Catching (way) up, a photo dump.
So where was I? Goodness. Time just flies and flies on by. I am the self-appointed 'keeper of memories' at our home, in part because Patrick self-admittedly has a poor memory for details, so my lack of blogging feels like these memories will get otherwise lost. Must get back at it!
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So much of the time, I'm running through my days. I said wistfully the other day how I missed when Anna was a baby and the boys were too little for school. We made our own schedule and spent our days as we pleased. I read them the entire corpus of Laura Ingalls Wilder that year while nursing Anna... we made a lot of cookies... it was good and relaxed and peaceful.
Now life feels like Hurtling them Into the Next Stage phase. Not that I am trying to make them grow up, but I mean my days are just so dictated by the getting ready for school, the decompressing from school, getting dinner on the table, getting bedtime going... there are so many routines to keep up that it feels like we have less free time together.
I suppose this is a wistful reality of them growing up. So I keep taking photos of what was/is happening in hopes to finally get a moment to blog about our life. Each photo and story associated with it reminds me how good things are even when it's hard to 'feel' it.
Elijah has developed a new and hilarious habit of throwing things down the cat flap on our basement stairs. Often he does this when I am reading to the others, or we are praying the Rosary -- moments that 'ideally' should be quiet and serene. But are punctuated by a busy baby who loves to shove his toys down this handy little hole.
This is a small smattering of the objects I found at the bottom of the basement stairs. I especially love that he managed to put an actual cat down the cat flap.
Anna chosing an interesting get-up to help clear the table. Diet Coke pants.
I adore London Fogs and when I realized I could use my hand blender at home and do it, I saved myself a wad of cash and the inconvenience of having to be social. (I kid, I kid. The people who work at the coffee shop around the corner from me are literally the NICEST PEOPLE in the world and they make legit espressos and PSLs from their own beans roasted on site. Deeeelicious. {Not a sponsored post. I just think they make great coffee.})
I normally bring my double-stroller to pick up Anna from school but I decided to put Elijah in the ergo and make Anna walk. For... fitness? Or naivete? Because the walk home from school looked like this instead. That's a lot of child to be lifting at one time.
The Feast of St. Michael. I normally make angel food cake and decide I'll ride out the effects of gluten consumption for myself, but this years since now Isaiah can't tolerate wheat either, I made a pavlova for the first time. It was delicious and insanely easy! WAY easier than cake!
Served with requisite blackberry topping. I am abysmal at potty training, but all three of my verbal children can explain with great excitement why we serve blackberries every year on this feast day. That counts for something, or so I tell myself.
I remember my sister telling me she asked her husband one year what he wanted her to do for Father's Day. He said he didn't care what they did, as long as it was acknowledged somehow. I thought that was such a lovely, simple way of explaining it and it's my own mantra for observing the Church year. Some days I make a themed dessert, or decorate the house, or do a craft.
Most often we simply invoke that saint at mealtime during grace. He knows we are thinking of him on his big day, and it can spark a discussion with the kids about the saint. In fact, Patrick often says ,when we sit down to eat, "who can tell me something about Saint-so-and-so" (the saint we are observing that day). It's our mini catechism lessons.
And we do it because we really like it. And the kids do, too.
Since the kids had a snowball fight recently (ah! snow!!), it seems like a good time to dust off these beautiful fall photos.
I adore this picture.
And this one.
On this night we left the kids with a very competent babysitter but alas, the timing of the dinner we attended didn't make for a good bedtime routine for Elijah. My preference is to put him to bed before I leave the house, and am confident he'll sleep well for as long as we're gone and beyond. On this night, however, he woke up in the middle of the dinner and the babysitter took him downstairs, and the older kids managed to soothe him and comfort him (since he didn't recognize the babysitter!) and he went back to sleep here.
Just looking heart-breakingly adorable.
Sunny days are meant for outdoor play. Also, that playhouse was $45 well spent, considering how much each of them enjoy it.
Isaiah dressed himself up on the feast of St. Francis. It was one of those days I had nothing liturgical planned and my sweet children surprise me with their own spontaneous enthusiasm....
Accurate before and after.
You probably can't tell but I also coloured my hair -- I have plum and auburn highlights now and it's my little late-fall mood boost.
This little guy has departed babyhood forever. He is officially is a spunky little toddler, and his burgeoning vocabulary explodes day by day. My favourite word he says now, with great reverence and admiration, is "backpack."
Onto November-ish things -- getting winter tires, sorting through mounds of hats and mittens, and drinking too much tea while I try to finish my 52-books-before-2018 goal (at only 24 right now, it's not looking promising. 😂 )
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