Last Saturday I woke up to an alarm, rolled out of bed, brewed a quick cup of coffee and headed on the road in my pajamas. I made it home in time to unpack slightly, shower, get dressed, survive a tantrum about socks and get back in the car to head down for a snow day in a park near Grandma and Grandpa. I could barely keep my eyes open or my legs upright, but I remembered to keep the camera and managed to capture this joy on our toddler’s face as she experienced imported snow while the Northwest survived a blizzard.
One night last fall I was lying in bed, stricken by feelings of inadequacy, grieving my own lack of success. I’d spent adulthood eschewing the traditional trajectory, and on this particular evening I longed for a quantifiable measure of accomplishment. My days are entrenched in the work of raising a child and growing our small family business, endeavors that require years to adequately determine the fruits of your effort. This compounded by our bodies’ continued inability to garner a positive pregnancy test. I’d relinquished the vision of an extended gestation. At that point I simply wanted one round of urine with elevated hormones of a particular kind.
“I just need a win,” I told Ben.
And then with earnestness offered me this, “Maybe you should get that chicken coop.”
I laughed and started to cry. It was the best wrong answer I’ve ever received.
I managed to convince the crew to do another year of family costume, and I got photo proof again! (HUGE thanks to my sister for that one)
Our family “Cat in the Hat” costume was a hodge-podge of Amazon finds, digging through the bottom of our closet and trips to the craft store. I haven’t tallied the final investment, but I think it hovers just above $100. Not too shabby considering the only sewing I was brave enough to embark on was hand-stitching the patch to the back of our footed pajamas. A previously reluctant member of our party even got into it enough to recommend accessories. I mean, I am the one that actually made them, but I appreciate his attention to detail. Part of me wants to keep mining this for as long as they’ll let me, and the other half is thinking next year I’ll let our little put something together from her growing dress-up basket. It is so fun dressing up together though…