animal to a young Chinese girl and her incredible joy at his gift. This stuffed animal became a very dear and cherished possession. He said that he could have given it to his daughter, but given the number of toys she already had, it wouldn't make much a difference to her.

I thought back to the stories of Laura Ingalls from the Little House books. Christmas time was so special--they might receive an orange, perhaps, or the special doll that they would love for the rest of their childhood. It seems like in our generation of excess, we have ceased to appreciate anything on that scale. In the piles and piles of stuff that we buy, wrap, open and cast aside to open the next disposible trinket, we forget what is so special about this time of year--something that might be different for me as it is for you, but special nonetheless.

Thinking back to my own childhood, my happiest memories are from when we were camped out in the living room, fire roaring, lanterns lit, reading books from a simpler time. For future Christmases in our family, I hope we remember to always appreciate the things that really matter and to share that with Timothy and any future children.

Sneak peek

Almost done. Just imagine little black buttons for wheels. There are several things I've been working on, but I don't want to ruin any surprises by posting them.

Signs that winter has hit:

1. I went to have our snow tires put on the car today and the parking lot was absolutely packed. Everyone realized they had already waited a week too long.

2. You can hear Christmas music 24/7 on the radio.

3a. I'd like to include all the stores selling their holiday junk, but that stuff has been out since before Halloween. It just doesn't count.

3b. I'm about to start tutoring a student at BMA, but I couldn't reach him because they're all skiing.

4. Winter boots are now the shoe of choice for walking the dogs.

5. Bella has switched from eating grass to snow.

6. We're back into the rhythm or starting our fire every day.

I have to say, I am really excited about winter. Really, the excitement comes every year with that first snowfall, but it just seems like we've had a cozy start to the coming cold, dark months. Perhaps I realize how fast the last six months have gone as I watch Timothy change so quickly. At any rate, I welcome the rosy cheeks and frosty breath, the hot tea and holiday cookies, the toasty fire its warm glow.

Breakthrough

A couple weeks ago, in the midst of Timothy's sleep challenges, my friend Robyn shared some of her son's experiences with me and gave me some really helpful suggestions. Interestingly, I didn't think about one of her anecdotes the last couple of nights when our little boy was up for a few hours at a time. Neither happy nor unhappy, but awake and unable to settle down. This morning, however, after a rather short nap, my finger found a brand new little tooth where once there was only gum.

Our little guy is growing so darn fast. I find myself snuggling with him every time I put him down for a nap (the only time he really likes to nestle himself in my arms), thinking how very quickly he is changing and how soon he'll be too big for me to rock and snuggle. What a precious time this is.

Besides teeth, our Christmas cacti are also having their own poppings. This is one of my favorites.

Preparations

My friend Chris came up this weekend from Maine to go to the annual sock sale in Northfield. It is quite an experience if you've never been before--Cabot Hosiery Mills has thousands of socks that are slightly irregular and therefore not salable at full price that they save for a mid-November sale. We've gone together for most of the past seven years, and it kind of marks the beginning of the holiday season for me.

I've been working on some presents for a while now and I'm starting to get excited about the goodies I get to make (and eat!), the music we only hear this time of year, the decorations pulled out of boxes after a year's hibernation. As soon as I finish up my current project, I'm going to knit a stocking for Timothy. Not that he'll care this year, but that's okay! I know he won't understand all of our preparations, but I can't wait to see his face as he takes in the Christmas tree, not to mention the tractor ride to go get it, the colors and lights all over town, the boxes and wrapping paper. These simple joys are what make this season so special to me--I hope to remember that this year, and in all the coming years with our family.

Focus

We've been having some camera troubles in the past couple weeks--any time we tried to zoom, the shot would end up unrecognizably blurry. This has been very frustrating for me, a very unaccomplished photographer as it is. Because of the challenges with the camera, I took some liberties with the photo I used of the wreath... that was an old photo, and although we did have some snow the other day, we didn't have nearly as much as that picture represented.

