red

As promised J, here's the red hair.

christmassing

We've all been christmassing our little hearts out around here. Much like my no-homemade halloween costume vow, I also broke my no-homemade christmas presents vow. I just can't help myself. I won't list them all here (who knows who's lurking around this blog), but suffice to say that our diningroom table has been littered for days with felt, red and green amy butler fabric, jars of applesauce and sparkly ribbons. (Not to mention the 80-odd holiday cards we ordered late and have been manically addressing late at night. Don't be surprised if yours gets to you after the holiday!) Liam has been making lovely things out of felt and popsicle sticks and Milo made me battle holiday traffic at Gateway yesterday so he could get more beads for his project.

Turns out, I love this part of christmas. It wouldn't be christmas without late night last minute sewing, and gifts wrapped at the eleventh hour on christmas eve. I admire all y'all who had your cards sent and tree trimmed on the day after Thanksgiving. I do. But there's something about the frizzled last-minuteness of things that's half the fun around here.

Me and the other moms of MICE, getting our holiday spirit on.

Liam and Milo getting ready to decorate Nonny's tree.

Liam fortifying himself with Cafe Sienna pancakes.
Joel and Lucy spend lots of quality time together while I sew and sew.

Lucy and Ruby, Nonny's dog.

(thanks for the pictures Haley!)

snow days

In Eugene, an inch of snow usually means no school. Four inches is a blizzard and people are practically snowed in!

I think the best part about snow days is sledding. I also think it's more fun for me because I live on a big hill. For some kids it is hard because they don't live on a hill. I think I'm lucky to live on a hill, but only when it snows. --Liam

tree season

Find five hats, four pairs of gloves, and four scarves. Put on your layers and your mud boots. Stuff the baby into a down Patagucci suit. Pack Z-Bars and pretzels and spare socks. Load three boys and one carseat into the back of a VW van with a trailer hitched to the back. Meet your friends, the MICE*, at the christmas tree farm in Pleasant Hill.

*MICE: Monthly Improvement Collective of Eugene. 10 adults, 5.5 kids, 3 years to date of monthly home improvement adventures.

(The farm will be familiar to you because you have chaperoned the annual fall field trip to the pumpkin patch there for four years and counting.) Strap the baby to yourself and be grateful for the extra warmth. Get a hot drink. Put scotch in it from Dave's flask. Sit on wet strawbales in the tractor next to your friends and their kids and feel picturesque.

Argue about whether it's worth the extra money to get a noble fir. Recall your childhood Charlie Brown trees and decide it is. Trudge through the mud looking for your perfect tree. Find it. Stand next to it and stake it as yours. Hand your nine year old a saw and watch as he crawls under the tree to saw it down in the rain.

Wait until he gets muddy and frustrated, then your husband will finish the job while your son stomps off pouting because it's hard to cut down a tree.

Take a family photo while your son is still pouting.

Admire your friend Rebecca for cutting down her own tree. Say, if I just didn't have this baby strapped to me, I could do that too. Privately acknowledge that you wouldn't, regardless of the baby.

Get back on the tractor and sing christmas carols ridiculously led by your husband. Miss the Blaines. Feel grateful for good friends, sweet children, and scotch.

Later, decorate your tree with your kids and think, this is what memories are made of.

(Liam, remember when we strapped the baby bjorn to you and made you walk around the house with Lucy the night we decorated the tree?)

lazy saturday morning

the girl loves her thumb

The thumb is awesome. It's always there (unless your shirt sleeve is in the way). It doesn't fall on the floor (get back to me when we start crawling though). It doesn't leave a circular imprint on your face when you spit it out. It's soft and warm and cute. It's free and doesn't contain BPAs or other leaching chemicals. We think she prefers the right thumb, but she's an ambidextrous sucker and can switch if necessary. Her auntie Roh, a veteran thumb sucker of over 5 years, is very proud.

Here's Lucy, lounging in her easy chair.


Waking up in the parents' bed.

And dozing, late night in the lounger. (I came home from my knitting group the other night to this scene. Without a wide angle lens I couldn't capture Joel sitting a few feet away watching SNL shorts on the computer.)

coffee and kleenex

I knew it would all catch up to us eventually. The adjustment back to two full time jobs with three kids. The back-to-back coast-to-coast airplane trips. The wakeful baby hitting what one mom described as the "4-month sleep regression." The triple play of my grandfather's death, Jess's diagnosis, and the anniversary of my mom's death five years ago yesterday. Someone contagious with the chicken pox for a month straight. And now, a cold for me. Our kitchen counter looks like a hybrid between the supplements corner of Sundance and an aisle at Rite Aid.
Coffee and a box of kleenex are getting me through the day. Applesauce and computer games are getting Milo through

my sweet girl

I came home from working in Salem today and Lucy was so happy to see me. She was probably mostly happy because she knows I have the goods, but she smiled and kicked and did this lovely thing with her hands where she clasps them under her chin, like this:

Throughout all of the craziness and overwhelm of the past two weeks, all I have to do is let my sweet girl lay her head on my shoulder and suck on her thumb, and I instantly feel calm. She's not sleeping great (anymore), and she sometimes makes me carry her around endlessly, but I don't care. She brings me joy and reminds me that life IS beautiful. Even through the hard stuff.