So Many Reasons to Love Pink

Pink is my favorite color. I really love a lot of colors, and I love the way colors play with one another. But I am devoted to pink. And there have been such a lot of good reasons to love pink around here over the last few weeks.

Peonies in our yard! (Now faded, but I'm still reveling in their memory.)

This amazing sweater gifted to us by Kyrie. If you're one of the more than 400 people who have viewed it (or the more than 80 who have faved it!) over on her Ravelry page, or if you've been following along at near:far almost from the beginning, you'll certainly recognize it. She knitted it during her pregnancy for her own baby, and I loved it so much that she sent it to me. I am so, so grateful for this gift for so many reasons.

Roses from our garden.

Washcloths. I've knitted four of these (in pink) recently and love them for wiping little hands and faces.

And most especially, this wee pink girl.

Giving up~Giving in~Just Giving

Yesterday was one of those days. You know the kind. The ones where it feels as though the baby hasn't slept for more than 20 minutes at a time in a week, where the three-year-old falls through the cracks of the day, leaving me wondering if I even know him, where the seven-year-old and I find ourselves butting heads until it spirals into a full-blown stand-off. Those days where the choices are to either allow yourself to fall into the abyss of grumpiness, self-pity, and bad choices, or to pull yourself up with the sheer strength of your will and turn things around. And you choose the former.

Yeah, one of those days.

And then, family and love work their magic. 

The baby charms you with a smile and a giggle. The three-year-old introduces you to the Butterfly-Pirate. You offer to collaborate on a new skirt for the seven-year-old, and her admiration of its spinniness tells you that you're forgiven.

And today is always a new day.

On believing

We are big on believing around here. In the summertime, we are visited by fairies who leave behind tiny gifts from the natural world, magical notes with curly handwriting, and the most sparkling fairy dust you could imagine. When a tooth is lost, the Tooth Fairy arrives, bringing (without fail) two quarters, a note detailing the changes she sees in the child since the last time she visited, and a small gift. Each December, the visits of St. Nicholas and Santa Claus (who remain two distinct people in our minds) are anticipated with great glee. For five years, and through two moves, our home has been host to a brownie: a little "house elf" who occasionally plays mischievous tricks on us (which explains many missing socks, pencils, doll clothes, and keys...), but also shows us great generosity and kindness (surprises, serendipitous events, tiny gifts on a nightstand in the morning, a magically tidied room while we sleep, and even aid with the contents of our advent garland have all been attributed to him). 

My list of magical visitors and events could go on. These "beings" have become very alive to all of us, even to my husband and me. They have become a natural part of the rhythm of our family, not a game we enact or a trick we play on our children.

This is why it grieves me deeply to see that a tiny bit of belief is slipping away from my oldest child. I can see it in the way she has come to mention the Brownie less often, the way she commented recently about the Christmas pajamas that I make (rather than that the Brownie makes), the tone in her voice as she observed the absent muddy rabbit tracks on Easter morning this year.

Part of this has to do with a bit of carelessness on the part of my husband and me. During my pregnancy, though there was much talk about the Brownie, and many reminders to leave him some breakfast so he'd remember to offer us some small kindness, I rarely summoned the energy to "help him show his presence" again. This past Easter was one of the worst on record in our home with regard to care and secrecy. I actually had to abandon an Easter gift from each of the children's baskets after Elisabeth saw me working on them. And of course, there were the omitted footprints.

But part of it, I know, has to do with the fact that she is getting older. It seems that she is bigger every single day, and in some ways, it's even more apparent with her than it is with my tiny baby. I'm realizing more each day how short my time with my children really is -- how soon they will be all grown up.

And though she hasn't actually questioned the existence of our magical visitors, I know that questions are beginning to grow within her. They're questions I'm not yet sure I'm ready, or know how, to answer.

