Where Have We Been?

Where have we been?

Away from the computer, truth be told. We've been riding our trike to preschool and back. We've been rocking on all fours, figuring out how to crawl (though not quite, thankfully not quite yet). We've been in the garden, planting kale that came in the mail, and spinach and radishes and baby carrots oh so sweet. We've been picnicking in the park and playing zombie tag in our friends' backyard. We've been watching our babies grow and wondering when exactly our brand new boy turned into a pear slurping, yam squishing, bright-eyed babbler. We've been big brothering and blowing the seeds off the stalks of dandelions. It's spring and the Rioux Famille have been having a good time.

If you drop by in the morning you will find E curled up on the couch, still in his nightshirt, watching a Kipper cartoon and savouring his vitamins. You will find M in his highchair and J sitting opposite, proffering a spoonful of something sweet. J is in his work clothes, wishing he didn't have to leave, cup of coffee still steaming in his hand. If you drop by mid-afternoon you'll find us snipping herbs to season barley salad -- E has graduated to scissors that really do cut, watch your fingers -- or snipping up old copies of National Geographic. J will take a break to nurse M while E takes the camera and captures moments so perfect you you'll want to stay in them forever.

M will be on the floor stretching for the plastic cup that's just out of reach. You will be tempted to roll it towards him, but the real pleasure is in watching him stretch and scoot. He's so close now, so close. J is torn between encouragement and wishing he'd stay small, cup out of reach, just a little bit longer.

Drop by as the sun is dipping low and you'll find the boys in the bath wearing bubble beards and screaming bloody murder if soap gets in their eyes. J is at the ready with a towel freshly pulled from the dryer as Grandma Susie taught him to do. Then its pyjamity time, three stories for E and a kiss from mom to last until morning.

Don't drop by in the middle of the night. Don't even call. The bed is full, the blankets barely cover us all. The cat knows not to bother us. We don't want to stir until the clock reads six o'clock. We don't often get our way. But when you have these two beside you when you wake it's not so hard to pull yourself out of sleep and begin it all again, so grateful for yet another day.