Two nights ago our little cottage was squeezed through the wardrobe and into Narnia. I feel like we’re staying with Mr. and Mrs. Beaver! Or like we rented a chalet or something. The last few days have been a magical dream come true. When I was little my parents used to rent out a tiny A frame inn on Silver Star Mountain so we could ski for a weekend. The memories of sleeping in the loft, and making tunnels in the snow drifts, and perching in knee socks by the bay window are all coming back!
Finn and Beau just went skiing right out our front door just like we would do at the inn. This morning the boys and I ventured out into the snow in search for pine cones. We made a bird feeder chandelier of sorts with peanut butter, cornmeal, oats and quinoa. The boys love anything really messy.
Finn was so excited he ran and got his hipster bird shirt on.
When we were finished Oliver was the absolute sweetest. He sat with me patiently waiting for birds to come for about an hour. And then whenever a little finch fluttered past he would loudly squeak, “der is!” (There it is!) so that they would be scared off in a scurry. We got some chickadees and a robin interested but in the end they were all deterred. Perhaps they don’t like quinoa, oats, and peanutbutter, though? Not that they even got a chance to try it!
Yesterday I made strawberry coconut milkshakes for breakfast and we spent the morning watching Chip and Dale and Donald Duck shorts on You Tube. The boys were full of boundless rough and tumble cooped up energy so During Oliver’s nap I went out with Finn and made him an ice castle a la Donald Duck’s nephews. Yes…9 months pregnant. All for the love of my Huckleberry boy!
Later we went to my parents’ and the entire neighborhood was out sledding and roasting hot dogs. Yes…you read that right. Like something out of Dickens! And then the power went out and Finn helped Grandmother light all the candles and Oliver got really scared.
Oh my sweet Oliver. The other day he and I got to spend the whole day alone together while the guys went to the mountain. And I realized very succinctly that in three weeks time these moments will be few and far far between…if ever! For only a breath, he’s still my baby.
I remember when that switch came with Finn: the day he came to meet Oliver in the hospital. Suddenly…I had a boy, not a baby in Finn. I know with Oliver it will be the same. After all…can a baby say, “dona duck! Dat dunny!” (Donald duck, that’s funny!)?
And don’t even get me started on my other one. It’s as if my baby Finn crawled out of my arms and started skiing down the bunny trails.
And he will turn FIVE in three weeks. Why did 5 years go by in the blink of an eye, but 3 weeks till the baby comes seems like forever away? Sigh.
Beauty does weird things to your heart.