together in tarrytown

It was a retreat over four years in the making. On Friday afternoon my friends, Emily, Whitney, Deborah, and I managed to escape the busy routines of motherhood in favor of a girls-only overnight getaway outside of the city. We didn't venture far -- just north of the city in Tarrytown, New York. Whitney, Deborah and I took the commuter train and met Emily, who drove over from New Jersey and picked us up at the train station.

Beginning our adventure at Grand Central Station.

View of the mostly frozen Hudson River from the train.

We checked into our hotel, which was just as historic as the area of the Hudson Valley it is located in, then headed out to dinner.

It was clear as we drove onto the estate that we'd found a winner of a hotel.

The whole purpose of this trip was to relax while we enjoyed each other's company, so we didn't do anything terribly adventurous. But here is a little of what we did do:

- Braved the curiously unheated labyrinthine halls of the hotel in order to soak in the hot tub.

- Stayed up late talking and eating dark chocolate almonds covered in sea salt and turbinado sugar. (Dangerously delicious, those almonds are.)

- Basked in the fact that we wouldn't be awakened during the night or too-early morning hours by our children (even though none of us slept spectacularly well, thanks to a bizarre heating system in the room).

- Ate a late breakfast at a local and apparently beloved diner.

- Crossed the Headless Horseman bridge and wandered the cemetery at the Old Dutch Church in neighboring Sleepy Hollow until we were too cold.

Headless Horseman Bridge (not the original, but lovely just the same).

Frozen.

 The Old Dutch Church.

 Most of these headstones date back 200+ years.

 And this one was in Dutch.

- Found a Starbucks where we could warm up with hot chocolate and continue chatting. (I highly recommend adding toffee nut to your hot chocolate. So tasty.)

- Wrapped up our conversations at the Irvington Public Library, which shared a parking lot with the train station, before we had to part ways and head back home. I scored a treasure on the For Sale cart: an old copy of Baby Island by Carol Ryrie Brink (more famously known for her Newbery award winning novel Caddie Woodlawn, which I loved as a girl). Not only are the illustrations to die for, but so is the plot.            

It was hard to see our escape together end, but it was good, too, to come home. My boys missed me (as I missed them) --- so much that they made sure that I came home to a clean house. (Score!)

These ladies are so lovely, inside and out, and it is such a privilege to know them, let alone count them among my dearest friends.

'Til next time! (Because, so help me, there WILL be a next time.)

nine months

Dear Daniel,

Three-fourths of the way through your first year. Out for as long as you were in. Nine. Months. Old.

No matter how you say it, it all boils down to the same thing -- you are growing up too, too fast. Lately you've seemed more little boy than baby, and while it is adorable, it makes me kind of wistful.

For starters, you are EVERYWHERE. Nothing is safe anymore, and more often than not, you are a danger to yourself. Crawling, often into such problematically small spaces as underneath chairs, and pulling yourself up to a stand wherever you can get a good grip, this exploration has led to a lot of painful bumps, falls, and rolls, but you seem to be coming out stronger and smarter in spite of it. It is only a matter of moments before you are cruising along the furniture and ultimately letting go of your safety hold altogether.

Some major milestones you reached this month include getting your first haircut (you hated it!); clapping (whenever you're happy and right on cue when someone says "yay!"); the cutting of your first top tooth (and judging by the apparent pain you've been in lately, its neighbor will be moving in soon); and feeding yourself soft finger foods (which has made mealtimes easier, albeit also messier, for me, and more fun for you).

You still have a hard time settling down to sleep, which has continued to make daily naps extremely difficult and occasionally non-existent. Your new-found vertical mobility has not helped matters, and neither has your recent distaste for binkies. You (I?) desperately need something to help you soothe yourself, and stat.

You are generally a happy, and always a very curious, baby. I think this whole growing up business suits you well.

I love you, sweet Danny Boy!