I was raised in a home full of tradition and beauty and celebration, but absent of belief in the extraordinary. I knew from my earliest childhood that the gifts in my stocking on Christmas morning were from my parents, not Santa Claus. I knew, as deeply and clearly as I knew that my hair was red, that there were no fairies in my backyard helping things to grow.

I understand and respect my parents' reasons for raising us in the way that they did, and yet I've chosen to do things a bit differently in my own home. I know, when my children receive a note from the fairies on Midsummer, that it was penned by me, and that the fairy dust is superfine glitter. But I also know that there is so much that is incomprehensible in the world, and that belief in fairies, Santa Claus, or a brownie are simple ways of expressing and attempting to comprehend all of this. As fumbling as my ways of sharing this with my children sometimes are, they have become a priceless element of my parenting journey and our family life.

I have a friend whose 10-year-old was angry and hurt when he discovered the "truth" about Santa Claus. I don't want my daughter to feel angry when she learns that all of these things that have been part of our lives for so long are very different from what has been communicated to her. And yet, I don't know how to prevent her disappointment and potential anger.

I'm learning to understand this as a metaphor for anything we do with our children, whether with much forethought or by happy accident. It turns out that parenting really is a road. There isn't any way to have a "method" all planned out from day one. There isn't a way to account for every variable, or to have a script for every difficult moment. There isn't a way to predict the outcome -- to see the end of this road.

But I have to see this as a gift. A gift of moments in time. Seeing klieg lights in the sky on a December night, and spontaneously "realizing" that it must be Santa's reindeer practicing for their flight on Christmas Eve. Examining a dewy note amidst a dusting of glitter, and being just as surprised as my children about how it all looks in the light of a warm June morning. Hearing my child say, "Tsk, that Brownie! He must have hidden my shoe!" instead of melting down into a tantrum of frustration over a missing article of clothing. These are gifts that my children and I have given to one another.

I hope these gifts will carry us as we continue down this road; as questions arise; as I try to meet them with grace.

For now, my seven-year-old still believes. She still holds these mysteries with wonder and reverence. I hope that, in some way, she always will.

Celebrating

This weekend, we celebrated Fiona's baptism. It was a beautiful and simple celebration, with just our family present. And we are all still feeling so joyful, two days later.

My younger brother served as her godfather, and it was so special for us to come together in this way, and for me to see my big "little" brother assume this role in my wee one's life.

I have embroidered a stole for each of my children's baptisms, and I was determined for Fiona to have one, too. I lost track of time this time -- we've had a lot going on over the last couple of weeks -- so it was churned out mostly the day before. Some of the purple air-fading ink that I used still showed on the day of the baptism (this is the same kind I used with the last two, so I'm confident it will eventually fade), but otherwise I was happy and relieved that it was ready for her.

It was a beautiful moment in time.

Seven years old!

 
{the magical moment}

 
{hyacinths gathered by the birthday girl}

 
{organizing some supplies in her new art caddy -- I love how her seven-year-old mind works}

We spent a lovely day celebrating our new seven-year-old today.

Seven feels like such a rite of passage to me. I remember being seven so well, and it was one of my favorite ages to be. I remember that feeling of newfound independence, confidence, that sense that the world was a huge, new opportunity.

 
{me at seven}

I'm in awe of the fact that my own child has reached this amazing age already. In some ways, she still seems quite little to me. But I'm seeing more and more the thoughtful, capable, graceful, strong-willed young lady that she is becoming. And I'm amazed, and just blown away by her, and the fact that we are in one another's lives.

Oh, I love you, my seven-year-old. And I hope seven is your best year yet!

As spring arrives...

...I'm loving:

Little signs of spring in our lawn.

Mama-made woolies on the babe. (Proper photoshoot still needed....)

Seedlings in our kitchen window.

Tulips. So close.

Snow-melt. Aaah.

Surprise gifts. Always.

A bit of springtime sewing.

Our little Cupcake.

Hoping that your springtime is promising as much beauty and joy as mine is!

