In which I give you the horribly overdue update

Chapter one: the children

The children are doing well.

The Tills is walking now.  Swiftly.  Daringly.  Drunkenly.  We're deep in the phase of the permanent egg-on-head.  She's constantly falling down, getting back up, and falling again.  It's kind of cute.  Until someone asks what happened to her forehead.  She greets everyone by saying "Hi Tilley." We'll get around to explaining to her that not everyone is named Tilley, but for now it's just too cute to criticize.  Yesterday was the first day I've dropped her off at daycare and she didn't flip out. . .she's eating entirely solid food now and eating more than Cole most days.

Cole has recently made me question every maternal bone in my body.  Maybe all of that baby-craving was just gas.  When people talk about the "terrible twos", it's only because they don't have the stomach to discuss the threes.  The only thing I can figure is that folks must block out that entire year of their child's life like a giant case of Post Traumatic Stress Syndrome.  I'm trying to find health insurance that covers the PTSS therapy necessary to raise a three year old. 

Our daily cycle is consumed with tantrums; the likes of which can instantly send you into a frenzy yourself.  And in public? Forget it.  That kid has me wrapped around his finger.  I'll do anything to stop the looks of the people around me without kids (and some with!).  Words can't describe the first time (or second, or fifteenth) someone gives you that looks that says "I'm disgusted by your child, you, and myself for choosing this checkout line."  It's just awful.

Yes, please! Have the candy bar.  Have two.  Have my checkbook.  Whatever will make you stop.  Of course I'll fill the grocery cart with nothing but french fries.  You're the boss.  You hold every thread of my free will between your fingers.  I was silly to ever think I was the parent. 

So things are pleasant in that respect.

On the other hand, I equally have no words for the way I've seen him grow, almost daily, since I've been working and since he's been at daycare.  His language has gotten so much clearer.  He's told me he loves his teacher. "Mum.  I lub Mizz Jenn." (We will have to have some follow up discussions about Miss Jenn. . .) He's developed an amazing imagination that I'm truly blessed to watch unfold at the end of everyday while he plays by himself.

I found this today while he was napping.  His horses were pulling Cheez-Its.  So cute.  And explains the ant problem. . .

Chapter two: the husband

The husband is doing well, also.  He's gone back to work a few days a week now that the kids are in daycare.  I think this is good for his psyche.  Don't get me wrong. . .Bill is an amazing stay at home dad, but stress is high when you're home in the dead of winter with two (sometimes straight from the devil) children while in your in-laws' home.  And let's remember who his in-laws are.  They're tougher than most.

He keeps busy.  Constantly cleaning.  Making dinner.  Changing diapers.  In his downtime, after he's put the kids to bed, he does stuff like this:

Sometimes I think he does it because I can't. . .but really, it's just because he's gone nearly bat sh*& crazy. 

Chapter three: the thaw

The winter has been tough for us.  The house has mostly looked like this:

. . .and that makes it tough to get outside.  In fact, it's April 1st and we just got another 8 inches of snow today.  8 inches! Hopefully it'll be gone by the weekend, but New England in the spring is also a yucky place to be.  We've been seriously daydreaming about other places we might live and other things we might do.  And you know what they say about dreamers. . .

No. . .I'm not really sure what they say, either.  But maybe that stuff might just happen someday.

Chapter four: new ventures

You all know that I've been seriously committed to local organic farming and more recently, the health of food production (wow. . .does it sound like I work at a university or what!?!). . .and I've finally joined a CSA! My sister-in-law and I decided to split a large, family share of a local farm and I really couldn't be happier about the decision. 

I'm both excited and nervous to have made the commitment to use, cook, and eat only what's in season and provided to me by the farm.  But, I'm very fortunate to have children and a husband who love veggies, so it'll be fun for us all. 

I've also made an attempt (another one!) at growing my own vegetables.  I've started zucchini, tomatoes, spinach and herbs from seed.  So far, so good. . .but my thumbs are black even when my will is great. 

Here's what my efforts look like so far:

We'll see if I can keep it going.  I'm certainly making the effort.

And, for the past two months or so, I've made all of our bread from scratch.  Not too shabby when you consider we go through about two loaves a week.  I just couldn't feed Cole and Tills the junk that is in most commercial breads.  Especially since the three year old is only interested in jam sandwiches for most meals.

Note to self: I should really learn to make jam.

I have good stories that I've yet to tell you.  Like the time Bill smashed the car (okay, it wasn't his fault. . .per se). . .and our most recent trip to the doctor's office.  But all for another day.  Good to see you're still around.

We'd love to hear from you.  How's your spring so far?