Dancing in the Snow

We had reservations at a cute little bistro downtown by the railroad tracks. Then the snow started. It was falling hard, so we wavered and then decided to go anyway. We sat and dined and drank a bottle of wine and ate chocolate cake. We watched the windows fog and the snow fall. We watched it fall in front of the hundred year old hardware store and the farmers market sign. We laughed and we took silly pictures in the snow. We played and kissed and held hands. It was so quiet and peaceful. A step back in time. No fights or life talk, no decision making. We were simply lovers and friends for this night. Snow fell softly over us. It was a beautiful night.

A Tisket, A Tasket...

a red and pink basket. i wrote a letter to my love and on the way i dropped it.

All You Need Is Love

We are getting Valentines ready around here. Handmade valentines are the best. They just feel good in your hand. Our table is covered in stickers and glue and heart shaped doilies. Scalloped cut edges and child written names. I love it.

Free Bird

It's a blustery day. A "winds-day". (If you love Winnie the Pooh, you got that.) The wind is gusting at about 35 mph. Our funky little cottage is shifting and sighing. It's strong wind that makes you pause and listen. Analiese and I were standing at the back door watching the trees bend when she said,

"I love the wind. I love the sound. The shush. I want to be married in wind like this with petals and leaves twirling all around."

Then she ran outside, threw her hands up in the air, and let the wind flow through her. She twirled around and laughed and fell down. And leaves actually swirled around her as she stood up again. She stood and felt the wind.

I love this child of mine because she feels things. She feels the wind and rain, the flowers and the leaves. When she cries, she wails. When she laughs, she laughs loud. No emotion is felt softly. When I carried her they told us her heart was fragile. When she was born they told us she was healed. But, though her physical heart was fine, she was born with a fragile spirit heart. All things are felt with an intense freedom that few people have. She is a free spirit. Free to dance in the wind with abandon. I hope she never loses this freedom. Though I fear the vanity and self consciousness of the teen years will dampen it, I pray that she escapes those awkward days with her spirit intact. That at 16, 25, 40, and 80 she will throw her hands in the air and twirl in the wind. I hope she does get married in wind like this. She would be a beautiful clothed in white with petals and leaves twirling all around.

A House Divided...

We're split. Me, Chris and Sicily yelling "Go Colts"! Steven and Analiese yelling "Go Saints"! But notice who's on top. (wink*)

At least we get to fight it out with a yummy bowl of chili! Mmmm. I don't even watch football. But I can get into a night meant to be spent hanging out with friends, eating good bad for you food, and some friendly competition. Happy Superbowl Sunday everybody!

Oh my sweet, sweet girl...

I take the older two kids to school every morning. Around here we start school very early. 7:20am to be exact. Which means I have to leave here at 6:50am to get them there on time. Which means I wake them at 6:20am. That's very early for my sleepy heads. Too early for the little one. She usually sleeps through all of the bumps and moans. The groggy yawns and the sleepy pleas for a few more minutes. The cereal bowls thrown a little too carelessly into the sink. Backpacks being stuffed, lunches made, and shoes searched for. She sleeps through all of this early morning noise. Steven leaves as soon as I return and for some reason the door closing behind him is her alarm clock. Maybe it's because he leaves in a bundled mess of hurry. Jacket, wallet, cell phone, lunch, keys, name badge, tie all held precariously in one hand. Door slammed with his free hand. (It's ok. We aren't particularly good at mornings around here.) So she gets up, hair matted to face, hand clutching bunny, ready for snuggling. We climb back into my bed for a snuggle in front of an episode of Curious George. That's how it usually goes.

This morning was different. When I walked back in the door, I wasn't greeted by her sleepy eyes. I found her crying on the stairs. Steven was sick today. So he wasn't getting ready for work like normal. He was buried beneath a pile of blankets and pillows in our bed. Apparently, he was buried so well that she didn't think he was there. She thought that we had all left her. That she was home alone. She woke up to complete abandonment. That would make anyone cry. As I walked in the front door, she jumped from the stairs into my arms and cried a little harder. So I scooped her up and we went back to my bed. The trauma of it all must have exhausted her because she went back to sleep. And so did I.

Oh my sweet, sweet girl. We love you so. My mornings wouldn't be nearly as warm without you.

The Elusive Male

You may notice that there aren't a lot of posts about the boy around here. It's not for lack of trying. I have a lot of blurry pictures where he is fleeing as soon as he sees the camera. He's at that age where stopping for a picture isn't cool. If my husband is any indication, he won't grow out of that for the next 15 years.

He has a bit of his mama's soul. We share a melancholy and a need for solitude. He's quiet and yet still goofy in that nine year old boy way. He's an observer (unless he's correcting his sisters). I love all of these things about him, but it doesn't give me a lot of blog fodder, unlike the girls who are complete camera hams and say anything that comes to mind.

There are two things though that brighten his eyes and bring out his lively side. One is the first cold day of the year. Like me, he lives to wear sweat shirts. The other is snow. He comes alive in the snow. His quiet sometimes makes him seem older than his years. Snow brings out the little boy in him. Snow makes him seem like he's only nine, which he is, but sometimes it feels more like nine is the equivalent of twenty. He was outside yesterday for six straight hours. I took his lunch out to him. He built a whole fort for his army men who were attacked by the abominable snow man but saved themselves with their pet dinosaurs. It was awesome.

He's back outside today. He loves the snow. He doesn't seem to feel the cold. Waking up to snow is more exciting to him than Christmas morning. He actually pauses for the camera! I get more pictures of him during snow days than any other time of the year. He fades back to the quiet as the snow melts. I like quiet, but it's fun to see this brighter side of Chris for a few days. I think we'll eventually have to take him skiing. I think he'll love it. For now our pitiful little covering is enough to give him a nice snow fix. I'm sure he'll be out there until the last flake melts.