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My firstborn has a big (seven-year-old) birthday tomorrow, and I've never missed a birthday post yet, so I hope to pop in later tomorrow. Two posts in two days?! Crazy, I know. ;)

Onesie printed by Emily.

Fiona's Birth Story

In honor of her one-month birthday, I have Fiona's birth story ready to share. After finishing typing the birth story up, I realized it's really, really long for a normal post, and I do describe a lot of the details of my experience with childbirth, which perhaps not everyone wants to read about. So I've made it a separate page, which you can link to here. Most of the photos were taken by one of my midwives, and at least one that I've chosen to share is very out-of-focus, but it was a really special moment in time. I had hoped to hire a birth photographer for this birth (and even briefly discussed the possibility with this photographer, though she lives thousands of miles from me), but given the fact that James was born in only 60 minutes and we were expecting this one to be at least that fast (which would have made it difficult for anyone, even a local photographer, to arrive in time), as well as the fact that we didn't really have the money for it anyway, we just asked the midwives to snap as many photos as they were able to get.

Anyway, I am so happy to share this birth story -- and, really, just to have it written out for my own memories.

I hope that it brings joy to those read it, and as long as comments can be positive and G-rated, I am accepting comments on it. If I receive any "yucky" comments -- either about my birthing choices or that are crude or offensive in nature, I will close the comments. Thank you for being respectful of me and my family.

Nearly a month

Hello, everyone! Thank you all so much for your sweet and supportive comments lately. There is just so much kindness around the blogging neighborhood, it really touches me. Thank you.

Our sweet wee girl turns a month old this week. One month? I can hardly believe it. Many things have happened in that time, including my newborn baby slowly transforming into what is apparently going to be a chunky infant, and I can hardly account for all that time. But one thing I can tell you is, it doesn't feel like it's been a whole month.

Lots of gazing at tiny hands and feet has transpired, as well as lots of holding and singing, and lots and lots of nursing. And we've been feeling growing pains -- all five of us. Balancing the needs of a newborn with the needs of my two older children, and a husband who works a lot, has been hard. I'd forgotten what a challenge it is even to get a shower sometimes.

However, I wouldn't trade anything, not even a million showers by myself with the door shut, for one moment staring at this sweet baby.

I feel like there's a lot to share with you all, and that'll come. But I'm working hard at not making a lot of commitments, even to this blog, for now. Right now, in this moment, getting to know Fiona, finding our footing as a family of five, celebrating 4 birthdays and Easter within 6 weeks, and caring for and protecting myself (against PPD) feel like the most important "jobs" to be focusing on.

That said, so many of you have asked to hear a birth story, and I'm working on one, including just a few photos of those precious and intimate first moments of Fiona's life (nothing explicit, however) to share here. This is the first one of my children's births to be documented in this way, and I'm excited to put the words with the images. Hopefully it will be ready to share in a few days.

Until then, I'm back to cuddling on the couch with my sweet girl, her lambskin, and some knitting.

love,
Grace

Three years old!

Today my little man turns three years old. It's so hard for me to believe that just three years ago, we were cradling a different newborn, our Jamesy. And that in just three years, he has changed so much.

One year ago, he was still navigating his way from babyhood into toddlerhood. He had very few words. Now he is a very talkative little boy who will share his thoughts on just about anything with just about anyone.

He has an amazing imagination, and spends a good bit of his time playing various characters -- a gravelly-voiced alligator, my dad(!), a ballerina. He has voices and mannerisms for each of his characters, and it makes every day a joy and a surprise.

He loves music. It's easy to see that he experiences it with his entire being. We went to see one of my husband's gigs a couple of months ago, and James was mesmerized. He still talks about the instrumentation of the band that evening, and tells us what each instrument was doing.

He loves and admires his big sister. He thinks she can do anything. I think this is incredibly sweet and precious. And the fact that she is so gentle and helpful with him makes it much sweeter.

