the pitter patter of little feet

We've survived the rush of the holidays.

Visiting family in various parts of Missouri. Celebrating three Christmases. Building a bunk bed. Finding spots for the plethora of wonderful gifts that we received. Taking down decorations and hauling the tree to the pond. Cleaning up needles. Cleaning up more needles. Bringing in a new year. Several doctor/midwife appointments.

And at last, I feel like I can breathe for a few days. Until I go back up to stay with the folks while Clay rips up the asbestos flooring in the kitchen this weekend. And I start seriously preparing for the upcoming arrival of our little baby. That adorable little baby that I got to see via ultrasound at the doctor's office today. I can tell you already that it has beautiful big eyes, a little snub nose and tiny fists that it was busily shoving in its mouth. I'm smitten.

Christmas and New Years were both marked by lovely long family hikes around the farm. I miss our weekly weekend hikes that we took in the northwest. That was the one upside to apartment living. (Well, maybe that and the hot tub outside our back door). So it was nice to indulge in some family bonding time in the great outdoors.

Margaret could have played happily by the creek for many hours. She worked hard rescuing several imaginary ladybugs from the puddles.

And William managed to get completely soaked and filthy within the few short minutes that we released him from the safety of the backpack. (This photo is taken before he threw himself into the nearest mud puddle.)


The other night Margaret galloped noisily back and forth between the kitchen and living room and then announced: "I'm making music with my feet!"

Sweet music indeed. I have a new determination to soak up some quality moments with my two munchkins in these last few weeks before munchkin #3 arrives.