Setting aside the storm from two weeks ago, this winter has been kind to us. Yet it's the first week of February and I can't seem to stop scrolling through gardening websites. What is it about this season that always gets me looking towards the next? Maybe it's the monochromatic palette, or the short days, or the seemingly lack of sound outside. The other day on our walk to school we passed a holly bush full of small birds. They were making a racket, and their chatter was such a welcome interruption. "What are they saying?" Cecile asked. Good morning, I said. To which, she replied, "You're right, Mommy."
Speaking of chatter, Cecile never stops. If it's not a question ("Why?" usually), it's a declarative sentence. One of my favorites as of late: "Brown is such a beautiful color," she said over a pile of crayons the other day. Girlfriend may rock pink sparkle sneakers at school and does ballet in our kitchen most nights, but she hasn't totally adopted the all-pink, all-princess, all-the-time toddler girl lifestyle. I love that about her.
Genevieve can't stay away from the berries these days. Blueberries, raspberries, blackberries, strawberries: She does not discriminate. She smashes them between her fingers, rubbing their pulp all over her face. Some even manage to make themselves into her mouth, where her two bottom teeth finish the job. It's baby-led weaning at it's finest.