Yesterday, Shawn was working in Greensboro with his dad and brought the camera to take some shots of the trees on the farm. He ended up figuring out the focus issues and managed to take this picture on his way home on Stannard Mountain Road. It had been really overcast and dark all the way, but as soon as he came upon this church, it was illuminated in this beautiful evening glow.

We were able to use the newly functional camera again this afternoon as we had another canine visitor. This coyote was prancing through the upper field today--absolutely gorgeous and so big. I would be very surprised if there wasn't some wolf in this fellow.

Anyway, it's great to have a working camera again.

Seasonal smells

Yesterday I started to make wreaths for my father-in-law. This was somewhat timely, as we had the first snow that stuck on the ground, at least for a little while. Cutting up the brush for the wreaths filled our basement with the smell of winter, and it made me think about the smells that make me embrace the arrival of each season.

Without a doubt, balsam is the smell of winter and Christmas for me. Mixed with that are the aromas of goodies baking, but those can be found throughout the year at our house! Springtime is announced by fresh dirt. Not glamorous, maybe, but oh so wonderful. It is such a rich smell and clearly affirms the break of winter. Summer's smell is that of raspberries--the height of summer and it never fails to bring me back to my childhood. Picking berries with my family. Walking up the road to our neighbors, flanked all the way by berry bushes. And I always know autumn is surely here by the smell of leaves on the ground--the reds and oranges from the tree blending together as they turn crisp and brown on the road. The arrival of each smell makes me welcome the changing season even more and I feel so lucky to live in an area where all four are so distinct.

So, although by the time March comes around, I'm so anxious for the longer days and warmer weather, I am always so excited by the first snows of the year. Here's to winter!

Follow-through

I try to avoid saying things like "I'll call you" or "Oh, you should come by sometime" without figuring out when it can happen. Otherwise it feels a little wishy-washy and both people know that it isn't likely to occur any time soon. I love it when people do follow through on what they say, especially little stuff that it really doesn't matter hugely if it happens or not.

Twice while watching my friend's yarn shop, this has happened. Once was last spring when I was pregnant with Timothy. An elderly lady came in and was telling me about a pattern for tube socks that she had--socks, she assured me, that would stay on a baby's foot. She told me she'd come in again and bring me the pattern. Sure enough, the next day, in comes the lady with a photocopy of the sock pattern.

A couple weeks ago, it came up in conversation with another lady that I am a French teacher. She was so excited and said that just that morning she had come upon a balloon with a note attached that was written in French. She came in the next day with the note and I translated it for her--it was the birthday balloon of a little 1 year old named Manuel. There was an email address, and Marcia was going to respond and told me she'd let me know what came of it. I just got a call from her telling me that she got an email back with a picture of this little boy and she offered to come over to the house just to show me!

It reaffirms my desire to always be true to my word, even with the littlest things. Just now, I feel like there is something I am forgetting--like getting a recipe or pattern to someone or writing one last thank you note. I hate that I sometimes let too much time go by and then I can't remember what exactly it was I meant to do. It is such a nice feeling on both sides when the follow-through actually happens.

Dilemma

In the last two weeks we've had seven separate encounters with coyotes. By encounters, I mean practically in our backyard. The most recent was our dog Bella chasing one from just past our garden through the field and a few days ago, there was one yipping in our front yard at 9:00 at night. When he stopped his bark, you could hear him walking through the grass, much closer than I am really comfortable with.

Yesterday, I chatted with our neighbor whose husband asked if she'd mind his shooting them if he met up with any while hunting. Two days ago, I spoke with the game warden, and his suggestion was also to shoot them if we felt disconcerted by their presence. I can't say I like this solution, but I must also admit that they've been a little too close for comfort. Because we've chosen to live where we do, is it unfair of us to consider killing these animals? They are predators and certainly have the power to hurt our pets (and the future animals we intend to keep). I hate to make that kind of decision. I'm crossing my fingers that they head back to the woods and keep their distance.

