the roll

alasdair wasn't too stoked on my report that he hadn't yet rolled from belly to back, so he did.
four times. and continues to do so. 10.31.07. mark it. a milestone.

it's halloween

i hang my head as our celebratory week has ended.
it was ben's birthday, our one-year anniversary and my birthday, all in a week's time.
but now, sadly sighing, i have nothing left to celebrate aside from my beautiful life, my loving men, my tasty pancake breakfasts, morley oh boy, the fact that mama is coming to visit soon---then shortly thereafter, miss jeri + jason + david + kids .....
ok.
so, to be honest, the celebrations in this household never end.
i caught alasdair looking ever so dapper, as he often does, in his overalls the other day. see here:

gosh. he's suddenly 4 months old. i think he's teething, which makes life rather unpleasant in the evening --- poor guy. he's taken to rolling from his back to his stomach, skipping over the belly to back bit.
he likes to mix it up i suppose.
AR (auntie rye) came down to visit. sweet sweet rye. she treated me to a spa day for my birthday. geeze. generosity at it's finest. the major change: hair. i've needed a drastic change. the boy was pulling out handfulls of hair each day.
anyway, i decided to go cleo. kind of.
what the?
no, it's not a wig.
yes, just in time for halloween.
today we will go down to main street in park city in hopes of seeing some cute kids dressed for the occasion. we hear it's a good time at least.
well, that's our update, for now.

happy birthday to papa.

today is ben's birthday. it was a happy day. tasty breakfast, some new (and much needed) polarized shades, lunch at the pub in park city, a short snowmobile ride (to post signs)--and now it's down to pizza and cake. ah, yes. celebration.

alasdair was talking, talking to his sun.
then decided to speak ever so sweetly into its, um, arm---
and fell asleep.


i went dark(er).
papa went cool(er).


one of my very best friends came to visit last weekend, breck. she and her daughter, brynn, spent friday and saturday night with us. we reminisced of logan days, coffeeshop-working-days. now mothers. how wild.
brynn is 16 months. i joke about their wedding day. ah---just look how mesmerized he is.
loving a lady already.

good times.

alas, dair to be with the ladies

the resolution/quality is super low because i had to compress it so much.
you certainly can still hear his sweet coos and laughs though.
taken at my mamas, featuring honey, birdie (aunt dana), etta (cousin) and ar (auntie rye). ah, and himself.

snornges, and sleep

excellent. this is how one drives in utah.
this morning we moved the subaru down the hill (in case--we're not too sure what we're in for), then loaded up in the flat-bed truck to get back. snowmobiles will be ready for pick-up tomorrow. there are already tracks around the area---
trespasser's tracks.








alasdair and the orange.
"come on mom, just one bite?"
mean mama says no.




my favorite photo to date, possibly.
alasdair, papa and i spent an hour trying to move the gator + gator trailer down to the lodge. it took pushing, reversing, flooring, and more. alasdair fell asleep in his ergo right away and slept for about an hour and a half. we were 3/4 the way successful in our attempt to get the gator down to the lodge. it sits in the snow nearby.
alasdair slept through the noise. through me shoveling, vigorously. through walks and snow throwing at morley. he slept through it all, and continued to sleep when i took off the ergo and laid him on the bed.
sweet thing.



we had a good first snow day.

coming home

The snow is coming. We woke this morning with a few inches. It's not supposed to stop until Friday, if then. We're settling into more of a routine--a routine that contradicts the nature of schedules, really. A routine that allows for flexibility, morning fires and playtime anytime of the day.
Ah, Ben just notified me with a weather update: snow until Sunday, with Friday being a chance of rain.
Alasdair and I went to Boise last week for a visit. Drove the car in hopes that mama can sell it. Flew home. Alasdair's first flight, and a fierce flyer he was. No crying. Lots of nursing. A little bit of play. Good man.
I left Boise feeling happy to be where we are now. I miss my family, I miss what friends I have---but this place, this isolated existence, is pretty heavenly. And, for once, I am in a place that feels like home.

videos worth viewing

I made a pretty fantastic discovery today: yo gabba gabba, a show for people.

A particularly good one.

A particularly mellow one.

A particularly trippy one.

toys

word is, children love to bounce. alasdair lives for it. so, we took a trip to the big city the other day and made an investment: we bought the boy a rainforest jumperoo.
sweet thing. maybe a bit small for it yet.

there it was bare.
now, check it out all set up.

good times. to be had. we hope.
now for the real good stuff: mama and papa's toy ... a new bb gun.
late nights, early mornings, mid afternoons.
every time is a good time for sitting on the porch, shooting at cans. we enjoyed such a snowy night---target practice.

we thought it was funny.

and now...
the boy in his newest onesie (thank you tyler).
sweet little man.

tradition

I want to start traditions and set goals and envision all of this coming to fruition within the year.
Thing is, I don't think traditions are necessarily discussed, or scheduled. Traditions become weekly, monthly, annual events because our lives fall into a place that welcomes good memories, paving way to build upon what we've already established.
Maybe I can't 'start' traditions after all. Bummer. See--thinking about it too much gets in the way. Were I to just do 'it,' 'it' would be done and may--if duly enjoyed--become tradition.
I talk about things too much, even if only in my head.
I think: I want to start a tradition. hmmm...tradition? What to do? We could mark the first day of each month and make sure we have a picnic lunch. maybe we should designate each october 2 as a day of rest, no chores--we play and rest today. maybe i could go outside and pick out a rock and dub it as 'special'---just because, and we could establish a tradition of picking out rocks to be dubbed as such.
no. traditions, or even 'special' rocks, don't come that easy. they create themselves and cannot be birthed outside of their own development. and in order for them to develop, one must be doing and observing, and most of all--enjoying. everything.
eventually something spectacular will have developed enough to be born and forever attached to our ways of living.
and that birthed beauty will become tradition.
ok, then.