Love,
Mama

get up, stand up

A few weeks ago, I walked into the bedroom to find that Daniel had discovered how to pull himself up to a stand. He was so, so proud of himself. And while I couldn't help but grin along with him, I braced myself for the new phase of mobility that we now found ourselves in and all that it would entail (including, but certainly not limited to, the need to lower that now-too-high crib mattress).

Since that day, he has taken every opportunity to practice his new skill. It's been a frustrating, painful process, but he's getting stronger and steadier in his attempts to get himself down as well as up. In short, nothing is safe anymore. This morning I documented every time he pulled himself to a stand. The results were not only enlightening (it's not just my imagination that he can get himself just about everywhere!) as well as hilarious (OMG -- the crib!)

 The toys, for starters, are now his for the taking.

 Don't mind if I do.

 How did I get up here again?

 Get me down!!

But wait! I see something shiny!

 LET

 ME

OUT!!!

 I'm over here now...

 But I really wonder what's going on over there.

Do you think Matthew would mind if I get into his stuff? 

(Yes, yes he definitely would mind, so keep your dangerous little paws off, thankyouverymuch.)

But when you sit between me and Matthew, Mom, I can't get to his stuff. 

(Exactly.)

But while I'm here, could I have more Cheerios?

Please? I'll be extra cute.

And the possibilities just got a little more endless.

Watch out, world. It's only a matter of moments before he's cruising along the furniture. And then, brave boy that he is, he'll be letting go to join his big brothers. His babyhood is creeping closer and closer to an end. (*sniff*)

the blizzard that wasn't

Our area spent the weekend getting worked up about a potentially epic and absolutely crippling blizzard that was heading our way. On Monday afternoon it was announced that the NYC public schools would be closed on Tuesday -- a move with unprecedented advanced notice (we are usually informed of school closings the morning of) which led one to believe that we really were in for a doozy. All public transportation shut down, and the roads were kept open only to emergency vehicles. The city went to bed on Monday night prepared to wake up to upwards of three feet of snow.

But during the night the storm shifted a mere 50 miles to the east, sparing the city from all but about 6 inches of accumulation. The blizzard warning was lifted 18 hours ahead of schedule. We were in the clear. (Our neighbors on Long Island to the east and Connecticut to the north, however, were not so lucky and received the predicted 24+ inches of deep and drifted snow.)

The boys still had the snow day, and Blake's office was still closed for the weather, and since the subway was only slowly restarting again, he wouldn't have been able to get into Manhattan anyway, so we hunkered down for a pleasant play-in-the-snow-and-bake-cookies kind of day.

We started the day exactly as we should have: by not getting up early and making pumpkin muffins for breakfast while the snow continued to swirl around outside.

Just because the blizzard was not nearly as severe as expected didn't mean we came away with nothing. I took the boys outside and they enjoyed romping around in it until they got too cold to cope.

 Daniel "the slug" loved being pulled around on the sled.

He didn't even mind sharing the space with Matthew.

Sleigh ride!

Garrett wanted to "sled like a penguin." He was unsuccessful...probably because he's not a penguin.

Matthew was the first to protest against the cold. Soon after this I took him back inside as he wailed hysterically.

Caleb, the king of the snowplowed mountain.

Garrett attempting to oust him.

 Mini sled hill.

Blake took a quick break from work to walk the two bigger boys down to the playground where they found a small sledding hill. They didn't last long, though, as soon Caleb was in tears because he was too cold. And you would be, too, if there was as much snow in your boots as we found in his once he came inside. He and Garrett decided to warm up under as many blankets as they could gather.

Meanwhile, the little boys "played nicely" together with blocks in the living room:

The infant human eyes its prey, then moves in for the kill. His older brother's block building doesn't stand a chance against the cheetah-like instincts of the motivated crawler.

While Matthew and Daniel napped in the afternoon, I did a little snow science with a very eager Garrett and Caleb. Garrett went out to collect the cleanest snow he could find, and then we observed it using each of our five senses. We also performed a few experiments -- tested to see what would happen to a cup of snow kept in the freezer, the fridge, and on the counter, as well as what happened when we poured both cold and boiling water over the snow.