Regularity

I've been aching for some regularity in our schedule. Well, I'm okay with not having a routine yet--Timothy is only 5 months old and has been dealing with colds and incredible growth and all that. I know my expectations can't be too high.

Of course, you have to be careful what you wish for. My desire for regularity has been met somewhat--Timothy has chosen the lovely time of 5:00 to fill his diaper--and boy, can he fill it. So, he starts the day off early, and he also starts the day off still tired. This leads to some serious challenges with naptime, for once he reaches the point anywhere past 'tired', we need to figure out how to get him to sleep. Not easy. But, we're working on it. Days like yesterday make me bask in my success and the enjoyment of my happy little boy. Days like today make me want to put a pillow over my head and cry right along with him.

I know we'll get there. But it'll be easier to remember that once I can start getting some sleep of my own.

Night time noises

The picture of this tree was taken on October 16th. Five days later, there was not one leaf left on the tree. That's what a hard rain will do in mid-autumn.

It seems like we've had a lot of wildlife around the house recently. For the last couple weeks every evening/night we go outside for some reason, we startle off some deer. I awoke last week to more corn damage, so I'm assuming the raccoon was back to finish up what was left.

Last week we saw a lone coyote on a walk and then again in our field. I think this coyote is looking for a pack as we often hear a group of them howling late at night, but this one was out by himself last night--about thirty feet from our house, howling a mournful cry... and waking the whole house (and bringing on an equally mournful cry from our little Tim). He just kept going and going, too. Finally, Shawn went outside to see where he was and told him we heard him and that he could move on now. Lucky for us, he did. I wonder if he'll find some friends--hopefully he isn't trying to join Bella and Tucker!

Vacation

Shawn took last week off--it was good in so many ways. We got to have some really nice family time, Shawn got to see Timothy in a good mood (he hits melt down around 5:30 every evening) and had a chance to do some things he felt like doing (and others that needed to be done). I, in turn, had a break from being solely responsible for Timothy all day. This was a welcome break, but it also allowed me an experience I hadn't had before. After watching my friend's yarn shop for a few hours on Thursday and Friday, I was aching to get home and see my little guy. The sheer delight that crossed his face when he saw me was so special as were the arms stretched out to jump into my arms.

Maybe absence does make the heart fonder. In any case, it sure makes me more appreciative of what I have.

Traditions

We had a potluck on Saturday. It has become an annual autumn event, and it's fun to have this occasion to mark so many changes we and our family and friends have gone through over the past four years. Last year, there were 8 women pregnant. This year, there were 9 children, 6 of whom were under year old. I'm already looking forward to next year when all those little ones will be running around and having fun with each other.

I like traditions like this to look forward to and I think traditions and rituals are a really special part of our lives. I read an article once about the importance of routines and rituals, especially for kids. Daily, yearly, you name it. Like having a cup of tea on a rainy day. Or popcorn and a movie on Saturday night. Anyone have some to share?

Pleasures

My friend Robyn recently listed a series of 'guilty pleasures' that she enjoys and suggested others think of some of their own. I've been thinking about what I could list, but honestly, I can't say they make me feel terribly guilty! So, here's a (short) list:

1. A deep, hot bath.
2. Drinking a cup of tea, curled up in front of the fire with a pageturner of a book.
3. Warm chocolate chip cookies with a glass of cold milk.
4. Watching an episode of Lost.
5. An ice cold martini with olives (who knows when I'll get to enjoy this one again...)
6. Hot chocolate (totally with you on this one, Robyn) made with good bittersweet chocolate, whole milk, and a big dollop of whipped cream.

Runaway

Our dog Tucker likes to run. And run. So, he has been destined to a life on a leash, and he still gets to run (and chase Bella), but it is in a 32 foot diameter circle.

