Temps are reaching the 50s, the sun is out, and the snow is slowly melting. School will hopefully be back in session tomorrow. So, to say farewell, I will post a few photos of Saturday’s snowboarding adventures.
Snowboard sledding
Corin lies in wait with a snowball.
Not bad for the backyard
I am super behind on posting Christmas and New Year’s pictures, but I just can’t let today pass without dumping my photos of Nashville’s epic snow day. As of 3:30 this afternoon, we had 6-7 inches of beautiful, powdery stuff in our yard, and it’s still falling at 10 p.m. Corin and I spent most of the day outdoors, except for a couple-hour break midday to cuddle up with a movie. Lina played some, too, and liked aspects of the experience. She did not enjoy any part of getting snow in her face: not an inopportune face plant, brother’s snow balls, or the wind that picked up this evening. Jon had to work most of the day but got in a few runs down our backyard hill on his snowboard before supper. We ended with homemade tomato soup and cornbread.
It was a magical, magical day.
First thing in the morning
For the record, this kid went sledding with the neighbors while mommy built the snowman.
I named him Casper.
Tasting snow
Wearing the backpack she felt was necessary for the outing
Lina, meet Casper; Casper, Lina.
Heading down the street
I am more than 5 1/2 years into this parenting gig, and I still don’t know how to tell whether my kids are getting sick.
Case in point: My kindergartner has been dragging in the mornings lately. At first I wondered if he was getting sick, but no symptoms appeared, so I figured he must be staying awake in his room after bedtime. Then this morning, he didn’t get up with his alarm. When I went to check on him, he said he was sick, with a cough and stomach ache. He seemed a little congested, so I made the call to keep him home, sighing quietly over missed errands and gym class.
One hour later, he was bright-eyed and and claiming to be completely healed. At 3:00, there is still no sign of any real illness. Is he coming down with a cold? Who knows. What I do know is that unless he’s running a fever, he’ll be going to school tomorrow.
Meanwhile, I had to wake Lina up a little after 7 a.m.: very unusual for my early riser, who is usually raring at 6:30. I found her sleeping on the floor. How long had she been there? Did she fall out of bed? Perhaps this toddler bed transition is not going as smoothly as we thought. On the up side, whatever she’s doing in there, she’s not waking us up.
As soon as I got her little Van Winkle self awake, she started sneezing, and she’s had a slightly runny nose and red, watery eyes the rest of the day. The report from school was good, but she has been clingier than usual. Is she getting a cold? My guess is yes, but who knows for sure?!
It’s still remarkable to me how often in parenting I’m just guessing. I’m a fan of following informed instincts, but sometimes, I really have no idea. I suppose I’m practicing “fake it ’till you make it” parenting: act like you know what you’re doing and hope you actually do. The problem is I may not know for sure for at least 10-15 more years, and by then, it’s too late for re-dos.
Which is why I pray, and sometimes have to ask my kids for forgiveness. It also helps to have a community of understanding moms to poll for ideas.
Speaking of which: Anyone have a surefire method for telling when your kid is actually getting sick?
This is what bedtime looked like tonight:
She’s been trying to climb out of her crib for weeks, and I have been steadfastly ignoring it in hopes we could get more mileage from the crib. But alas, today she fell while trying to climb out, and the jig was up. No more crib for our big girl. Daddy converted it to the toddler bed this afternoon. She took one look at the soft, cozy bed, climbed in, stuck her fingers in her mouth, and it’s been quiet ever since. I refuse to make predictions about the rest of the night, because we all know how that turns out, but so far, so good.
We’re home after a rather daunting nine-hour drive yesterday. We walked in the door to find the dog had peed somewhere in the den, exact location yet to be discovered. Welcome home, family.
This morning, we experienced that rarest of phenomena in which all four of us slept in. (The kids’ schools are still on fall break.) This was lovely until realizing over breakfast – thanks to the ding of my calendar reminder – that Lina had a Vanderbilt appointment at 10 a.m. We hustled and just made it. We stopped at the store to restock our bare shelves and returned home to piles of sandy laundry.
So, yes, vacation is over. On the up side, it’s the kind of clear, fall day in Tennessee that makes locals thank God we live here. I gave in to a few selections from the season’s ridiculous array of pumpkin products, and tonight we’ll have hot apple cider and a fire in the fireplace. This is my favorite season, after all.
And when I miss the beach, I have our photos to flip through…and the piles of sand still hiding in beach toys and the corners of suitcases.
Today’s beach photos are actually from Camp Helen State Park, a 1 1/2-mile bike ride from our rental house in Rosemary Beach. The beach front is another .6-mile slog on foot through deep sand, but the end result was worth it: wide open beach with hardly another soul in sight. Today has been a little cooler and breezy, great for flying the kite, hunting for sea shells, and basking in the sun.
Tomorrow we head home. No one in this family wants to go. I was talking to Corin about this being our last day, and I reminded him the purpose of trips like this is the memories we take with us. It’s a reminder to me, too, as we finish out our last evening and prepare for the long drive back to our daily routine.
My dad used to sing a Gaither Vocal Band song: “We have this moment to hold in our hands and to touch as it slips through our fingers like sand.” I’m infinitely grateful for photos and memories and beautiful family relationships forged over so many moments like these.
Another gorgeous day at the beach: cloudless blue sky, crystal clear water, a light breeze, silky-soft sand insinuating itself into every nook and cranny, wiped out kiddos napping the afternoon away, bikes, a heated pool at sundown… October may just be the only way to do the beach.
Today’s sky was crystal clear all day, without the slightest wisp of cloud. The Gulf was calm, cool and clear. We met new friends, rode bikes, tried out a new neighborhood pool, and soaked in another lovely day in paradise. The kids are exhausted by day’s end, but they sleep with the solid rest that comes from hours in the sun and fresh air.
It has been four years since our family has been to the beach. Lina had never felt the sand and waves, and Corin has no memory of our last trip. Which is why when my mother-in-law suggested a trip to Rosemary Beach over fall break this year, we jumped at the chance. She chose a beautiful house to rent for five days, and here we are, soaking in every moment. The weather is perfect, the beach and town beautiful and the crowds sparse. The kids are having a blast, which means we are, too.
And yes, I am blogging on vacation, because if I don’t, I will end up bombarding you with hundreds of photos at once, which is just not good for anyone.
Early morning swim in the heated pool
The kids are a-okay with getting ferried around town in a bike trailer.
First touch of the Gulf waves:
She wears that hat better than I do.
Mermaid!
Checking out a live seashell
Merman!
In just a few minutes, I will leave to pick up my baby girl from her first day of preschool. It’s here, and I still can hardly wrap my head around the fact that Lina’s in school.
My tiny girl weathered drop-off pretty well. The kids gather in the cafeteria before class starts, and the chaos and noise had her pretty overwhelmed. There was one major hair-pulling incident there, but she eventually walked willingly down the hall to the classroom holding her teacher’s hand and mine. (It was the first time she’s wanted to hold my hand when she didn’t need help!) Once she got into the classroom, the teacher gave her time to do a bit of exploring, and within minutes, she was happy and interested. When I said good-bye, she gave me one of her sweet hugs and kisses and went right back to playing: no tears, no drama. I got an email from the teacher saying she was doing great and LOVED the songs.
A new stage begins. I only cried a little on the way home.
Man, I really hate that backpack. I’ve got to find a better one. Anyone have suggestions for backpacks that will hold a folder and other necessities but not prevent my tiny child from being able to, you know, walk and stuff?
A Dash of the Unexpected 