It's a strange kind of mirror

Good evening.  I am enjoying my nightly strawberry, sour-cream, brown sugar combo.  Sound weird?  It's not.  It's amazing.  Sour-cream cuts the sweetness of the brown sugar and that's the truth.

Colt says this one is a Princess Heart

I love my house.  Sure my neighbors are kooky, sure there's a highway at the end of the street that makes for some interesting sounds, and sure we still only have ONE picture on the wall, but I love it.  Tonight grandma was here and Colt had a collaborator over and we all peacefully existed in the same home without stepping on each other's toes or waking a napping Lane.  I'm surprised how many years I took multiple rooms for granted.

Lane is crawling all over the place too, encouraged by the space.  He's so good at it now.  I thought he'd be an early bird with the way he kicked his feet wildly at 4 months, but he is a spot-on kid so far, hitting all of his milestones at the most even of times.  By the way, he ate a pickle tonight.

During the day we are all out in the yard, Colt pulling on vines, sawing wood into small pieces, unveiling concrete and unearthing ivy while Lane pulls up grass and discovers clover or my notebooks and I bask in the sun and throw balls for Zuko - remarking every few minutes that these are the best days and that I should remember how they feel when I think I'm dying from a lack of inspiration.  

 During the night it's a two hour bedtime routine in hopes of easing him to sleep.  Quiet low lit bath, quiet story time, quiet nursing and singing, quiet rocking, quiet crib time - which almost always ends in a screaming baby fighting hands that try to ease him down into dream.  He does not love sleep and I understand.  As recent as last night I was fighting it too, trying to relax at an insane hour and eventually having to watch sitcoms to calm my beating heart.

We are all rookies, learning as we go how to hang curtains, what time of year to wrap our oak trees, how to calm a riled-up son, and how to surrender to sleep.