Rowan's finally at the age where the holidays really start to get fun. He's starstruck by Santa rather than terrified like last year and he has very specific gift requests so "Santa" is sure to hit a homerun this year. Granted, he has less patience for cookie-baking and it's a little harder to keep track of at the tree farm, but I'll never know exactly what the tree will look like from day to day (he's moved every single ornament within his reach at least three times in the week since we put it up!).
This weekend is our big Yule feast and it looks like its going to be a snowy one. Our first big storm hit today although I didn't have a chance to take any photos. Since getting our family dog, Elvis, it's a little much to juggle Rowan, dog-on-leash and a camera when we head outside. Not to mention the layers of clothing and other keeping-warm items. I've taken to bribing Rowan with hot cocoa and the dog with liver treats to get them back in the house after a long walk-about and play in the yard.
Speaking of bribing, Rowan locked me out of the house the other day. There I am, on the front porch in my socks and short-sleeves, covered in flour from bread-baking telling the neighbor where to find the old dresser we're passing on when I hear the "click" of our deadbolt behind me. When I peek in the front window, I'm met with an impish grin.
"Open the door for mama, honey!" I plead. "No, go away!" he giggled. The backdoor? I, of course, locked it behind me after bringing the dog in last. How thoughtful of me. How did I finally get in the house, you ask? I promised him gummy bears. That did the trick.
Let this be a lesson to all mamas: Keep a house key in your pocket (along with a tissue, a wipey, a diaper, a crayon, some lavendar oil and a scrap of paper) at all times.