Yesterday, we went on a nice afternoon walk and when we got back home, Tucker decided to play the tackle Bella game, but she doesn't have the same restrictive 32 feet, and she knows just how far she has to be in order to escape Tucker's nip. He is a very strong dog, however, and he managed to tug his leash right out of my hands (remember, I have a 20 pound baby I'm carrying, plus a broken toe...). I figured he'd be tired enough to not keep running, but all of a sudden, his eyes flickered recognition of the fact that he was, in fact, free, and he took off like a bullet, trailing that extendable leash behind him.

Off I trudge after him, but it was such a beautiful afternoon and the colors were so vivid, Timothy and I stopped at the house first to get the camera. As we start out in the direction Tucker had fled, feet sopping wet in the grass, we took our time to take some lovely shots. As we got closer to where Tucker had landed, we started to hear a lonely bark, saying "help me, I'm stuck!" Really, that's what it sounded like. And indeed he was. Bella found him first which gave him some relief, because he is so old now, he couldn't hear me calling him, nor did he see us coming until we were right there.

Timothy and Bellla thought it was great fun. Actually, so did I!

Nature

A friend of mine shared a site with me that sends a short message every day--I really liked the one from yesterday said by Paramahansa Yogananda, a yogi from the early 1900s--"God is the mirror of silence in which all creation is reflected."

When I was little, I thought that when sun rays pierced throught the clouds that heaven was peeking through. I remember finally realizing that it was just the sun shining through the clouds, but now I see that it really is a kind of heaven, just as all the beauty around me is. I just have to remember to take a moment to appreciate it.

Handmade

I love making things. Things that are beautiful and useful at the same time. It takes far longer to make than to buy, but so much of the pleasure comes from the process of creation and not just from ownership or consumption. This little sweater contains approximately 32,000 stitches, but each and every one was knit with so much love for the little one who would one day wear it.

It seems like we have been in a frenzy of consumption in the past several years, and the desire to have as much as possible as quickly as possible outweighs the qualities that make something actually worth having. Hence the success of Walmart. I'd rather spend a summer growing my vegetables, or a month making a sweater, or a week picking local, in-season berries to freeze and jam, or a day mixing and kneading my bread for dinner than one stop at the local box store where you really don't save any money and you have no idea what you're getting.

So, here's to taking the time to enjoy the process.

Cycles

The last couple nights, Timothy has taken a little longer to get to sleep. He talks to himself and then all of a sudden, he starts to cry and then just as quickly finds his thumb and shuts his eyes. And then it starts all over again. It doesn't help to hold him, it doesn't help to stand next to his crib even. He just seems to have to go through this cycle a few times before finally being able to let himself slip into dreamland. It took less time tonight than last night, and hopefully will be even shorter tomorrow.

I find myself going through similar back and forth and around kinds of feelings and in the midst of the highs and lows, I recognize having been there before. And yet it is necessary to experience them anew before being able to move on to whatever comes next. I am just exiting a low which allows me some introspection. Hopefully it won't take me too many cycles to get there either.

Pumpkin Harvest

Your life is always working, whether you know it or not. Sometimes it works to bring you what you want, and sometimes it works to keep you from what you think you want.

Neale Donald Walsch

Celebratory pie

Wishing so much happiness to Andrew and Megan--a perfect autumn day to get married. Congratulations!

Changes

Timothy has been a tummy sleeper since he was about 2 1/2 months old. It allows him to sleep for longer than 15 minutes at a time during the day, and he manages to get to sleep without much trouble. However, now that he has started to roll over, he gets frustrated when he ends up on his back and can't get back over. The look on his face when he is looking up all of a sudden is priceless, though. It looks like it is a big shock, his arms flail out to the side, and he looks all around as though to say "Whoa, what was that???" Pretty cute.



We've also introduced food for the first time, and he seemed pretty taken with it. Whenever we've eaten for the last week or so, out goes his tongue and he is just fascinated by watching us. He reached for my water bottle yesterday, and even successfully drank a little water! Last night we introduced rice cereal, and he seemed quite pleased with himself. It is sure hard to believe how quickly he is changing and that we are already giving him food. It also amazes me that just as he is beginning to need more nutrients, nature works out to make him interested and want more. I find the whole process and his growth truly remarkable.

crooked.

