is it Monday?

Some of us are returning to old habits. Snowdrop, for example, slept for a solid twelve hours last night. She woke up playful and happy, without a trace of the foggy tiredness that follows a crazy, sleepless set of days.






It is possible that she and Ed were the only ones from our Madison bunch who slept well. Some of us take longer to reenter a Zen state of calm required for a good night's rest.

(Ed and Snowdrop inspect our experimental tomatoes, raised apart from the ones planted in the garden.)







(She, of course, wants to pick a flower...)






Breakfast: Snowdrop asks for eggs and toast. Ed helps her spread jam on the toast.
Ed! Do you put that much jam on your own toast?
No, I put more.






I get ambitious. (I'll slow down tomorrow or the next week.) I want to bake! (Many weeks have passed since I baked.) How about rhubarb almond muffins? There has to be a good use of all the rhubarb that grows here!






We're waiting to get the all clear from the young parents -- a text that tells us Sparrow is fine and they're heading home.

There are glitches. He needs this test. They have to wait for that okay.

Time to come up with some distractions.

Ed suggests an outing to the Public Library. A farmer has brought over some young farm animals for kids to meet and greet.






Snowdrop likes them all, but when asked to name a favorite...






... she passes on the chicks, bunnies, donkeys, sheep, goats, alpaca and says without hesitation -- the little pig!

Finally. In the mid afternoon, I take the girl home, where mommy, daddy and Sparrow are waiting for her.






(Did I mention that he is not a small baby?)






When a family grows, everyone needs to shift a little. In the case of Snowdrop, there is some trepidation, but right now, there is mainly the excitement of having a real baby at home. To feed (the boy needs supplemental feeds right now, he is that big). To rock, talk to, hold.

It can be a challenge to rein her in, though I'm fairly sure that her enthusiasm will taper off somewhat. Eventually. Maybe.





In the evening I go home.

It feels so quiet here. Not only because Snowdrop has left, but because no one is texting anxious updates, no one is calling, asking, speculating. All that's behind us. It's just a regular old... what day of the week is it anyway? I can't remember...