We went out for a walk this morning. We brought along the Husbandlet’s .22 for bunny-hunting purposes, sufficient child-carrying gear, and lots of warm clothes (27 degrees and icy). We forgot water.

For some reason, the kidlets were all in their just-about worst moods. Ngaire whined and whimpered, Rhiannon grumbled and skipped her nap, and Liam screamed in his child-carrying backpack for a good part of the way out and the whole way back to the SUV. The Husbandlet and Ngaire did blow away a few chunks of ice, but between the loud tromping and the whining, grumbling, and screaming, I guess it’s not surprising that we saw no bunnies.

When, with sighs of relief, we pulled into our driveway, the Husbandlet turned to Ngaire and asked cheerily, “So, Ngaire, what was your favorite part of our walk this morning?”

Ngaire said, “I just liked the part where we got back to our car.”

Here are some images from our walk:

Ngaire in happier times (i.e., before we actually started walking).

Rhiannon and Mommy, overhead view.

It was a really pretty day.

Frost on the grass.

Liam looks suspicious. And well he might.

Turning her into a real Frozen Northern girl.

Note the several-inches-thick layer of ice on the road.

Noon.

Yesterday, there was Big Excitement: The kids and I went to pick up the Husbandlet at work, and we got to the education center/touch tank room in his building in time for feeding time.

Ngaire got to put a piece of shrimp on an anemone so we could watch the tentacle-things (technical term) pull it in. Then the Husbandlet joined us, and we all trooped into a lab to watch Mercedes the octopus being fed a chunk of fish. The tech took the lid off her tank and lured her out with the food, and Mercedes suctioned herself all over his arm. Ngaire and Liam were fascinated. Then, all at once, Mercedes squirted water on Ngaire. Ngaire jumped back, giggling, and it took her a few minutes to work up the nerve to get close to the octopus again. Then she stepped back on her stool and said, “Mercedes, don’t squirt me again.”

Right on cue, Mercedes squirted her.

Ngaire was totally soaked, and thought it was the most hilarious thing in the world. It helped, I think, that the rest of us were laughing so hard. She couldn’t stop talking about it for the rest of the evening.

* * *

This morning, Ngaire was snuggling Rhiannon in my bed while I dressed Liam. Ngaire said, “Mommy, I have a silly song!” Then she stood up on the bed, picked up Rhiannon (who dangled by her armpits like a droopy cat), and started bouncing her and singing, “Baby Boo Bat, bat bat! Baby Boo Bat, bat bat!” to the tune of “Rockin’ Robin.”

(Boo Bat is one of Rhiannon’s nicknames.)

* * *

Ngaire did some other cute thing this morning, but it escapes me.

* * *

The Frozen North is not too bad right now, especially considering the bizarre weather that seems to be hitting the lower 48. We’re hovering in the 30’s, but the days are clear and bright. I even took the kids out to play yesterday.

We’re going to have a Christmas tree this year. I’m very excited … this will be the first time since the Husbandlet and I got married that we’ll celebrate Christmas in our own home, complete with decorations, a Liam-proofed environment, and non-disrupted sleep schedules. I swoon.

Ngaire said, “I want to tell you a silly joke. Why was seven afraid of six?” [I think she got this backwards, for reasons that will become obvious.]

Us: “Why?”

Ngaire: “Because seven eight nine!”

We laughed gratifyingly.

Ngaire: “I want to tell you a silly joke!”

Us: “OK.”

Ngaire: “Why was seven afraid of six?”

Us: “Why?”

Ngaire: “Because there was broccoli all over the road!”

Of course.

NaNoWriMo: I did OK. Not quite up to my goal, but then, I was trying to approach even my goal as reasonably flexible, because I wanted to accomplish some writing without any accompanying guilt of not doing quite well enough. I think I came in somewhere between 10,000 and 11,000 words; my goal was 15,000.

Now I need to focus that energy and time on getting together a class I’m teaching starting in January. I attended a professional development seminar today, and OH my. My brain is so not in that mode right now.

