Why are men?

Ok, y’all, since the first trimester ultrasound that showed, clearly, Oliver’s Y chromosome, I have known that I, as a woman, would always be in the minority in my family. Percy was a boy (RIP, buddy) and Nutmeg is a giant alpha-marking-everything male. I am repeatedly thankful for graceful Ruthie and her pink collar for giving me a sex-based compatriot in this household. She never makes inappropriate bathroom choices, she is gentle and yet quite the fierce huntress, and she does not mindlessly front-load her food. #Bless

I’ve actually found that I’m quite well-suited to boyish energy and humor, and I feel a profound responsibility for and honor in raising a different kind of man. One who is emotionally sophisticated, in touch with his inner self and endowed with an expansive vocabulary with which to process and express the spectrum of feeling and experience we all have, happy to hug and say “I love you,” and so forth.

I think I’m doing a solid job. The boys are marvelous humans. They are kind, generous, both say “I love you” all the time, have zero desire to “be cool,” are good to talk to, and express a decent variety of distinct emotions. My dearest husband is all of that in spades, minus, possibly, the last two. #Bless.

THAT SAID, jesus christ. Why? Why, what? you might ask. Why the immediate veer towards extreme bachelor living? And why must everything return to phalluses? Have y’all watched Mythic Quest? It’s a TV comedy about video game programming, and one of the key messages is TTP: time to penis. How long in any game, with any resources, will it take for a penis to emerge?

Two days ago, we had our first snow of the season, and it was a real one. A beautiful, multi-inch, yes-you-can-sled-and-need-to-shovel snow.

The kids bundled up, and raced out, and suddenly, interrupted from an “I can read now?” leap, there was a knock on the window and I looked up to this:

how pleased do they look? that is NOT a snowman.

TTP: immediate.

Today, both boys finally at school (no school for either on Monday; Oliver was virtual and Jack was home on Tuesday; today was a 2-hour delay), I walked around the house cleaning. What I saw boggles the mind, and some of this is all husband.

Observe:

why dental pick while bathing? must one really do this?

why is all of this? we have so many towel hooks. also, WTF?

Why? What? Who takes a gallon of milk to his bathroom?

Points for recognizing that yes, you do need toilet paper after the other roll is used up, but A) the used roll does NOT (not pictured) need to be thrown under the vanity, not least because there is a garbage can RIGHT THERE, and B) how can difficult could it possibly be to put the tp package back into the vanity from whence YOU grabbed it, presumably while on the toilet?

Y’all. Why?

Happy New Year?

I mean, y’all. After the past -waves hand around somewhat meaninglessly- years, is it not tempting fate to wish loud and boisterous, full-of-hope Happys regarding 2022?

a hat tip to my mother for sending me this gem

Let it not come to pass

It probably is -I mean, for fucks sake, Betty White died today- but I wish you all the very best anyway.

Today we returned home from West Virginia in time to clean up for New Years Eve at the Kennedy Center. I surprised Tom and the boys with tickets to see John Oliver. We all thought it was terrifically delightful, and we were home by 10. My kind of evening. ;)

I was chagrined to find that even with these heels on:

Jack is taller than me. My god has he grown. It’s remarkable to pause a sec and take in the young man who was once so tiny and dependent but who is now neither, really.

A quick update on the goats, y’all. We found a wonderful vet who came to visit and check them out last Wednesday. We learned a TON about nutrition, how to check for worms and anemia, goat lice, and bovine probiotics. All four goats were vaxxed and had their hooves trimmed, Apple and Jemima had blood drawn for pregnancy tests (we find out for sure early next week; vet thinks they are, in fact, preggers but that if so, they still have another 4-6 weeks or so to go), Lefty was treated for worms and lice as well as given an immune booster (she is still pretty compromised post-listeria), and we changed their feed after learning about male goat susceptibility to stones due to having urethras that are tiny and become increasingly so near the exit. Overall, they looked great, and we’re hoping for two sets of twins! (AND, Lefty has become a real screamer when she sees us. It’s the best.)

Twins may pale in comparison to the unicorn moment we had yesterday morning when instead of butting each other out of the way over one bucket, the angels sang and each goat realized and accepted that each has his/her very own bucket of food, and for just a few moments, all was peaceful in the barn. It’s the little things.

Back in pjs now, I leave you with these gorgeous shots I snapped this week. How lucky we are to have a little slice of paradise. Be well, friends. Keep up the good fight! Mwah!

sunrise

O tannenbaum

Today was the day! Ol was out with friends, Tom was in WV, and Jack was being Grinchy, so I went and picked our tree out by myself. Doing so was so delightful that I gave the teenager who helped me a big tip. The tree is a concolor fir (never heard of it before, but I like its needles), and although it’s not as tall as those we usually get, it’s trunk is quite wide. To fit it in our stand, I had to rev up my chainsaw and trim a good inch and a half. I forgot how therapeutic and fun my chainsaw is.

Anyway, Jack came out and said, “I can’t believe you went without me. I really did want to go. I was just trying to be annoying.”

Well, buddy, you were.

Chastened, he helped me me carry it in, and I started in on the lights. In my opinion, a great tree has tiny white lights, tons of them, and a metric ton of colorful ornaments. Like, the tree should look tastefully bedazzled from every perspective. Today, I had a good bit of my last light strand left so dragged over a house plant and lit it too.

Ol wasn’t home yet so I couldn’t decorate much more or he would be positively outraged. My friend Katherine brings neat ornaments from far-flung places, so I put ones from Laos and China on the plant, added an okra-pod angel, and sat on my hands until I’d picked up Ol.

Ol bought Nutmeg and Ruth a present and wrapped it today so we’d have a first gift.

Once home, we turned on Christmas music and got busy. It was as wonderful as ever.

Aren’t the Enenamen fabulous? A marketer for Fleet had some real fun one day. Can you imagine being the one to create caped enema superheroes? I am so glad my dad gave these to me. The big red ball is from Tiffany, the cardinal (and the other two on the tree) are memories of Nanny and other beloved relatives who are no longer with us, and I do like to keep support for causes going year round, so let’s hear it for PRIDE and women’s rights. Also, London and New York.

a firetruck given to Jack by Mom and Dad when J was little; more PRIDE; John Deer tractor; You Are My Sunshine painted by my great aunt; Baby Yoda; Northwestern (my alma mater); the blue and white Amsterdam city scape I bought when Tom and I lived there way the heck back in 2004.

Liberty Leading the People! a homemade wreath! wine grapes! teardrops I’d given to Nanny and then got back after she died! Statue of Liberty! a sword!

Oliver did a beautiful job decorating our mantel and really, much of the first floor. And on their way back in town, Mom and Dad swung by and hung a few ornaments too. A lovely afternoon.