That is the adjective I will now forever use to describe my left big toe.

Thought it would be great to get out of the house and go to a yoga class last night. Shawn was set to put Timothy to bed; I was excited to have a relaxing break in routine. Knowing how tired I was should have been enough to send a message to my brain that a handstand was not in the cards, but it seemed so doable. When I tipped over to the left and tumbled down, I thought I had just bumped my head, but looking down at my tingling foot, my big toe was bent at an awkward angle and I knew something wasn't right.

After some exchanging of cars, we got our hands on an automatic that I could drive to the hospital alone so we wouldn't have to drag Timothy from his happy slumber. Although they had told us by phone I needed to come in so they could straighten it out, the doctor explained once I was there that there was nothing he could do with a broken toe--it'll just heal like this.

I need to start thinking more positive thoughts--I think I am somehow doing this to myself.

nervous

We are having Timothy baptised on Sunday. Both Shawn and I grew up with religious traditions, but my early experience was vastly different from the direction we are going now. I feel good about our choice of churches--the people are so welcoming and loving, and the message delivered is in that same vein, a reminder to love our earth and her inhabitants rather than dictating what kind of person you're supposed to be. Last week we met with the woman who is going to perform the service, and her view is that this is an opportunity to welcome our little one into a bigger family. I really like that.

So, I'm not nervous about our decision. However, I am unquestionably anxious about the festivities surrounding this ritual, a ritual that is very different from what I grew up with. We're having the family over to our house afterwards, which means a divorced family on Shawn's side and my brother and his family and my mother for my side.

I'm nervous on many fronts. One, because I have no idea how the two sides of Shawn's family are going to interact, as all previous get-togethers have included more people as buffers. My family tends to be on the quiet side and I always have an irrational worry about whether or not they are enjoying themselves. I also worry about everyone else's expectations--are the food choices going to be the right ones? Should I do more? Less? Present are a number of people who can't imagine a meal without meat as well as others who are dedicated vegetarians--how to please everybody?

Shawn watches me with ten cookbooks open as I cross-reference and hope for some inspiration. When, in my fathomless insecurity, I ask him what he thinks, he says "Don't worry about it. Keep it simple." I wish I could take that to heart.

I need to trust that our family will be here because they love us and are here to help us celebrate this first rite of passage with our son. I need to let go of my control problem and realize that I can't help people get along, but they'll manage on their own just fine.

And I know EVERYONE will eat cake!

Four legged friends

We have two dogs, each of us bringing one to the relationship. Tucker is the yellow, long-haired one and Bella is the black lab. Each of them has some wonderful qualities--they are both so loving and sweet. Tucker, even though he is almost twelve, still chases Bella around and wants to play just like a puppy. He hates thunderstorms and is the ultimate protector of the house, even though some of his protective personality is a result of fear. Bella is so playful and has a tail that'll knock over anything in its way. She is so happy to see anyone who will pet her--there is not an aggressive bone in her body. And while both shed a ton of hair all year long, you'll never find a sticky spot on my kitchen floor!

Both of them have faults, too. Tucker is neurotic and his aggression can cause problems at times; he barks a lot--a real lot--and he likes to dig big holes in the yard. Bella licks ad nauseum and she can be rather willful. A habit we just can't seem to break is her love of rolling in yucky things. Manure or any other animal skat and dead things are her favorites. Yesterday, on a family walk, Bella threw herself to the ground and happily was rolling around in the dewy grass. It wasn't until she got up that we discovered that she had found a dead mole and the smell emanating from that dog the rest of the day was terrible.

She's had three baths since. And she still stinks.

