I had grand plans of taking a photo of the same spot every hour to document the snowfall. I was going to make a time-lapse video or something! But the snow mostly fell overnight. So I have yesterday:

Yesterday, around noon

And today:

About 24 hours later

Also a cat picture I took, like, two weeks ago.

Sleeping Kitty

Egg carton goggles

(We made these on Thursday from a paper egg carton. All our goggles started to rip a bit in the center, so I reinforced them with a brad fastener. If you’re in need of a pair yourself, I think a foam egg carton might make sturdier goggles.)

I love my children. I loved them at first sight of those two little pink lines. And when they were born, I didn’t think I could possibly love them more. But I do. My love for them grows right along with them. The bigger they get, the more history we have, the deeper our relationship becomes. But all the while, physically, they’re moving away. They’ve gone from my womb to my breast, from my arms to my side, and as time moves on, from my home out into the world. I’ve known this is how it goes from the start, but I’ve never understood it like I do now, as Jack – my last baby – slips off my lap to run off and away. So I hold on.

“Oh! Oh, no! Where are you going?”

He gently pulls away and his arm slips slowly from my grasp.

“Jack! Jack!! Don’t go!” I plead.

He steps away and tosses a coy, over-the-shoulder glance my way.

“NO!”

He smiles slyly.

“Don’t go!”

And he pads away.

I am dejected, despondent, and forlorn.

He peeks from around the corner and is delighted.

“Oh, he’s gone!” I sob.

Suddenly, he bursts back into the room and runs at me with arms open. “Mama!” he sings.

I am jubilant! I scoop him up and hug him tight. “You’re back! Oh, you’re back! I’m so happy you’re back!”

He hugs me back. Then he giggles and begins to pull away and we do it all again. And again. Sometimes again and again. It’s good for at least three extra hugs.

Jack is my last baby. I’m taking all I can get.

Jack isn’t feeling well. He’s got a sore throat and a cough.

Jack has a sore throat and cough

At first glance, this picture doesn’t appear to demonstrate that. However, you should consider that this was happening next to him.

Painting her feet

Painting her hands

Painting "creeping steps"

Jump!

Jump painting!

And he didn’t want to participate.

But watching this kid –

Painted feet

– sure made him feel better.

Apple Peanut Butter Smile

Roar!

Yes.


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