He is a big brother! Though these last two weeks have been a challenge for him in so many ways, I am amazed and inspired by his gentleness with and love for his baby sister. And he is growing into his new role more and more every day.

I'm so proud of my big boy. Happy birthday, Jamesy!

One week

One week. As slowly as the previous three weeks -- the previous nine months, really -- went, this week has been the fastest of my entire life, I think. So much joy and adjustment are happening at our house.

~Trying to recover from childbirth (and the months of pregnancy that came before) -- still feeling a little achey and sore.

~The arrival of the Milk. And the tears that flow right along with it. (Not that I'm feeling very down, but emotional in that new-mama way.)

~Falling in love with this little lady. How can a one-week-old newborn seem so very dainty and feminine? I don't know, but baby Fiona certainly seems to be very much the essence of ladylike.

~Thinking so much about the birth. I need to get a birth story written down before I forget too many details.

~The laundry. The laundry! Luckily my husband has been handling that.

~Marveling at how much alike and still how very different she looks from her sister and brother.

~Witnessing the birth of these older siblings, their absolute adoration for their new sister. And having to come up with many, many new and creative ways to keep them busy and happy and getting along while mama is resting.

~Feeling so grateful for the generosity of friends, and the meals that have been brought to us.

~Wondering how next week -- my first week home alone with three children -- will go. (I'll have some help on some of those days, thankfully.)

~Taking lots of photos and trying to memorize these moments with my littlest babe.

~Just loving.

And thank you all so much for your many congratulations and blessings over the last week. It has been so special to read all of your warm and lovely comments as they've come in.  

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PS: The hat in this post was made by Shelley, it is 100% silk, and so soft and so beautiful. Oh, my. I am I mean, Fiona is very lucky to have it.

Welcome, baby!

Fiona Catherine

February 26, 5:26am
9 pounds even
20 3/4 inches

Born at home after a fast but intense labor.

Mama and baby are both very tired but doing well. We're all so very ecstatic to welcome our new little one.

I'm inspired

You all inspire me so much. Judging by the response to my last post, it sounds like a lot of us have been thinking about many of the same things. And so many of you had such concrete suggestions about simplifying the madness of the holidays. I think it's important to take this energy and motivation that we feel when something awful happens, or when things seem to have gotten out of control, and channel it positively in our own homes and families rather than allowing ourselves to become too gloomy about the state of the world.

I'm feeling so invigorated by so many of the comments you left. Several of you left links to Advent Conspiracy, which is an organization that encourages people to simplify the holidays in small ways -- and also works to bring clean water around the world. (Definitely worth checking out their site -- it's so beautifully done, my pregnant self even cried a little.) Lynn's point that small traditions are remembered more fondly than most any gift (even the really amazing toys that the mama herself had been coveting) was so well put, and I was impressed by how many of you are committing to "experience" gifts -- Heather gave the example of concerts and plays, which also benefits the local community. And many, many of you are committing to giving fewer material gifts, or increasing the number of handmade gifts that you give. I loved that so many of you were talking about moderation and meaning in your gift buying. I am truly, truly excited and inspired. Thank you!

For the record, I'm not morally opposed to store-bought gifts, gift-giving in general, or bargains -- I just think that it's better to have a reason for buying something rather than buying things up simply because they're cheap, or worse, out of a crushing sense of obligation. So often we think we are required to spend a certain amount, or give a certain number of gifts, to family and friends. As Deb pointed out, this season really shouldn't be about getting or even giving -- but about celebrating with those we love. (And, after moving this year, I have to say, the one thing my little family needs is less stuff, so we're definitely trying to keep it very small this year.)

Even our children need less gifts than we sometimes think. I know that mine get very overwhelmed when they have too many gifts to unwrap at one time. The other day my very, very wise friend Meghan observed that, when it comes to children, we should always remember two words: Simple. Less. How true this is -- and how hard a lesson for us adults to learn!