The worst part is, she doesn't understand what she did wrong or why she has been relegated to the basement. When she's been outside, she looks in the window woefully, completely wounded in what seems to be neglect in her eyes. It makes me really sad to see her like that, and it makes me wonder about when Timothy is going to look at me, not understanding why he is feeling some way. Like next Monday when he's going to get a second round of immunizations and he's going to look in my eyes and wonder I can't protect him from this pain.

How many more times in his life am I going to feel that way? I think once is too many.

Camera shy

So our little Timothy rolled over for the first time yesterday! He was having some tummy-time on his play mat, and I was in the kitchen. Out of the corner of my eye, I saw him rolling, and then all of a sudden, over he went! I was so excited, I think my squeals might have startled him, but he quickly got a very satisfied look on his face.

In the course of the afternoon, he rolled over twice more--I emailed Shawn to tell him the news, and couldn't wait until he got home so he could see this little feat for himself. Shawn got home just as Timothy was getting up from a nap, so the timing was just perfect for a fresh, energetic baby.

I don't know if any other expectant mothers have experienced the phenomenon of having a very active baby until that moment when someone else puts their hand on your belly. When I was pregnant with Timothy, he would be doing somersaults inside until I'd tell Shawn. It was like he was caught doing something naughty and just stopped--it was almost a joke, except I felt so bad that he didn't get to share in that with me. Well, this trick didn't end with birth. Three times, he had rolled over with me. Then Shawn gets home and all rolling stops. Go figure.

I have to say, I'm psyched I got to see it. And so lucky to be able to be home with him so I can experience these firsts with him.

Too much

What do you get when you have a pie and pumpkin seeds in the oven, pumpkin from the garden cooking on the stove, and in the midst of cleaning the kitchen, peeling the rest of the pumpkin, and running downstairs for the jars you need to put the lovely orange puree, you think you have enough time to hang the laundry while it is still nice out?

A scorched pan and inedible pumpkin.

Maybe I am trying to squeeze too much in during nap time.

Communication

Timothy is becoming more and more interactive--it is so much fun to talk to him and watch him react to my silly faces and voices. He is really starting to play with the toys we put in front of him and respond to all kinds of stimuli.

There have been a couple things that really astound me about how he (and other babies, for that matter) has responded. One is that he can show empathy. I first realized this happens when visiting my brother and his family. My nephew Oskar was facing Timothy and when Tim started crying, Oskar started to join in! Last Friday at the hospital, Timothy and I met another mother and her two children. The little boy was so sick and unhappy and was crying. Tim, who had been so happy in my lap, turned his little lip out, his eyes started to water, and I headed off another sad baby by walking around the waiting room.

I talk to Timothy a ton--just telling him what we're doing or what we see and hear. I think I talk so much that it is just part of his background noise! Since one of Shawn's brothers is deaf, we've also been trying to use sign language with him which has been really interesting because he is actually paying attention to me. Now, my knowledge of signs is seriously limited, but I am trying to learn the words that are particularly useful for a babies life. You know, "Where is your moose?" (his favorite toy is a Lamaze moose that his Aunt Megan gave him). "Do you like your moose?" "Are you hungry?" "Are you tired?" Things like that. The whole time I'm signing to him, he stares at my hands and face, following along, with this quiet smile on his face. It's like he actually gets it and knows that this is another way to talk. Isn't that cool?

Babies are amazing.

Simple Pleasures

Having fresh bread in the house makes me feel so good. Secure somehow, like no matter what we have in the house, at least I can make myself a sandwich.
Other things that make me feel a similar contentedness and satisfaction:

• having fabric or yarn for a new project


• a mowed lawn


• a clean house


• a stocked refridgerator


• a weeded garden


• a fire going in our hearth with plenty more wood to keep us warm all winter

There is an element of being prepared in all of these things--prepared to start something new, whether culinary or craft project; prepared for guests with a clean house and plenty of food; prepared for the long Vermont winter that isn't far away.

They all require constant upkeep, too. But it feels good to have this constantly renewed sense of satisfaction!

Right and Wrong

So, I have many faults. One of my least favorite is that I hate to be wrong. Actually, worse even than that is that I feel like I am always right. I don't like this about myself, but it is incredibly hard to change.

