Life on the Farm

In honor of pretending that we actually have an Autumn season in the beginning of October, all five of us made our way to Oma's Pumpkin Patch. We learned about cow births (one every day!), hung out with itty bitty baby goats, waved to inanimate objects, took awful pictures in those head board things, and realized that this is where people come to take pictures of their 3 month old alien babes nestled in a bundle of hay. Saw a lot of that, and I guess we did the same thing last year. Sometimes it's hard to remember little Bear as a little blob, especially with him being able to throw away my trash for me (if I ask nicely) and pointing to everything and knowing its name. Shower is shower, screens are shows, and juice is juice. Are we already almost approaching his 20th month of life? You're closer to 2 than 1, Mr. Bear, so I guess we'll stop counting your life by the months and start checking off the years. My new goal is to write you letters--something a little more formal than this electronic journal we've got here (which I hope you enjoy reading one day), and something a little more tangible. Until then, I hope to document the little things. Cliche, yes. But also important, I think. Even though I've got some weird memory, a good one at times, I still forget about moments, and, more importantly, milestones. I guess this is just a hope to give you what I wish I had for myself. We could say that this is in part for me as well, and it definitely is, but those parts of myself that you are involved in. And, these days, those are some of the best. 

P.S. We got the prettiest pumpkins that we have no intention of carving. 

We Will Need Them All

"Don't wish me happiness. I don't expect to be happy all the time...It's gotten beyond that somehow. Wish me courage and strength and a sense of humor. I will need them all." --Anne Morrow Lindbergh

Changes are upon us, but not much feels different. Independence for some, new companionship for others, and there's a feeling that it's all going to change in a year. And it's definitely going to, but we also need to pause and let it just happen. Or maybe that's just me. 
There are the dates that we're waiting to arrive, like September 23: the day Meghan starts her new job. Let's pause, breathe and celebrate that. We're proud of you, but, more importantly, you're proud of you. I think you've got most of the changes already behind you, or just waiting for you on the threshold, and that's exciting and exhausting at the same time.
How about September 26: the day I start my third Senior year of college, and the final one at that. Patting myself on the back, wiping the sweat from my upper lip, and picturing Barrett standing next to me in my cap and gown. Along with my three best ladies, of course. If that doesn't get me through these next nine months, at least pictures of Norway and the Italian coast will. I'm hopeful of that. 
Or how about October 23: the day Brit flies 3,000 miles to face her beloved New York, New York, reunite with those of past shenanigans, and meet The Case. We're proud of you, and I think when you step off the plane, it'll almost feel like nothing's changed. But, you'll see. We'll see. Obviously everything has tilted on its own axis, reversed, turned the other way, and pushed you forward into a completely different world, but that city's still home in some aspects. 
Or, finally, how about Halloween, Thanksgiving, Christmas, the day Barrett says "I love You", a new year, Alex's store's opening (it's gonna happen, lady!), or the moment the Magnolia tree in our front yard finally decides to give our house a huge, wall-breaking hug? Or maybe, just maybe, the day we realize that we're in "it" and that there's nothing better than what we're doing, simply because we're just doing it? Maybe we'll never get there, or maybe we're in it right now and we're just too focused on getting out of right now to see it. Either way, we're in it together, guys, gals, shit-heads, cats, and the homeless, so let's keep doing what we're doing. 

Life Moments | September 7- September 13

Barrett played model.

Except nothing is as beautiful as a naked window greeting at the peak of the afternoon. 

Or these other moments we've been livin' lately.

 

Meghan and I went swimming in new bathing suits and went to a wedding in a church--all in one week. We're growing up, folks! But we'll never be too old for a match of mancala outside of Twiggs. And yes, Molly is married. Guess we're not the only ones growing up. 

September, keep doin' your thing. We'll be here doing ours. 

P.S. Thanks for the 70 degrees today. Keep it up. 

A Bear & A Brit & A Miley

Bear went on a little vacation to Grandma & Grandpa's this past weekend. Mom needed (needs) a break. We're officially convinced he's just bored of our house and bored of us. And was probably spoiled rotten by the two best grandparents. Apparently he was an angel, so it was nice for Alex to be baby free. We even saw a movie! The Spectacular Now. Got our fix of teen angst with a coming of age film. Brit, Alex, and I were pleasantly surprised. Well written, well acted. 
We were all reunited with the little guy last night. He ate in his teepee, pooped mid-dance, swayed to Django Reinhardt, and used his new teeth brushin' skills with Aunty Brit. The two Bs in this house are best buds. Meghan and I like to think we have a chance at being his favorite aunt, but Brit comes home each night and we don't really exist anymore. It seems as though we all have different roles in his life, and it's obvious that Brit takes the stand as the older teenage brother. Still figuring out what Meghan and I are. Maybe one day he'll let us know. 

After a huge red wine spill and multiple time outs, we caught the VMAs just in time. Even Barrett was dropping his jaw with Miley and Gaga's butts in his face. Or maybe it was all our talk about how we don't understand anything anymore. Guess that's the key to sleep since he eventually passed out in mom's arms. 

A Peek Into Monday Night | 18 Months Old

These days, we're all just hoping that he has a good session of belly laughing and doesn't break his nose from flipping over the back of the couch. He's crazy and he knows what he wants. It's weird to think that when we moved in here--almost a year ago!--he was a drooly blob that couldn't be left alone. I sometimes look at him as he watches his "shows" and eats blueberries on the couch (that he sat on by himself,) and think that he doesn't need us anymore. Flash forward to five minutes after that peaceful sit sesh, and it's tugging on mom's knee caps wanting whatever he wants and whining about Bowie being upstairs. Everything is "mommy" and mommy is his everything. Brit usually comes in to save the night and whisks him upstairs for some rough housing while Alex, Megh, and I watch a bad TLC or ABC Family show. Or the Bachelor. Two nights ago, this is what happened, and Brit and the babe came back downstairs and caught a glimpse of the "Man with the 132 lb. Scrotum" special. Bear plopped into my lap and quietly passed out with food in his hand. I guess that's his new thing since the breast feeding-to-sleep battle is finally over! I can roll with that. 

Also, really into nudity. Any time, any room. 

                                                           

 [Words]

Bowie

Mommy

Dog/Woo woo

Cheeeeeeese!

Please

Sorry

Shows

Ball

Nose

Eyes

Whoa!

Uh oh! 

Hi/Bye

Apple

Bubble