As with all things, I'm finding once again that following the lead of my own little elf is the way to go. She always has a little gift to make ("Mama, I just need to use some of your fabric for a little handsewing project," or "How do you spell ____? I'm making a picture for Daddy's Christmas present."), a little bit of singing to be done in her high, high little voice, or a little bit of browsing through this month's Martha, carefully determining which cookies we should try this year. Those are the things that Christmas is really made of -- not what gifts eventually present themselves under the tree on the 24th.

And now we're back to pretty pictures from me. ;)

The beginning...

This fall we began our "official" homeschooling journey with Elisabeth as she began first grade. It has been such an exciting and eye-opening process for her, for me, and for our family as a whole. I am amazed -- truly, deeply amazed -- by her receptiveness to the little bit of school work we've begun, and by her ripeness to learn the things we've worked on. (She was so excited to begin, in fact, that on the first morning that we began school stuff, I heard her tell James -- in the early morning chatting that they do in their room before we all get started on the day -- "Guess what, Jamesy? Today I'm a first grader!")

Our approach to homeschooling, at least as we begin, draws heavily on Waldorf education. One aspect of this particular educational philosophy that I really like is the approach to school readiness and literacy. Generally the alphabet is first formally introduced in first grade, and reading follows along with that. I have been excited to observe that in "waiting" until now to really delve into letters and their sounds (although she does basically know all of her letters in a casual way), that Elisabeth has really grasped them extremely quickly. And I really love that the first thing that she learns to read will be her own writing -- in a book that she has carefully and lovingly written and illustrated. 

In these photos, Elisabeth is illustrating a page in her book about the letter "characters" we've been using to learn the alphabet and introduce phonics. (Q for Queen, K for King, and so on.) Her care is so inspiring to me in my own daily work. Thank you, little one, for being my greatest teacher.

{Our path to homeschooling -- and the Waldorf approach that we're trying -- is a somewhat winding one. My parents homeschooled us, using a "radical unschooling" approach, beginning when I was five. I loved my experience, but I did go through a time when I thought I would probably still send my kids to school. Later, when I was pregnant with Elisabeth, I had the opportunity to teach cello in a Waldorf school. Many elements of this particular mode of education were, and continue to be, very inspiring to me, although as a Christian, I do not agree with most elements of anthroposophy, its foundational philosophy. We've decided to try homeschooling with Waldorf for now, but I'm open to an unschooling approach, as well, since that is how I was raised. We're currently working with (and adapting to our needs) the first grade syllabus from Christopherus Homeschool Resources.}

I don't know what to do!

Why is naming a baby so difficult? We have had a girl's name picked out for a long time -- it was in the top two choices even when we were naming Elisabeth almost seven years ago. But a boy's name ... I'm feeling lost here. My husband really, really hates the only boy's name that I like at all (Peter), and other than absolutely vetoing my one idea, he has no other suggestions. It just seems like no name is quite right. I guess we already used our favorite name. ;)

So, I'm opening it up to suggestions from the blogging neighborhood. We want something classic, and probably want to stay away from another E or J initial. Though Elisabeth and James are family names, our other girl's name is not, so we are not sticking with that vein. So really, suggest something!

At long last...

You all have been so very patient as you've waited to discover what this big work-in-progress I've alluded to is. I've been excited to share it with you, but it wasn't quite time yet. But finally today, with the help of my magnificent assistant, I have an illustration for you:

That's me. With our newest wee one traveling happily along inside my belly! (Don't you love my rosy cheeks?!)

We are all so excited around here! We can't wait to meet our new babe so that we'll have some cheeks to kiss. We expect his or her arrival to be right around the first of March, give or take. (My due date is actually March 4, but I've never made it quite to the end.) Elisabeth wants me to mention that she likes the name Cupcake for a girl, and Karl for a boy.

