My mom was over last night so Tom and I could meet some friends for dinner for the first time in, you know, ages.
In the morning, Neko proudly announced to us that Santa had come last night. And sure enough, there were presents under the tree. She had meticulously wrapped these packages for us, filled with toys from her bedroom.
These are the moments I really love having kids.
With just over a week until Christmas, it’s beginning to get ridiculous that we don’t have a tree. I given up all hopes of capturing the memories of last year, and just want something we can hang lights on in our living room. So today, with less than an hour of daylight, we decided to drive to the tree farm, pick one from the pre-cut selection, and call it a day.
Here’s how it all unfolded:
5:30pm Load everyone into car to drive 30 minutes to tree farm.
6:00pm After perusing our selection, decide to get the tree that can be planted in ground after Christmas. After all, there aren’t too many days until Christmas, right? Tree farm worker mumbles something about “250 pounds” which seems to go in one ear and out the other.
6:01pm We realize the tree won’t fit into mini van, and will dent the top of the car (something about 250 pounds). We drive home to get the Volvo.
6:40pm Get home. Tom goes back to tree farm in Volvo.
7:15pm Tom watches guy load tree into Volvo with mini forklift.
7:45pm Tom arrives home and realizes we don’t have a container large enough to hold ball of tree.
8:00pm After several brief attempts to lift tree 250 pound tree, we realize the tree looks best outside the house near the porch.
8:01pm We officially have our first outdoor Christmas tree.
On this day of thanks, I keep encountering sad news. I keep vowing the day is going to turn around, and then I hear something even more sobering. So this year I suppose I’m a little extra thankful. Especially for those who share my home. It’s all very sentimental and schmaltzy, but I want it written down somewhere, so bear with me.
Ellery, sweet Ellery. Even as your teeth break through and you’re stumbling through those first few adventures of mobility, you always have a smile on your face and a sunny disposition. You climb on board each day and sail along without a complaint or worry. As long as we scoop you up and welcome you in, you’re blissful and content.
Shep, my little rock star. You’ve been carefully studying the moves of the characters on Guitar Hero, because from behind, I could mistake you for a member of an indie band. And somewhere in between all the craziness, you always remember to say “please” and “thank you.” I can’t take credit for that, but it warms my heart. But nowhere near as much as my double kisses you give each night. First one cheek, then the other, followed by a peel of giggles. I know this routine will go on hiatus in your teens, but I plan to reclaim it in your twenties when I visit you on tour.
My Neko. It used to be I couldn’t get you in regular clothes because you were always naked. Now I can’t get you in regular clothes because you’re always in costume. Today you celebrated Thanksgiving in full turtle gear (nearly having a coronary when you spilled cranberries on your shell), and tonight I looked up to see you drawing in PJs, a Dora backpack and bug antennae. How can I not admire your spirit and fierce independence, even if some days it brings me to my knees?
And Tom. There’s no way I could do all this without him. Not just because he gives the kids baths and makes Sticky Mouse pancakes and maple scones. Not just because he takes time out of his morning to make sure I have coffee and the dishwasher is unloaded. He humors my organizing neuroses and patiently waits while I do “just one more thing.” But mostly, because he is just so there in our lives. So very present and completely engaged.
For this, and our many other family and friends, I am thankful.
Today was Halloween. This has become a huge event in this household, since Neko is finally old enough to understand it involves a costume and a candy pay-out. But mostly it’s about the costume. I’m sorry, that should be costumes, plural. Last week she was set on being a ballerina. Then it was a ballerina with dinosaur hands and feet. Then she became a pink cat (much like a ballerina with ears, tail, and whiskers), and then a black cat. She had settled on the black cat, but then made a last minute addition to become a black cat in a ballerina outfit with one ballet shoe and one regular shoe. There was going to be a magic wand, too, but she and Shep started arguing over it and, like magic wands sometimes do, it magically disappeared.
Shep was a rock star, since he carries around a guitar half of the time at home. Go figure, the one time he refuses to carry a guitar? Halloween. His ABCD shirt seemed to be enough for a costume, but he petered out around two houses in due to a bad diaper rash. Must remember to add that to the list of stories to tell at his wedding.
Ellery was a bear. This is a fun comparison of Shep in the same costume.
Special thanks to Kim, John, and Mary who hosted us for a real neighborhood trick-or-treat, since we don’t have sidewalks and trick-or-treating could only be done in our neighborhood by car or horse.
I have to say up front that all these pictures were taken by Chris, since I didn’t take a single photo this year. I never even picked up the camera. Next year I’m setting aside a block of twenty minutes to just run around and take photos. I swear.
We had, quite possibly, the most perfect fall weather. The leaves have just started to turn, and with just enough rain in the last week, the grass is green again.
This year, instead of making shirts ahead of time, we had everyone print their own. From little kids to senior citizens, nearly everyone made their way out to shop, rolled up their sleeves and took a turn on the press. I love hearing Neko’s compadres point proudly at their shirt and exclaim, “I did it!”
Of course, the food was fabulous. Kate D., I wish I thought the bacon-wrapped dates would have survived FedEx. I thought of you as people kept gushing over them.
Tom cut a long path through the tall grass for the kids. He sent them on an “adventure hike” through the path with buckets of goodies along the way. The kids loved it, and went running headlong from start to finish.
Even though it’s a boatload of work to prepare for, I love that we do this each year. I look around and see our house filled with such good people and I can’t imagine any place I’d rather be.
Today I found a praying mantis. Knowing how my junior entymologist adores anything a bit out of the ordinary, I popped it in a container and brought it inside.
Big hit. But now we’re not just satisfied with looking at the bug, we want to know all about it. Like what does it eat? And can we feed it?
With a little research (thank you internet) we discovered that they eat small bugs, among other things. Having had our doors open off and on this week, we’ve got an ample supply of flies running around, so in no time, Tom was able to catch a fly.
Now, I have to say, I’m really not a bug person. They kind of give me the heebie jeebies, and the whole crawling sensation, well, ick. But ever since Neko has become interested in bugs, I’m weakening my stance a bit. This whole praying mantis thing was, well, really quite intriguing.
First of all, they are FAST! They look like this delicate bug, but all of a sudden it zips around and makes a move for a buzzing fly. And the articulation of its head is amazing. It could be facing the other way, and then all of a sudden cranes its neck all the way around to look you dead in the eye. A little creepy, but fascinating, too. After a few attempts it caught the fly, and, well, we got to witness the food chain first-hand. I thought this might disturb Neko, but instead she was just really interested.
It was getting dark when we finally let it go. Neko’s getting much better about letting these little creatures go. But we always have to take a picture so she can remember them.
Also included, Neko’s illustration of our visitor.
Tom and Chris took the kids this morning while I got some time back in exchange for losing part of my weekend. Tom spent time this weeked wearing the business hat, which is the funny thing about working for yourself—your schedule becomes a bit blurry and work doesn’t always happen in the traditional hours. Kudos to Tom, though, because he always tries to even out the score and give me some time back.
They went to one of our favorite parks, and the kids were beyond excited that Chris came along. As an extra bonus, he took all the great photos you see above.
I really do love having Chris around. I probably don’t say it anywhere near enough or in the right sort of wordy, eloquent way which he’ll mispronounce and then I’ll correct and then he’ll sigh and then we’ll obsessively tidy while we discuss what romantic comedies are coming out soon.
