I’ve spent the last few months trying to live more in the present, to take more photographs (semi successful); to try to cherish those exhausted minutes between dinner and bedtime when Jason is playing Les Paul tunes from his iPhone while he bathes Ama, and I rush to pack the daycare bag for tomorrow and finish up dishes, so we can settle in for our evening nursing session before bed; to realize that this stage of semi-small will be as fleeting as the days when she was so-small. But it’s hard. We both work full time, and I spend about two hours a day with Ama in the car commuting; work isn’t always as fulfilling as I’d like; and, God knows, some nights my tentative grasp on patience and sanity feel like they’re just about to slip through my fingers, particularly when the bedtime meltdowns occasionally visit us.
But we’re so lucky. We’re healthy and happy. We have a roof over our heads and plenty of heat during this very cold winter, and spring will eventually come. I find myself saying that a lot lately, as I glance out over the bleakest of February horizons. As a family, we’ve planned a little day trip this weekend (if the weather cooperates) to drive north to visit a fabric store, so I can start working on Ama’s Easter basket project — a bushel of felt fruit because she’s starting to get interested in the kitchen (feel free to pop over to my Pinterest site to take a look at some inspiration). We’re hoping to build her a kitchen set this spring — something solid and sustainable that will add to our home, rather than just being another chunk of plastic.
We’re doing a low-key Valentine’s Day this year. A late dinner in after Amelia goes to bed with Champagne (TTC round two starts next month…) and a movie. I bought Jason a book he doesn’t know he’s been wanting yet, and we picked up a stuffed Jelly Cat for Amelia, as well as a Carl book. 
I should admit that she already found her Jelly Cat when it arrived and I left the box on the floor, opened. I went to tuck our bags away and heard her meowing, only to turn around and find her half-way up to her chest in the box. She’s slept with him every night this week, and he’s the perfect little nighttime companion – soft and cuddly, but not so large that we worry about him in her crib. When I asked her what she wanted to call him, her response was “Meow Meeeow!”, so we’re tentatively calling him Mr. Meow, and she appears very excited about that.
I hope you have a lovely Valentine’s Day with those you care about!
Rural Homework 