tea for one

I'm missing my love. Distances seem especially far now that I'm a parent; Bangladesh is unbelievably far-off from the baby and I in our little winter cabin. Since having Ari I feel especially aware of the threads that bind us all together and how fragile they are, how fragile all of this world is, these lives and loves that we cherish and hold on to. Sometimes it seems a wild, crazy risk to love the way we do. And yet, what else is there?

I can imagine him there, (assuming similarity to India, and remembering that one night I stayed there en-route from Delhi to Bangkok,) the heat and thick city air, the smells of incense and garbage and spices, the colours and sounds in the markets and on the streets- saris and bangle shops, flower stalls and blaring Bollywood music, street children tugging on your sleeves, the shock of so many bodies in one place after the luxury of all the space we are used to.

I know he is being treated like royalty by our sister-in-law's family, eating well, getting shuttled around by a car and driver, feasting and celebrating in family's homes. I wish I was there in many ways, I'm missing the excitement and the joy of experiencing things together, seeing another backdrop behind that sweet face that is so often beside my own. But the worrying mother in me is glad to be here with the babe. Ari has just a simple cold and that feels like enough to deal with right now. I can imagine how little I would be able to relax and enjoy the experience with heat and bug bites and new food and water and jet lag to worry about. It's worth a couple weeks of drinking tea alone and gobbling up e-mails from my love across the seas.

winter walk

Walking with Ari on a lovely frosty day. Sunny days like this lighten the heart.

















On the way back we found this on the driveway.













Lucky thing we were walking back the same way we came. Lucky too that the babe had socks under these wooly boots.

christmas eve block towers

Ari was entertained by his Uncles building him block towers on Christmas Eve.





wondering if he really should knock down this giant structure.




















And over it goes!

oh christmas tree

This is the best we'll be doing for a tree this year - a thrift store wooden candle holder that I got for $1.50. Decorating isn't high on the priority list with Ari not being remotely phased yet and Perry heading off across the globe on Christmas day. He is flying to Dhaka to his brother's wedding reception and we decided when I was still pregnant that it wouldn't be practical to take the babe on such a sojourn. Our minds were made up when we saw the list of immunizations we would have had to start giving him at 2 months old. It made me realize that the trip would not be for him at all, and that it would be selfish to drag him along. I am dreading Perry's absence, or rather, pretending he is not actually going at all. I even manage to fool myself sometimes- today I asked him what he wanted to do for New Years and he had to gently remind me that he would be touring the tea estates in Bangladesh. Humph. It's going to be a long two weeks.

In the meantime we are planning some good family visits and activities that might keep me distracted enough to continue forgetting that Ari and I will be alone soon. And I think Perry is missing the little chestnut already. He has been snuggling him even more than usual and spent the evening playing with him (dance parties are a sure-fire hit around here) and videotaping the giggles. We'll just celebrate the holidays together until the plane takes off.

freezer paper stencilin'

Having lots of fun with this project (thanks to crafty wonders like soulemama.) I tried out a few on Ari's old shirts and now wish I'd used some nicer non-stained ones since I like them so much.

I'm not too excited about the one I made my sister though. I am fairly happy with the design- it references the fabric she chose for her headband (yet to be sewn... the holiday craft crunch is upon me...) and I spent a bunch of time getting the flowers how I wanted them and I think they suit her. But the fabric paint- the only fabric paint I could find in town- is so shiny. I should have just stuck with plain white. It's sort of 80's glam, or worse, cheap carnivalesque- it needs some feather hair clips and a pair of cowboy boots, which is certainly not her look. darn. At least my sister is a generous spirit and will appreciate the effort even if it never makes it out of her drawer.

showshoes!

They have been waiting in the back room for the cold snap to pass and for us to get out on a family adventure. Bright red metal and the black of our winter boots, baby smiling in the backpack, sun sparkling on the snow in the back fields, tromping past the pond and into the forest finding tracks of deer and snowshoe hare, making a good loop trail that I can take on my own with the baby and arriving back home with the sun low, turning the barns and houses into silhouettes against the winter sky.

wrapped up

Ari has been having a hard time winding down in the evenings and has been staying up late most nights. I'm finding it tough to let go of this time- I treasure the quiet baby-free moments, and I use them to make stuff, catch up on the things that pile up and breathe deep. So I've been trying various strategies to get Ari to sleep. Last night I pulled out the wrap which I haven't used for awhile, I've been preffering the sling and the backpack these days. But even though I was surrendering my evening hours, it was lovely to snuggle Ari in close and realize how little time we have left for this front wrapping coziness. We spent so much time like this in the newborn days; how can I get in enough head kisses before he outgrows it? I guess I'll soon be snatching the smootches while he moters about on his own. So I'll put him to sleep like this even if it means surrendering the odd craft project.

{baby, mine}

Sweet baby. My heart is so full up with you. I breathe you in, watch your hands curl and uncurl, knowing that all I can do is love you right now in this moment as completely as my heart is able, even as you grow and change before my very eyes.

I want to hoard it all, the chubby fists, the sleepy rubbing of the eyes, the delighted squeal when we dance with you or fly you around the room, the way you lean back in my arms to look at me and smile. I want none of it to go. And I want to never hold you back from anything you need to grow.

My heart weeps and rejoices. I hold you as you sleep, listening as each small breath enters your lungs and leaves you, changed.