Rhiannon is seven months and four days old!

She now babbles (“Babababababa!” etc.). She rocks on all fours, and sometimes scooches a knee forward and then flings herself on her stomach to reach something she wants. She is so close to crawling.

I just can’t say enough about how sweet she is. She is quiet, patient, and loving … big kids love her, and she loves big kids. She pretty much loves everybody, as far as I can tell. It’s actually rather gratifying to me on those rare occasions when she displays some stranger anxiety/mommy preference.

My brain is rather fried from wrapping itself around Captivate this morning (to mix a metaphor), so I will just reiterate that Rhiannon is amazing–did I mention the all-night sleeping that has been going on around here? Twelve to thirteen hours a night, people!–and leave you with a picture of Rhiannon being delighted with having a pillow fight with Daddy and Ngaire.

33 degrees and bucketing rain. Since there’s still about an inch of ice on all horizontal surfaces, driving is kind of like hydroplaning on an ice rink.

Loren, you stink.

(I mean that in the most loving and mature way possible, of course.)

Today, as we were getting into the SUV after church, the Husbandlet said, “So, shall we go up Pillar Mountain?”

I said, “Be my guest. You can take the kids, too.”

(It is currently 20 degrees outside, with an inch-thick layer of ice over the ground. And it’s windy.)

Ngaire mulled this over for part of the ride home, then she said, “Mommy, are we going up Pillar today?”

I said, “No, it’s way too cold to do that today.”

Ngaire told the Husbandlet, “No, Daddy, we can’t go up the mountain today! It’s way too cold.”

The Husbandlet: “Daddy was just being silly. If we went up the mountain today, the cold and the wind would turn us into L—sicles!”

Me: “L—sicles!”

The Husbandlet: “And then bears would come and lick us.”

This morning, over breakfast, Ngaire asked, “Mommy, how do you write?”

Me: “Do you mean, how do I make the letters, or what’s my writing process?”

Ngaire: “Process.”

Me: “OK. Well, I like to go off by myself and sit in a comfortable place with my computer. Then I move my fingers over the keyboard, like this.” (Much finger-wiggling from me and giggling from the little people.) “I usually have some idea of the story I’m going to write, and then I make stuff up as I go along.”

Ngaire: “Oh.”

Me: “So, Ngaire, how do you write?”

Ngaire: “I write the words on my paper.”

(Incidentally, I’m wearing my “Writing Well is the Best Revenge” t-shirt today, much to Ngaire’s delight and continual reading. And, incidentallyer, the magic qualities of this t-shirt? are not exaggerated.)

This morning around 6:45, Ngaire got in bed with us. The Husbandlet and I always try to sleep a little longer when this happens, but it never works. By the time she gets to us, Ngaire pretends to snuggle, but is ready to play. (Early morning snuggling with Liam is right out. Rhiannon is the only one who is currently up for long, luxurious morning cuddles.)

At one point, Ngaire said, “Let’s pretend to be kitty cats!”
The Husbandlet: “All right. Let’s curl up, purr, and go to sleep.”

* * *

Just now, Ngaire was toying with her lunch.

The Husbandlet: “Eat up, Ngaire.”
Ngaire: “I want my mommy.”
The Husbandlet: “She’s right there, across the table. Eat your noodles, Ngaire. They’re hot buttered noodles! If you won’t eat hot buttered noodles, what will you eat?”
Ngaire: “Cookies!”

* * *

Liam seems to have caught the plague, too. His fever got up to nearly 105 on Wednesday night. However, he’s much better now, aside from the fact that he has a double ear infection.

The Husbandlet also has an ear infection.

After a brief round of H1N1 (I think), I am down to a UTI and a cold.

(Ngaire and Rhiannon are fit as fiddles, though are they ready for love?)

* * *

We are slowly but surely acquiring furniture for our new big Frozen Northern house. We got super lucky today and scored a big dining room table … alas, it has no chairs, just two benches, but that just gives me a chance to get creative. I also found a little dresser for Liam’s room, and we’ve picked up a futon for guests and assorted living room furniture. Bookshelves are a hot commodity here; we are amazed that we’ve been able to buy two.