So, I'm sure you'll all want to know how things have been going. Baby is healthy and growing, with a strong heartbeat. Mama is very, very sick. I'm one of those unfortunate ladies who has that severe nausea and vomiting -- that lasts, and lasts, and lasts. So, though I'm quite firmly into the second trimester now, I'm still quite ill and not doing as much as I was before. Having done this twice before, I do have some perspective, and though I admit to pleading with God for it to stop sometimes, I do know that pregnancy goes by remarkably quickly, and we have a little miracle to look forward to at the end!

And to some of you who guessed about my big project -- the three most popular guesses were a book, an etsy store, and a new baby. I have to say that I would love, love, love to write a book. I don't have a particular topic in mind for one, so I don't have one in the works. But it's something that I have wanted to do since I was a wee girl myself. An Etsy store, while not in progress right now, is something you will most definitely see from me at some point, though not until after baby arrives. And those of you who guessed it was a baby ... well, you were right on!!

About a Boy

This summer my little one has turned from a baby into a little boy. (Here he is helping his daddy move a mattress earlier this week.)

Not the loquacious child that his sister was at this age, his language is just beginning to take off. He likes to add "ie" to the end of many words: "Lissie" (what he calls his sister), "rice milkie," "buggie" (for bug), and "bonkie" (when he gets a bump on the head -- or anywhere else!) are some of my favorites. Another of my favorite phrases is "Oh, my, Mama!" whenever something is amiss. "Me do it!" is something we're hearing a lot these days. And one of his very favorite things: to jump up or out from somewhere and shout "Pize!" (for surprise). I'm loving the way that his little sentences are so deliberate and carefully constructed right now. I'm just loving hearing him talk, I guess.

He's growing a bit of hair ... finally! It's sandy-colored and curls after a bath or when he's been playing hard outside.

He loves to play the piano with his sister.

He loves mud. He loves lawnmowers.

He loves a little "kitty" that he got at the zoo one day (nevermind all the mama-made dollies around here!) He loves to wear dresses and ballet costumes. He really loves to talk on the phone to anyone who will listen!

And he loves his sister most of all.

{My new computer is up and running! Yay! I can finally see what I'm looking at! My new house is not quite up and running, although we've slept here for four nights now. It has been a long and crazy move. Tomorrow we're off for a week-long trip, to here, here, and here, and stopping here and here as well. I'm so excited! I think we'll have the laptop with us, so I might post some pictures in flickr, and maybe I'll see you in this space, as well.}

Six is Super!

We've been having so much fun celebrating our six-year-old's birthday over the last several days. Thank you all so much for your sweet birthday wishes for her, as well. She has loved hearing them as they've come in -- as have I!

We had a super fun, simple, homemade birthday party with some little friends on Saturday. The kids enjoyed it, but I am making a note to self that this is the last time I will be the only adult at a birthday party, especially one that includes two two-year-olds in attendance!

Goodie bags with tags featuring the six-year-old theme. (Contents described here.)

Watercolor paper kites -- a simple, fun project, with the surprise bonus that the kites actually caught a gust of wind pretty well. I was standing outside with one, just holding the string, and it was actually flying up in the air. Who knew?

Wet felting some balls. My kids love to felt, and being the wool and felt lover that I am, we have done it a lot. It was pretty tricky to get a whole group of kids set up with it when I was the only adult, though.

Elisabeth and James with their kites later in the day. So fun and satisfying!

Lots more photos of the six-year-old weekend here.

{We are still without our regular computer. I'm "borrowing" my husband's work laptop -- having located the installation disk with my camera software on it just in time for birthday photos on Thursday! I have no idea if the photos look bad or not, though. The color on the teeny, tiny laptop screen is awful, and depending on the angle, everything looks either really dark or really bright. So, hopefully they're OK from where you sit.}

Six Years Old!

              When I was One,
              I had just begun.

              When I was Two,
              I was nearly new.

              When I was Three,
              I was hardly Me.

