Bring it, fall

It's going to be cold here in the next couple of days, and I have to tell you that I am excited about it.  I know I will be shocked that I even said such a thing when we are going on month 84 of winter, but right now?  I am here for soup and muffin season.  Plus I bought myself an adorable new dress coat, got Dorothy a mid-weight coat between her fleece-lined windbreaker and her long Lands End down coat, found a slim down puffer for Harry that fills the same void, and snagged a 12-pack of knit gloves on Amazon to coast through November.  WE ARE READY.  (Cooper needs a winter coat, though-- he has a North Face fall/spring coat, but he needs one for the super cold days, so think of me if you see a ridiculous Gap/Old Navy/Land End sale).

You all know I love anything Gretchen Rubin, right?  Well, one of the things she talks about on her podcast is the idea of a season of sacrifice.  It's like a way to tell yourself your happiness in just deferred, not nonexistent, and it works really well if you are in a busy work season, for example.  In many ways, this time of small children and busy schedules is a season of sacrifice.  I sacrifice my own creative work time, for example, and Ben and I  sacrifice a lot of time together in favor of kiddie activities, etc.  In some ways, the season of sacrifice frame works for me  but it reminds me that there is light at the end of this busy tunnel. But!  I think it also makes me focus on the nagging inconveniences of my day instead of relishing in this time that we are all together under the same roof and living these luxuriously mundane days.  You know what I mean?  Instead of focusing on the things about each day that are stressful or difficult to navigate, I am going to try really hard to remind myself-- and the kids-- about all of the things that went right.

To that end, last night, we played rose-bud-thorn at the dinner table, and Dorothy was equally excited about getting a new student in her class today AND about school lunch today.  (I  make them be in charge of the school lunch calendar, and if they want to buy lunch, they need to tell me before I pack the next day's food.  Dorothy has been intimidated by the menu because her teacher doesn't use pictures anymore, and she hasn't been sure that she could read the choices.  But she CAN! So not only is she excited about the grab and go menu option (grab and go is a yogurt, a cheese stick, some fruit, some veggies, and some kind of muffin), but she is so proud of herself for reading and planning it),.  And her ebullience over these two really basic things-- another student in an already kind of crowded classroom and a school lunch menu she likes-- was so sweet and wonderful and such a perfect reminder that this is a happy epoch.

Could I love this Gymboree dress from a friend more?  No.  No I could not.

 Cooper wanted a portrait mode selfie, and I had no makeup on, but still!  I did not refuse because I am a giver.

 Dorothy has a renewed interest in play doh, and I have a renewed interest in baking literal heaps of fall sweets.

 Makeup and sunglasses- way better.

 Jack is totally a mini college kid here, and I love it!

 After school was Very Serious Dance Time.

 Dorothy, realizing she has a narwhal collection, not just a stuffed narwhal.  Funny how those things creep up on you.

One second I was annoyed because I had to walk so far on campus, and the next second I was like HOLY COW IT'S GORGEOUS HERE.

 Messy office or place where I am going to write the funniest coming-of-middle-age novel ever?  OR BOTH?

 Could I love this dance look more?  Again, no.  No I could not.

 This dog!  I think fall is her favorite season, too.

 Metal straws! Climbing the VSCO ladder.

 Beatrix awlays appreciates a hot breakfast.

 Hockey tryouts!

 It was Caroline's birthday yesterday

 She celebrated with a tea party.

 Ben and I had wine by the fire, and we were joinded by our dog who thinks she's a human.

 A perfect way to end the day.

 Speaking of being busy: THIS IS NOT THE ONLY PICNIC OUT OF THE CAR the kids will eat this week.  GAH.