One

This wild and crazy guy is 1 today. ONE! I can still remember the sunrise on the morning he was born, the feeling as he was placed on my chest seconds after being born, the moment my husband told me it was a boy, the fuzz on his beefy arms, the look on the girls' faces when they met him the first time.

Not to mention the days and months since where he surprised us with his ability to tolerate the girls' shenanigans, his pleasure at being in the company of anyone new, his quiet curiosity at the world, his insatiable appetite for anything but a raspberry. Then there is his insufferable cuteness. Okay, I'm pretty biased on that last one.

We aren't ones for over-the-top first birthday celebrations. We will make a cake and let him smash it wherever he wants (although, this boy does not like to waste food). I will rewrap the toy we've given all our children for their first birthday. We will shower him with affection and love. And he'll be wearing some cool/funny looking pants while we do it.

I adore the Quick Change Trousers from Anna Maria Horner. I'd made him some when he was a newborn, then slacked off. A few new pairs were in order for my growing boy. I'll admit, I doubted my fabric selection, thinking it was all a bit much. The combos worked great flat, but as pants I'm not so sure. Ah, whatever, right? You're only 1 once.

11 months

Just sitting in the airport, my kids at home. There is an ache in my breast that is more than my heart. Yesterday was the last day I nursed my baby boy, my little man.

Don't get me wrong, I am beyond thrilled to be headed to Austin. Hubby is by my side (wondering why I'm blogging on our layover). The kids are home with Baba in baking heaven. I get to wear necklaces again, like mine from here and here. And I'm going to QuiltCon. Hello!?

But I nursed my baby boy for the last time yesterday. We shared a fleeting moment in the pre-dawn light, our last gathering in the dark, skin to skin. I can't admit to loving nursing, but I have loved the relationship it builds. That I am so needed, that we have something no one else can lay claim to. But he's a mobile, curious creature now. He's got more important things to check out (like his sisters) and greater things to eat. 

Seriously greater things, he has well earned his nickname of The Garbage Truck.

So I kissed him softly in the middle of the night as we tiptoed out of the house on our way to airport. If you see me this weekend, hug me gently or just slap my butt, because there is an ache in my breast.

Ahhh...

There is that expression about not knowing what you've got until it's gone. Turns out I didn't know I needed a vacation until I had one.

Paper Chains

 As I was saying on the weekend, I am aiming simply these days. It is easy for me to not get caught up in the holiday hoopla, I'm rather good at ignoring a lot of things. Just like I ignore the dog hair dinosaurs on the floor and the sinks we're using as nightstands. That being said, I still want to give the kids something special about the holiday and enjoy my own traditions, the ones I actually enjoy.

The highlight for me is always chopping down our tree. A drive to the mountains, a stomp through the forest, snacks by the bonfire afterwards. It is one of the Christmas preps we do together as a family and I will defend this tradition to my death.

But then I have to decorate the tree. That, I could do without. Thankfully the girls are old enough now to be decent at hanging ornaments and actually get excited by it.

I did something different this year though. I've come to the realization that when it comes to creativity my girls are like me, process oriented. They don't care so much for the final product as the act of creating. I milked that predilection to create decorations this year, instead of pulling out our mishmash of vintage and collected.

We spent an hour making paper chains from leftover scrapbooking paper (but any construction paper would do too). I listened to them sing this as they held each and every link to dry:

A B C D E F G
Gummy bears are good for me.
One is red, one is blue.
One is nipping at my shoe.
Now I'm running for my life.
Because the red one has a knife.

Yup, super Christmasy in this house.

The paper chains are on the tree, accompanied by snowflakes lovingly made after dinner the other night as we drank wine with friends. Just a little bit of tinsel and our tree is done. It is pretty and simple and soft and I love it. Done.