And So November Begins

Saturday, October 29th was just one of those great days. Overcast but not over programmed, cold but not freezing, full but not stuffed. Somehow, the afternoon found my whole family napping so I found refuge in a terrific YA book my good friend, Heather, recommended to me. When the family awoke, we proceeded as planned: carving pumpkins into Jack-o-lanterns, eating a great crockpot dinner, donning PJs to settle in for a family movie night. When your kids are just 5 and 2, these sort of activities come as rare and special treats. We watched Wall-E, a perfect choice for a kindergartner who’s into robot talk and a preschooler into spaceships.

Outside, the clouds emptied their rain, the rain turned to snow and the temperature dropped to freezing. Unknowingly, while we sat warm and cozy inside, the earliest snow storm in North East history raged outside. If you’ve never experienced thunder snow, take my word, it’s surreal.

The poor trees, still heavy with leaves, carried the extra burden of thick, wet snow. Intermittently, we

Operation Butterscotch Freedom

[Continued from yesterday’s post…]

Yet again, I was cleaning the 21st Century Cage. As usual, I placed Butterscotch in his ball and left him to explore the floor. Thirty minutes later, I realized it had been a while since I heard the familiar rolling sound of ball against hardwood. Assuming  yet again he had lodged himself between door and wall somewhere, I didn’t panic. I placed the clean cage back on the shelf and though it was merely mid-morning for Butterscotch, I was ready for bed.

A quick glance across the room revealed why I hadn’t heard Butterscotch rolling across the floor lately for there sat his overturned hamster ball, the lid several inches away. It had finally happened: Operation Butterscotch Freedom.

Far Away

This past Sunday, DH drove our five-year old up to her grandmother’s house in Maine to spend the week. It’s not the first time she’s been away from us—she did the same thing last year too and various overnights here and there since she was two—but for some reason, this year, I’m the one feeling homesick

Perhaps it’s the sheer magnitude of transitioning my first-born into kindergarten this fall, the sudden realization that these slow-going, past-five-years actually have been careening by at mach-5 all along, or perhaps it’s because she so easily separated from me on Sunday. But whatever the reason, her absence has left a palpable void in our home and I miss her terribly!

And So, Summer Begins

Well it’s official, summer’s here. Tuesday was this fabulous, warm, low humidity great start and we spent nearly the whole day at the local pond beach interrupted only for a brief period (during the height of severe sun-exposure) for a mid-day nap.

Having a five-year old with boundless energy and a two-year old that still naps in his bed everyday can be tricky. But this year I was going for balance and I think I may have struck it: that perfect balance between scheduled activities, breaks for mom and completely unplanned time, free to go off on whims and follies to our hearts’ desires

(gracious, it’s only taken five years to get it right)!

The End of Preschool, for Now

Today was my daughter’s last day of preschool. It was wholly unceremonious and without emotion. In part because the actual “end of year” ceremony happened on Tuesday but because of the ridiculous amount of snow we got up here this winter, today was an optional make-up day filled with bubbles and informal structure.

I thought I’d have a harder time with this end-of-an-era. With my oldest finally passing through her early formative years and on to the school-aged stage. But the truth is, we’re ready!

I’ve found these past five years of early motherhood pretty lonely. As a hopeless extrovert, weekly playgroups, 45-minute music classes, open gyms, monthly parenting lectures and cruising local playgrounds never provided the fixes I sought.

A Mother’s Earth Day Gift

Five years ago, on April 22, 2006, it was pouring rain. Not just a soaking, not just a flash thunderstorm but an all out, biblical deluge. Of course, I wasn’t really paying attention; I was too busy willing my lower body to function under the numbing influence of an epidural. As nature would have it, our daughter was born and the rain kept falling.

Giving birth on Earth Day is not like having a New Year’s baby or a Valentine’s Day baby or even a baby on the 4th of July. In fact, a good many people don’t even know that it’s Earth Day. But for me, having a baby on April 22nd has given me a deeper sense of Earth Day, a living reason to celebrate it in a new way.