              When I was Four,
              I was not much more.

              When I was Five,
              I was just alive.

But now I am Six, I'm as clever as clever.
So I think I'll be six now for ever and ever.

-from Now We are Six by A. A. Milne

{A final note to add that this is my favorite poem of all time.}

Two years old!

My baby is two today.

I think, for me, anyway, that these days always sneak up and take us by surprise. We knew his birthday was coming, definitely. Despite getting a little bit behind, and having colds all weekend, we had gifts prepared for him, including handmade gifts from Mama and from Elisabeth. And I've been thinking about the fact that he's been with us for two whole years now quite a bit lately. He's actually been saying he's two for a couple of months now.

But, I still find that the real significance of the birthday is just not that apparent until the day actually arrives. Not until the birthday child awakens. Sometimes they know that it's their birthday right away, and sometimes they have to be reminded.

And then, there are the Birthday Traditions. The candles in the ring to be blown out, a crown to be worn all day (except he doesn't like to wear it, but that's OK, too), the birthday poem to be said, the gifts to be opened right after breakfast.

So, now I'm looking at my little one, in all his striking "two-ness." When did he become so capable? Where did all these certainties and opinions come from? When did he start playing like such a big kid with his sister?

He's full of joy, this one. Full of laughter, and jokes, and music. I have never known anyone who could make me so happy just by his presence. He can drive me completely crazy, making mischief, but then he'll just make me laugh and forget the whole thing.

Happy birthday, little one. I love you just as you are today. And I am so excited to see what you'll become over this next year.

Final bit o' green

It was my intention to add one last submission for Green Week on Friday, but we had a long and busy day, followed by me, and then James, being hit with the worst cold I may have ever had. The entire weekend was spent in bed, resting, nursing, and watching two movies multiple times (this one three times, this one just twice). An aside to you P&P fans -- I'm beginning to fear that I might be Mrs Bennet. I had to get my husband to drag the television and DVD player into our bedroom (for the first time in 6 years!) since we don't normally have one in there. I also resorted to fever reducers, which I (at least theoretically) try to avoid in all but the most dire of circumstances. So you can see that we've been quite sick.

We're a little bit better today, which is good, because there's a big birthday on Wednesday and gifts still remain to be made. I have been finding myself thinking a lot, in these past few days of laying in bed, of that snowy Sunday morning two years ago when this little boy (taken on his first birthday) joined our lives, and the days following his birth when he and I lay in my bed, looked out the window, nursed, and fell in love.

As a synesthete, I have strong and very concrete color associations for letters, numbers, months, days of the week, and people in my life. James was and is green to me, so I think that having a week of Green up to his birthday was so very fitting, although I felt that my green submissions were less inspired than I would have hoped. It was my "first week", though, so I'll cut myself a bit of slack. I think part of my lack of inspiration was that I was not really in the same place (geographically, seasonally, etc.) as many of the others playing -- as Emily described in her final green post, she wanted to honor the end of the last long month of winter (February) and the beginning of spring. Of course, where I live (at a very high altitude), spring hits in mid-April, and March is actually the last month of winter. So in about one month, I should be ready for a full-on green week, I think. ;)

So, about my two greens shared today -- James's Sigg water bottle, which is green, for James, and also "green", for the environment. Reducing consumption, waste, and the use of plastics are very important to me. Maybe not in that order. Use of plastics might be number one for me. There is something about plastic that makes me cringe a little bit. But that's another post altogether. The other green in this post -- we've had a few great family play nights recently. I've been thinking so very much about the importance of play in our lives and the lives of our children, what its rightful place ought to be, and so on. I'm working a post up on those thoughts. But I thought I'd share this photo now with its greens.

OK, back to bed for me now. I don't expect to post tomorrow, as I need to save all energy for getting well and making birthday gifts, but I do expect to post in honor of my big boy's second birthday on Wednesday. See you then, dear friends!