By the end of the day, I was kaput. (Days with everyone at home have a tendency to do that to me.) I needed a little space and quiet, so I sent the boys to play in their room and, after I straightened up the living room to create at least a semblance of order, I arranged blocks for another quilt I've been working on.

I've never done pinwheels before, but I think I'm a fan. I especially like that this pattern, which only called for a "layer cake" of pre-cut fabric, does not require too much thought.

Everyone is back to school and work today, which, as nice as the free day off was, is a relief. Maybe now I can actually get that quilt top sewn together or finish reading the latest Flavia de Luce novel. At least, that is, for the next hour until it's time to wake up the sleeping babies and shove the stroller through the snow and slush to after school pick up. It's the life, I tell you.

attic stairs quilt

Yesterday I finished my attic stairs quilt. This one has been in the works for a very long time, but I finally pushed through to get it put together.

I've been wanting to teach myself how, so I hand quilted this one. Nothing fancy -- just rows of cross-stitch-like Xs. I don't own (or have room for) a quilting frame, but I'd read about a few quilters who actually preferred to just do it in their laps, pulling tightly at the fabric as they went. That method worked great for me; I actually found it incredibly soothing and often found myself excuses (i.e. Netflix series) to get comfortable on the couch and work on it. For a first quilt, I'm quite pleased at my efforts. I especially like how the back of the quilt looks, all covered in diamond criss-crosses.

I had so many scraps and sewed together so many blocks that I actually have another quilt top just like this one just waiting to be sandwiched and stitched together. I'll get to that one eventually (I ran out of backing fabric working on this one, so I'll need to pick up some more), but I have a few other projects in the line up that I'd like to tackle first -- one of which is a new quilt for our bed. The one we're currently using is worn and threadbare, and I think I'm finally ready to tackle a larger sized quilt for the first time. For my Christmas gift from him, Blake let me pick out the fabric for it. I'm brimming with nervous excitement to get started.

But until then, I'm sure going to enjoy snuggling up under this one.

eight months

Dear Daniel,

It breaks my heart that you are celebrating eight months sick with both an ear infection and bronchiolitis. Between your phlegmy, congested breathing, the dreaded nebulizer treatments, and sad whimpers of pain and discomfort, it amazes me that you are still able to find it in you to smile and play and explore. I think it demonstrates a lot about your ability to persevere and find the good in less than ideal circumstances. My own silver lining in this is that your illness has seemed to remind you how to sleep like a normal baby.

In the last few weeks you've made very clear your disinterest in sleep. Your insistent refusal to nap has been frustrating, and not just for me, but you, too, when you grow obviously very tired but still won't settle down to sleep. I consider it a good day now when I can get one decent nap out of you.

I can't figure our why you're so apparently unable to wear yourself out enough to sleep more because you have lately evolved into an avid explorer. You've nearly abandoned your "butterfly stroke" scoot in favor of a real crawl on all fours. And you go everywhere and sometimes surprise me by what you manage to get into. Our house was once deemed incredibly well Matthew proofed, but it is apparently far from being Daniel proof. You are attracted most to the electrical cords we thought were well hidden underneath furniture and the radiators, particularly the kitchen radiator pole. (Yikes!!) Our current best line of defense, aside from trying to better hide the cords and using makeshift blockades against the exposed radiators, is to keep you in a sitting position. For as much as you love to explore and climb -- yes, you're starting to climb, heaven help us all -- you are still unable to move out of a sit and into a crawling position and vise versa, though I don't think this is an option we'll be able to rely on for much longer.

In other areas of development, you've started babbling to communicate and clicking your tongue to show off. At the table you're beginning to move on to basic finger foods -- crackers, cereal, and the like -- which you are loving. And when you tilt your head to better catch my eye and grin as you gaze at me with your striking dark brown eyes, I absolutely melt. I love you, sweet Danny Boy.

Love,
Mama