The bottom hem of my pants is wet from a morning skate ski with my good friend. We glided around Pattee Canyon, nothing but us, our rhythmic breathes and gently falling snow. The only witness, a host of stately conifers.
Snow on my mitten. Just in case people still think I photoshopped the snowflake on Ruby’s eye (seriously people). Don’t you have snow like this or is it a Magic Montana thing?
We stopped for coffee and a croissant on our way into town, I dropped her at work and came home to Alice. Just Alice and me. I plopped my pile by the door and loved on her like I used to when I had two available hands.
Margot has been playing with Owen and Max two mornings a week for a while now. It’s when I work and have time with just my Rhubarb. Sometime in November I started to feel like Ruby (and mama) would also benefit from some scheduled kid time. My good friend and Max’s mom felt the same about her one year-old. So, this morning, Ruby and her pal Graden joined the morning play sesh.
It feels weird to be without Ruby. It feels good to be writing and not listening for my baby to wake. It felt amazing to ski and get coffee and come home alone. It feels like an important step for Ruby and me, the little girl who is still most comfortable with her chubby legs wrapped around my left hip, her chubby hand gripping the collar of my shirt, her chubby cheek resting on my shoulder blade. I think I am most comfortable with her there too.
I pick my daughters up in an hour and I can’t wait to see them. Margot will run to me and tell me every detail of disputes, resolutions, books read, food eaten. Ruby will crawl to me with a goofy grin and go straight to that familiar and perfect perch on my hip. We’ll drive slowly around the snowy roads, come home and be home.
And here the Magic Montana Snow lands on our car window.
We are loving home these days. My family has some big events on the horizon. Most immediately, Andy is *close* to finishing his electrical apprenticeship. And oh will we celebrate his accomplishment that has required so much of our family’s attention for over four years. We’re in the home stretch. And, I am discovering we are always in the home stretch of something. I explore this and come to some not-so conclusive conclusions in this week’s mama digs, home stretch.
So, before I fetch my kids, this mama is going to enjoy the hell out of a long, hot, quiet shower.