It would probably be easier if we were up for buying new, but the prices here are horrendous, and it’s possible to get nice stuff used, as long as you’re willing to wait for it. My heart is, if not broken, severely let down by the fact that IKEA does not ship here … that pretty much destroyed my decorating game plan. Ah well.

The damage: One sick Ngaire (Monday through Saturday), one sorta-sick Jordana (Thursday-ish through … well, I still feel recovering-ish), one day missed on NaNoWriMo.

NaNoWriMo status: I’ve been managing around 700 or 800 words a day (though, no pressure! I’m only promising 500!) except for Friday, which I skipped due to general yuckiness, and Saturday night, when I clocked in at around 420 (but I spent some writing time checking out context-for-story stuff and brainstorming background … and getting distracted on Facebook, mea culpa).

My house is a disaster of mostly unpacked boxes and partially-processed laundry, but! I have vacuumed my carpet for the first time since we moved in! And Liam is totally fascinated or something by the vaccum … he talks about it all the time, tries to peek into its closet home, runs to sit on the stairs, which he considers a safe zone, while loudly requesting me to vacuum, keeps track of its progress around the house (“Where vacuum cleaner is? Oh, there it is!”), etc. etc. etc. He and Ngaire have a fun game where he sits on the vacuum, she pulls out the cord, and then he pushes the retract button, and then they both giggle.

The days are getting shorter here, and we now eat breakfast in the dark. Liam looked outside the other morning and made an observation about how dark it was, then said, “It’s the blue, blue dark.” Very observant. Equally observant: He was hiding or something and I asked, “Where’s Liam?” He said, “Oh, there I am!”

Ngaire is reading! She is reading a Dick and Jane compilation book! See Ngaire go! Go, Ngaire, go! The poor girl has been so very distressed by her quarantine and has been asking every day, “NOW can I go to preschool?” She came downstairs on Friday morning asking what she should take to preschool for her show and tell. Alas, the earliest we can hope for is Monday, but the prospect looks good. However, I have been enjoying spending the extra time with her … sometimes, between her self-sufficiency and her strong will, and the amount of time required by the two littler ones, I begin to feel like most of my interactions with her are directions and corrections. And then I feel like a bad mommy.

Rhiannon is now in her big girl 6-9 month clothes and is spending lots of tummy time getting up on her hands and knees and rocking. My baby! She is absolutely delectable; I think that having had a couple of kidlets already progress quickly through babyhood makes me realize just how much I need to enjoy her sweet baby squeaks and growls, and her plump thighs.

Yesterday, we picked up a couple of HUGE pumpkins on sale at WalMart, and the Husbandlet and I spent much of the day baking and pureeing the pumpkin and roasting the seeds. The Husbandlet made a wonderful curried pumpkin soup for dinner; I whipped up some oatmeal bread to go with it. I am so thankful to have my breadmaking stuff back … I love baking, and we eat a LOT of bread.

In other news, since my hair-cutting gear arrived, I have shorn the men in my life. And there was much rejoicing.

You guessed it. Ngaire has swine flu.

At least, we’re pretty sure that’s what it is. She shows all the signs (fever, coughing and sneezing, lethargy and poor appetite), and the regular seasonal flu has yet to infiltrate our sector of the Frozen North. My kidlets are always at their sweetest when they’re sick, and we’ve passed an enjoyable (rainy) day reading books, watching movies, and drinking lots of fluids. It’ll be interesting to see if the rest of us succumb … we could be in for a lot of sick days.

It’s NaNoWriMo, and after years of kinda-sorta wanting to give it a try but not being willing to make the commitment, I’m going to give it a shot, though I’m only aiming for 500 words a day. 1,000 seems a bit daunting. The Husbandlet has been joining me in nightly writing sessions. We feel very virtuous and productive.

Now I must away, as the little bitty one is mewling.