I get stuck throughout the day.  In bed.  On a chair.  She will be sitting on my knees and she’ll start to smile and I will start kissing her cheeks and she will chuckle and I will chuckle and she’ll look at me and I will look at her and then I will not want to be anywhere else.  I will just want to be there.  Right there.  For the whole afternoon.  Hi, Helen.  Hi, Helen.

Today is Martin Luther King Jr. day.  It’s a day I am glad to celebrate, though I am not sure how the man himself would feel about the whole thing.  And I like how Reed calls hot chocolate “chocolate-chocolate.”  And he always wants more.  ”More.  Please.  More chocolate-chocolate.  Mama.”  And I like winter cooking, with its pots on the stove all day long.  And I like days with the people I love.

“Good job, mom!”

“Delicious!”

“So good!”

It’s praise from a two-year-old, but I nearly burst a button off my coat every time.  You give your kid something and they think it is amazing and they think you are amazing.  It rocks.  I get it now.  This is why parents go a little overboard with the gift giving.  I’m just glad that for now Reed saves his enthusiasm for a good meal.  I hope it’s like that always and forever amen.

Good night.

Today we made a point to take a morning walk.  We didn’t have to wear mittens.  It was Helen sleeping in the sun and fresh air and myself reading on a bench and Reed stomping along the river.  We could linger.  It reminded me of warmer days when we live outdoors.  We water the garden, wrap up some bread, some cheese, and venture forth for as long as we please.

((I miss taking long walks when it is frigid.  I miss taking long walks whenever I please.  But I delight in the company.)

the floor is full of toys and there are dishes to wash (floors to wash, clothes to wash…), but the sun is falling on my chair.  That warm, winter sun.  And there is tea and the quiet of two children sleeping.  I am going to sit in that sun and sit in it well.

And also,

This year.

This new year.  I am going to write here more.  Not better, not longer, just more often.  Read the new translation of The Iliad and The Autobiography of Mark Twain.  Unsubscribe.  Less noise.  More listening.  More writing.  More making.  More talking to strangers.

Happy New Year, friends!

Lindsey

…I’ll think of it someday.

Happy birthday, Helen.  You have been breathing this good air a quarter of a year.  I have loved being with you.

1. Bright girl.

2.  Wild boy.

3.  Wonderful man.

4. Good autumn.

5. Grace for self.

6. Prosperity of kindness.

7. Enough.

8. Family to miss.

9. Family to enjoy.

10. Words to read.

11. Wholesomeness.

12. Able hands.

13. Strong legs.

14. The coming winter.

15. Opportunity.

16. A bit of rest.

17. A bit of music.

I can’t quite place what, but something about this year has been very good in the world.  I really believe that.

Happy Thanksgiving.  Eat well.  Hug the people you love.  Celebrate gratitude.

- There are at least a few hours of at least one day a week when taking care of two young ones does not seem easy at all.  And it is 11:30 in the morning, and I am still not dressed, Reed is half-naked, my hair is half-brushed.  I feel angry at everyone and no one for this, and if Adam is around, I usually take it out on him.  And Reed, no matter how cute and jolly, irritates me and I wish that I could just do one thing at a time for once.  And I wish the house was quiet.

- At least five full days a week, I can’t believe my luck getting to spend so much of my life with people I like so well as my kids.  I love coaching Reed as he flips his fried egg in the morning or stirs the pancake batter.  I love teasing him and being teased by him.  I love being watched by Helen’s steady eyes.

- Life with two little ones goes better when you let go of your own agenda for a little while.

- I believe that the Golden Rule applies to political rhetoric.  This may make me a simpleton.  I don’t care.

1.  It continues to be a gorgeous fall.  So many sunny days.  So many light jackets worn out of desire rather than necessity.  The heat from the furnace warms us on these chilly mornings, and in the afternoon, occasionally, we can even open a window.

2.  I spent this particular day with two healthy kids that are jolly as hell.  And came home from the orchard to a man home early from work wearing his black shirt and autumn beard.  I love his black shirt and autumn beard.

3.  The orchard.  And a big bagful of what I think are the best apples in the world.

4.  And the big sugar pumpkin bought with the apples.  It will be pie.

5.  And a fresh tin of coffee just in from the roasterie and the little white cup of espresso, on the house, when it has been so long since I have had espresso.

6.  There is even beer in the fridge.  Apple beer.

7.  And lots of eggs.

8.  It is a perfect day for an evening walk.

9.   The maples are yellow, yellow, yellow.

Some days the abundance is overwhelming.  And any discontent seems small.  Silly, even.

I like watching Reed pull an apple from the bag and taking big bites of that beautiful round apple with his beautiful round face.  I like seeing my girl’s shining face in the sun.

I never really got into Halloween.  It seemed like a lot of work, really, the pumpkins, the costumes.  I didn’t get it.  I get it now.

Next year, there will be pumpkin carving.  And pumpkin pancakes.

Happy Halloween, everyone!

Our second child is doted upon.  By all of us.  Reed dots her forehead with dozens of kisses at once.  Her father and I smile and stare.  Even the cat sleeps at her feet.  This is our life together.  With some crying at check-out lines thrown in for good measure.

Our girl is nearly two months old.  I thought that she would remind me of raspberries, but she reminds me of cantaloupe, instead.