Three days ago, I went to the walk-in clinic at our local hospital because my symptoms made me think (underscored by a call to my PCP) that I had strep throat. The quick test proved me wrong, but did I believe the test? Not I. The following day, when I felt even worse, I thought myself vindicated and was sure that the 48 hour test would prove me right.

It didn't.

Maybe I'll learn something from this. I hope it sticks.

Outdoor Friends

We live in the country. Given our rural location, we also have a number of non-human visitors which provides us great pleasure if we happen to catch sight of them. A few days ago, I saw a beautiful doe just as she was crossing the creek over our old stone bridge. The picture of the two moose was captured just in time after our dog Bella barked and scared them off. We have lots of turkey and other birds, including a red-tailed hawk who visits often.

We recently have discovered another guest that is not as welcome. As you can also see, we managed to put in a garden this year and we've been really pleased with the first year outcome, particularly with the spotty care I've put into it during Timothy's sporadic nap times. I was really excited with the corn and have been dreaming of freezing a bunch to eat during the coming year. I knew there was the possibility of losing some to animals, but figured we'd still have some to eat ourselves. Last week, we knew they were closer to being pickable, but Timothy came down with something and we were rather distracted from the garden. The racoons took this to their great advantage, however, and last Friday morning, we awoke to a ravaged garden--stalks on the ground, dozens of ears of corn on the ground and half eaten.

I was so disappointed, and we vowed to keep an eye on the few remaining ears to pick them before the little theives could get any more. That is until I got whatever our son had. This happened to be our saving grace, however! A couple nights ago, as I lay miserably in bed unable to sleep, I heard a noise outside and ran to the window to investigate. Sure enough, a coon was on our back deck, trying to nose his way into our compost bucket. When he proved unsuccessful, off he scurried to the garden. I didn't want to lose any more corn, so I woke up Shawn and out he went with a broom and ran screaming at that fat racoon who guiltily fled the scene.

All told, we didn't end up with much corn. The six ears Shawn picked after scaring off our furry friend gave up about a cup and a half of kernals. But there was so much satisfaction watching it grow and thinking about eating something we had planted and tended. It has been so nice to pull up a few carrots or pick some peas for supper. To be able to make a salad with only vegetables that we grew. To pickle a bunch of beans and cucumbers to last throughout the year. And it really didn't take that much effort to do. I hope in the coming years we'll be better attuned to when veggies are ready to harvest as well as know what will be happiest in our soil so that we can rely less and less on food imported from half-way across the world. It just feels good.

Changes

This is the first September in my life that I have not been gearing up for the return of school in one form another. For the last seven years I have identified myself as a French teacher, but always knew that once children entered my life I would put my career on hold and devote myself to raising them.

While I don't regret this decision for a second, the transition has been harder than I thought it would be. I have identified myself as an educator for all of my adult life and a large part of who I am as a productive member of society. In my heart, I fully believe that being a parent is of far greater significance and importance than what I was doing previously and a great deal of the ills in our society are the fault of parents who fail to take that job seriously. And yet, I have not been able to proudly say that I am a stay-at-home mom without adding all of the additional things I am filling my life with. Many people I encounter seem to think that staying at home means taking things easy. While I (and the other people that matter) know that is not true, it strikes me that my security in my identity hinges on what other people think.

I think part of this insecurity stems from the fact that staying at home with children is a topic everyone has an opinion about--often very strong opinions--and they have no qualms about vociferiously voicing it. This might be because it is a choice that forces you to give something up, whether a career or the ability to be there for your child full time. When someone chooses differently than someone else, it makes you revisit what led you to your choice to begin with. Sometimes the choice isn't yours to make, although more often than not, I believe living simply can make it more possible. In the big scheme of things, it is not things which will make us happy.

So, the next time that someone asks me what I do, I will proudly say that I am a full-time mother and know that it is the best decision I have ever made.