Little Bird comments: 78

It's been a busy week — playing, people, parties, perfect weather, broken cars (again, after it was supposedly fixed — no comment; car shopping), pastries, parks, a birthday, birthfamily party, knitting, golden sunshine, rainy nights, more playing, the days rushing like stars across the sky in a fast-mo video, a beautiful, sparkling blur of all the things and places and people I love. Amelia travels her spaces with confidence and moxie, here, there, everywhere, full of light and delight, always with a stick in her hand, tongue out, always happy, always curious, forward, forward, naturally careful but without fear or hesitation, arms open to everyone. At the start and end of each busy day we lie in the big bed listening to the noises float through the open windows; it's there where I get to think in long, looping strings of images like garlands of photos, her sweet face in every one as my fingers thread through her hair and trace her golden eyebrows. She lies soft and quiet at my side, thinking her own baby thoughts. Little bird with ruffly, downy feathers tucked up close. Her softness, her sweetness, her sounds. In the distance dogs bark. Neighbors arrive home or leave. Breeze blows. Voices ebb and recede. We drift and dream. I can hardly wait for each new day. When it comes: Good morning, my dearest sweet lovely adorable little dearest sweetest darling. What will we do today? Everything, everything. Oh, everything's possible.

My gosh, it's just so good. This precious gift. This feeling of amazed wonder, and overwhelming gratefulness that never leaves.

My Wish comments: 214

Two years ago yesterday I went for a walk in the woods and made a wish on my birthday. Though I didn't know it then, that night, that very night, my wish (at last, at last, for I'd made the same wish for many, many, many, many birthdays) began to come true. And now she is here. My birthday miracle. The miracle of my life. My wishes are all for her now. Darling, darling, darling wonderful girl. Thank you.

comments: 112

Happy New Year to you, and thank you so much for all of your kind Christmas wishes! Oh, it's been so lovely and slow here. Slow like only the week between Christmas and New Year's ever is. It's the only one like this in the whole year. How I long for a snowstorm to keep it going, keep the glacier-pace of these quiet, messy, wonderfully slow days going! Alas, it's already January 2. And we have only moss on logs and gray skies for our winter so far. No snow in sight; we might have to go and find some.

Merrymaking comments: 154

In the mornings, I listen to her waking up. She hums and talks to herself in her baby language. Da-dee-dee. DA-dee-dee. Outside it's still black and cold. The lights from the baby monitor, the alarm clock glow in the dark. I listen to her: Hmm-hmm-hmm, hmm-hmm-hmm. The first six notes of "Jingle Bells," over and over. I hum the rest to myself, smiling. Eventually she insists — HMM HMM HMM! — and I know it's only a minute or two until it's a flat-out squawk — Come and get me now, people! I got you, babe. I am here.

These bright, brisk days the house fills with her sounds. The humming, the chatting, the thumping of the walking, the thumping of the dropping of things, the sliding of chairs across rug, across wood, the bongo drums, the tiny piano, the jingle bells that she shakes and bangs, the stumbling, the falling, the crying, the giggling, the chasing of the dog, the banging of spoons on trays, the banging of blocks on gates, the clatter of the tin cake-carrier when she drops it (favorite thing to carry around), the bubble-blowing, the singing, the questioning, the humming, the dear, sweet, jolly blah-blah of babydom, and oh, my stars, oh, oh how I love it so.

I wish you a very Merry Christmas, and a wonderful week of peace and tenderness, and simple pleasures wherever you find them. I hope joy comes to you, and your family, and your friends, and your animals in this wintertime, and I hope there are wonders, too, and wishes that come true. I hope you get to give a kid a great present, walk in the snow, go ice skating, see the city lights, sit in front of a crackling fireplace, or hold a sleeping baby. I hope you find magic in the season, especially in the moments when you least expect it. Thank you for being a part of our lives this year, and, from all of us Paulsons, I wish you much love and happiness. Merry, merry Christmas to you.

Xoxoxoxoxo,
a+a+a+c+bee

Midsummer Magic comments: 141

Oh, in the midst of summer! What a lovely weekend it was: glorious weather, great fathers and grandfathers, a festival, lazy mornings, good company, good food, tiny lights, sun spots, a picnic on the hill, cool breezes through the pine trees, ukelele songs, a wedding in the distance, baby singing, bright nights, rose mallow blooming, a sleepy kitty in my spot on the chaise, a baby bunad, a band playing. Birds singing. A blue jay that visits us in the back yard lately, making me feel like little Mary Lennox. I was buzzed by a hummingbird. Oh, June. You've been so good to us, June.

***I will definitely tell you about the dress and the lights when I have a minute more to write. And to make the daisy chain you just pick a bunch of little daisies that grow in the grass at the park, keeping their stems as long as you can. Braid the stems tightly together (with the flowers at the top), adding new daisies in when you have about an inch or so of stem left on the previous daisy. The stems are flexible so just tie the end of the chain gently to the beginning flowers when the crown is big enough. Place on baby and kiss one thousand times.

