After a busy few days, it was so nice to spend the whole day at home together. The rhythms of home are so calming, and they restore a sense of balance and joy that is simply undeniable.
Charlie often tells us that Sunday is his favorite day, "because Sunday is pancake day!"
Today, we mixed that up a bit and had waffles- but no one complained!
On Sunday mornings, after breakfast, the boys can be heard running and screaming, "Yay! It's time to go to the dump!" They usually go in their pajamas. And rain boots. The whole thing is comical. They don't get out of the car. They just sit there the entire time. But they love their special, "boys only," thing to do with Daddy each week.
When the boys got home, Martin took all three children upstairs to play while I got some chores done. When I asked them if they wanted a snack, Charlie said, "I have a great surprise." He came downstairs with me and got right to work. My job was to make the popcorn.
Apparently, we had these bags sitting in the drawer, left over from a party. When everyone came downstairs, Charlie started calling out, "Popcorn! Popcorn for sale!"
In the early afternoon we bundled up and headed outside to tap the rest of our maple trees. All of our taps are set and we are so eager for temperatures to start poking above freezing during the day.
Charlie and Martin spent a few hours sledding while Matthew and Abbie napped.
When Match woke up, we bundled up and took a walk, just the two of us. I often lose sight of how sweet the stage Match is at can be. Then, we have a 15 minute walk during which we sing, "You Are My Sunshine" and "Itsy-Bitsy Spider," twenty nine and a half times.
On the way home, holding hands, he tells me, "I love you mommy. And, mommy loves Matthew."
My heart melts.
"Yes, Matthew. Mommy loves you."
We rounded out the day with an early supper and some nice wet-on-wet watercolor painting followed by some painting with leftover acrylic paints. It became a super fun mess of "splashing" on the paint.
"March nodded to Winter, “Goodbye! Goodbye!
Off to your home in the North you must hide.
Oh, have you forgotten, under the snow
The wee seeds are waiting — yes, waiting to grow?
“They are Spring’s little babies, and soon she’ll be here,
Whispering her welcome to each baby dear;
So I’ll tidy the earth; I’ll sweep and I’ll blow,
Getting it cleared for the flowers to grow!”"
