Family & Home

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For the first six weeks of his life he probably spent at least 23 hours of every day next to me, in my arms or in the Moby. Then at six weeks old he caught the same deep chest cough that most of the family had and it was an intense few days. But we walked through it, he and I, for three nights of a collective ten hours of sleep.

And we continued to spend most of our day completely attached to one another, up until just recently.


He’s an intense little guy, we’ve said since his birth. That’s how he came to meet us. That’s how he spent his earliest weeks. That’s how we’ve spent much of these past nearly six months. We give snacks and visit the gardens and make sourdough bread, he and I.


Since he is either in the bouncy seat, the Ergo, or on my hip these days, he is a bit difficult to get photos of. But chicken watching through the screen door on Mama’s hip seemed like the blurry photo opportunity I needed.

And then we made dinner, he and I.

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We have gotten a good amount of rain this spring. The gardens look good, the trees look good, and the ponds are full. There have also been quite a few mud days in which the youngest among us are generally relegated to inside activities. You know, because of the mud.

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I say generally because things are getting a bit predictable around here. Every time it rains I tell myself I’ll wait a bit after the rain before I let Ruthie head out to make mud pies. But every time it rains she inevitably looks at me with those big blues and works her singsong trickery when asking to head outside. And I say yes, because she hasn’t been outside much in days and how bad can it really be, right?

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And inevitably she biffs it, as we all often do, and ends up flat on her back (and usually front), covered in mud. So she comes in and heads for the chair next to the sink saying “I need to wash my hands, mommeeee!”. I smile and heat up a pot of bath water and give her something I know will keep her busy in the interim – a snack.

And so we wash away the mud with soap and warm water and carbs smeared with butter. It’s usually not long after this charade that she asks to head outside once more, reassuring me that she most certainly will not get muddy.

I probably should just start the bath water when I help her get her boots back on.