Yule-tidings

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.

Playing Catch-up

Tomorrow is Rowan's third Thanksgiving and it's about time I catch up with my three or four readers here. Since the Mmmm Mama blog has been languishing for the last two months, we've been enjoying every spare autumn moment. So much so that we never finished cleaning out our garden nor got our garlic in the ground for next year. And I certainly won't bore you with how messy the house looks. Oh well. What are the holidays for if not cleaning?

We're going to make a trip to Ritter's Cider Mill with Meme and Grampy an annual event from now on. In fact, we were going to have Rowan's birthday party there, but figured we'd save it until he's a little older and can invite a few of his friends to go with him.

Mmmm....picking apples!

There is nothing like fresh-squeezed, unpasturized apple cider from Ritter's.

Meme taught Rowan the real meaning of HAYrides and Grampy "benefited" from the lesson!

Is there anything we wouldn't do for our litle ones? From left to right, that's Meme, Grampy and Mama. Papa is taking the picture. You can't see if face, but Rowan was laughing hysterically! Totally worth it!

And then is was time for All Hallow's Eve. The carving of the gourd was a teeny bit more controlled this year as compared to last, but unique none-the-less.

Whoa Daddy, what is that stuff?!

Rowan knighted our pumpkin "Aberdeen" this year. We don't know why.

Since Rowan already considered himself a pirate, we thought we'd simply bring the delusion to life and dress him as the Dread Pirate Rowan for trick-or-treating. He looks somber here, but he had a ball raiding the neighbors' houses for candy.

Until next time....I'll try not to stay away so long.

Snuggily Two's

I don't know much about the Terrible Two's, but I know a ton about the Snuggily Two's. Papa and I are drinking in as much of this as possible while it lasts. We both know it won't be long until our hugs and kisses will embarrass the poor boy. Until then....snuggle on!

I have to admit, these pictures are from earlier in October. I've been out of the loop a bit with my blog working like a mad woman on a huge fundraising event in NYC for the Rodale Institute (the non-profit for which I slave). The event was titled "Ripe for Revolution," but I'm feeling overripe these days. Squishy, soggy and covered in fruit flies! It is only the smile of a certain little bear that makes my heart soar and my supermama powers get all zingy and electrified. Really...how could anyone resist....

Here he is as "Incredi-Boy" in the park.

I'm afraid my lovely little son is addicted to "MOVIES!" (in caps to represent how loudly he requests one). With his personality and charisma, I wouldn't be surprised if he ended up as a movie star himself....or a producer. Who knows. Until then, he's going to have to deal with the TV(and movie)-time limits the mama and the papa (well, mostly the mama) impose. Although, it really is hard to resist those big blue eyes.

Two today

Happy Birthday my darling little bear.....

Putting up

I've been meaning to get this particular entry up for weeks now. We've picked, preserved, stewed, frozen and pickled some more over the last month. We're very far from ever putting up enough to tide us over until spring, but there is something comforting about having so much garden goodness glistening in jars and bags. There is something about the ritual that brings the summer to a sweet close and welcomes the fall in all it's warm (inside) and spicy crispness (outside).

Dad Evan's dill pickle recipe.

Elderberry currant apple preserves.
(I've missed the annual jelly-making activities at my mother's house the last few years. This year, she brought the whole process to mine. Berries picked by my father, juiced by my mother, and preserved by me.)

Tomatoes, garlic, leeks, basil, rosemary, and oregano
just waiting to be turned into sauce and jarred up.

This truly is my favorite time of year. The month of our marriage...the month of our first born. Today, in fact, is our anniversary and next week is the litte bear's second birthday. So much seems to begin in October, I can't help but celebrate. Autumn blessings to you all!

Treasure

So Rowan thinks he's a pirate. I'm not sure where the obsession originated, but we've managed to unintentionally encourage it. Okay, so it's been somewhat intentional. It's just incredibly adorable to hear him say, "Yo, ho, ho and a bottle of juice!" Or tell the old ladies in the gift shop down the shore to "Walk the plank!"

As a result, he's been searching high and low for "pirate booty" (his exact words--where does he get this stuff?). You never know what might be considered treasure these days. Some of his favorites include an egg-like stone, a collection of snail shells and a bluejay feather. The bluejay feather was his first gift from the sky. Found on a quiet walk through the woods with mama a few weeks ago. Papa has a talent for attracting feather gifts as well, so I'm not surprised my eagle-eyed son has begun to express the same.

I also suspect one of the new earings my mother gave me may have been pirated, but I have yet to discover where it's been buried.

Seaside, book II

Despite Rowan's beach bum temperament, Mama's delicate skin and aversion to sunburn and sweat meant many hours spent enjoying each other's company away from the sand and sea. In fact, we all found a lovely bit of solace tucked under the dappled shade and hidden in the damp mossy crevises of Brookgreen Gardens.

When what should we hear as we come out from under a canopy of old oaks but Rowan's excited voice saying, "Look. Giant ba-ba's!"

And, of course, there were rides. Papa might be highly allergic to the teacups, but they were by-far Rowan's favorites.