New Year Start comments: 318

Thank you so much for all of the New Year's greetings! We had a very, nice quiet (embarrassingly quiet; we didn't even stay awake until midnight) new year! I made a pancake. Amelia rocked her new bouncy seat. Our dear friends and neighbors had us for dinner at their lovely house on New Year's Day. I made a bunny (I named her Marjorie) for Amelia (I don't have a pattern for her because I made it up. But maybe I'll write a pattern. I have a few changes in mind, anyway!). I made seafood chowder yesterday in my new stock pot (an awesome Christmas gift from Andy's parents) and it was really good! I find that it's Friday already, and that is startling. My birthday is on Monday. What kind of birthday cake do you think I should I make?

comments: 249

Mornings, noons, and nights. My girl and I are early risers. Up around 5 a.m. (which is when Andy gets up to go to work), I take my shower by Christmas-tree light, and bring my trusty coffee pot and my fake candle back up to bed on the tray. Then I wait for my lady to wake. When she does, I go in and unwrap her from her swaddle and she smiles at me. Her big huge darling smile. (That's been happening for about a week. Still just can't believe she does that. It's my favorite moment of the day.) She unfolds her tiny arms and reaches up with her fists and down with her tiny toes and stretches everything. She makes her little blustering noises, tiny snorts and snuffles — it's hard to wake up. I say, "Good morning, my dear lady! What are we going to do today?" Then I pick her up and she buries her face in my neck and puts her warm hands on my chest. I kiss her neck where it's warm and soft (well, where isn't it warm and soft) and we linger here, only minutes (before she wiggles and yawps and calls for her breakfast), but for as long as she'll let me. The day begins. These lazy, busy, soft, warm, long, lovely, lovely days at the end of the lovely year with our sweet, funny, silly, snuggly, adorable, adorable, darling girl. I look into her beautiful navy blue eyes and make a wish.

***

Just a minute ago it was "snowing," small almost-flakes that Greta (miracle Posie assistant, who comes three afternoons a week and who has kept everything running like clockwork, running better than when I ran it myself, quite frankly) and I, both of us Midwestern girls, watched from the windows with pure longing. I can see why they call them flurries. Such a pretty and capricious word. The flakes swirled and fell, invisible as they hit the ground. Inside, we are cozy and keeping warm, piled under our various piles of calico, wool, and goosedown. We seem to have so many piles like that here. A pile for every room. We don't do much (well, dear Greta does, but the rest of us don't). Just sit, and snuggle, and drink, and sometimes rock in the rocking chair, maybe make some tea or hot chocolate, maybe watch Downton Abbey, maybe light a firelog or add some wood to one that's already flickering, and then go back to the downy pile. I like to turn all the sounds off and listen to the furnace sometimes. Last night, late last night, I finished The Long Winter. That book was awesome. I can't believe I'd never read it before. The scene where Almanzo and Cap are trying to make it back across the frozen slough with the sixty bushels of wheat and the horses keep falling through the snow? Ouf. The way she described Prince standing in the snow hole with his head down, waiting for Almanzo to help him again almost made me cry. MAN do I love pioneer lit. I still have to tell you about my other books. But I am so lazy.

New Year's Eve. A goodbye to the old year, even as everything here still seems so new. I still haven't really found the words to describe most of how I feel. Part of that is probably just plain old tiredness. I was generally worn out by the holidays when I didn't have a three-month-old baby. Part of it is (still) just plain astonishment. Even when I'm just thinking to myself, hearing my own voice ramble on inside me and not even trying to talk out loud, I'm still just mostly thinking, "I am astonished!" And that feeling looks like a big blue Montana sky.

Part of it is that gratitude just floods me moment to moment, and humbles me speechless. I think in prayers now, and I guess they have a language all their own.

I wish you a very, very happy and fun New Year's Eve, and a really wonderful new year.

'Tis the Season comments: 161

Over the river and through the woods to auntie's house we went this year, a beautiful Thanksgiving in a million different ways. I love how long Thanksgiving weekend is. You wake up the next morning and it feels like Sunday except that it's Friday. The weekend hasn't even started yet. It's so great.

I remember my mother always working on Christmas projects late into the night, trying to get them finished in time for Christmas. I totally get that now. I can't say I've ever understood that before, but I get it now. Because you have so many more ideas and so much less time. But I am trying to make two things I really love for Amelia this year: a knitted Christmas dress (which I will tell you about — I'll take another photo of it this week) and a Christmas stocking. I bought this pretty pattern from this cool Etsy shop, and had an idea to make new stockings for each of us using motifs from the sampler pattern. But in reality I might only get Amelia's done. We'll see. I guess I've never been much of a stocking person in the past, though I've made a lot of them. Andy and I haven't actually gotten any stocking stuffers for each other before, now that I think about it. I think that needs to change! :)

I'm making soup all by myself tonight so I need to run to the store. I can't believe I am this excited about going grocery shopping and cooking dinner. WOW. That's weird. I will let you know if it lives up to my skyrocketing expectations!!!

P.S. Her dress (and maybe I will get a pattern written for that someday), and her blue bodysuit :)

P.P.S. These smiles. Oh my stars up above! They light my world.

Finally Outside comments: 149

We had really nice and strangely quiet little Fourth of July yesterday — Andy's fighting off some sort of hanging-on virus, I was really tired, and the pets were pretty stressed about the constant fireworks. Our sweet neighborhood friends Katie and Tim invited us for a little BBQ at their house across the street, and that was just perfect.

I feel like I'm starting to get back in the swing of things. I could use some help, though: Do you have a good 1) fish taco recipe and/or 2) spy-thriller-type book recommendation?

(I added the vanilla buttermilk cake recipe here! This was delicious, but definitely best the first or maybe second day. Eat it fast!)

Sunshine Day comments: 45

The weather here has been so glorious the past few days it's almost all I can think about. And talk about. I think my life revolves around the weather more than I think it does. Getting outside into the sunshine this weekend was like a dream. We had my family over for Easter lunch and got to spend most of the day outside. My mom made that beautiful strawberry shortcake!

I'm off to the woods before the rain starts up again. Back in a bit!