Today was, quite simply, a superb day. We woke up peacefully, Carter went to sleep again around 8 for his morning nap, and Ava and I were able to read a bunch of books while I ate my breakfast (always a good start if I have time to eat AND read to her). Then Peter called and needed his boots for traipsing around in the woods at a property, so we all headed out to meet him. We then got the grand tour, always fun. This was a beautiful old camp, and it was fun to walk around and drool at everything. Ava is apparently learning how to appreciate architecture and antiques, as she walked around the house going “wow! Look at this! Look at this table! What a nice table. Look at this door! This is a nice kitchen.” Her favorite was the downstairs powder room. It was really cute. Then when we were finished, Ava, Carter, Rose and I drove to the Panther Mountain trailhead.

Drum roll please: Ava hiked up her first mountain today. ALL BY HERSELF. We reached the summit without one word of complaint or mishap or anything. Carter rode in the backpack, and I held her hand, and she marched all the way up, chattering away the whole time. This is not a huge hike, but it is 0.9 miles to the top, definitely a long walk for a 2 and ¾ year old. And it is reasonably steep. We talked about all sorts of things: roots, woodpeckers, rotting wood becoming dirt, Rose’s poop, a little stream, and my favorite, why I love her. That was a cute one—“Mom, why do you love me?” That got us started on how she grew inside me, and was a part of me, and I was a part of her, and Daddy was too, and then she said “oh, how?” And then I came up with what I thought was a relatively clever answer and I said, well, remember how you took a piece of red playdough, and a piece of blue playdough, and you got purple playdough? That is like you. Mommy and Daddy are the red and blue playdough and you and Carter are the purple playdough. She seemed to get the idea. (Though her playdough is now grey, apparently the color you get when mixing all of the primary colors plus green together. Not brown, or black, grey. It is so gross, it looks like a big lump of brains.) We had a picnic at the top, and then I planted a bunch of skittles in her pocket for the hike down. Not one word of complaint the whole way. I was truly astonished. And so proud.

Then we dropped by Nana’s house and raided the fridge and cabinets for anything we could find. Pickings were slim as Nana and Da are in PA, but we managed. Then we sat out on their porch and Carter cruised around for a bit. Then we piled back in the car, and went to look for the beavers in the marsh at the bottom of Panther Mountain. They were not out, but that was ok, since we saw them the other night. They were quite busy.

Carter fell asleep in the car on the way home, and we had another hour and a half to ourselves to read and pick up and snuggle and play outside. It was in the 70s today, so I threw the house open and aired it out, always a guarantor of a pleasant mood. Then we did tubbies and pjs, threw our boots back on and went outside for another 2 hours. How great is that? I LOVE that we can have outside evenings now. We came inside at quarter to 7, and 15 minutes later they were both asleep.

Carter now knows how to fling himself at my feet in a desperate effort to be picked up. He will scramble across the floor to my legs and start clawing at my feet and ankles, peering up at me like “PLEASE!!!!!!!!!!” If I am sitting, he can practically get on my shoulder in an effort to get as close to me as he possibly can. I think he is trying to merge our skin together so that he never has to be separated again.

And Ava has suddenly realized that she does not have to tattle on herself. Prior to yesterday, she would tell you what she had done, even if it was a flagrant violation of some rule or another. But yesterday, I heard my computer make its little “I’m awake!” sound, and knew she had been the perpetrator. So, I asked her what she had done. Her response was: “I, um, I touched, I, your com…, I, um…Nuuuthin.” It was as if at that very moment, she realized that my ignorance might mean her bliss. Not so, but is was a good try.

A few points I feel compelled to make re the car locking thing. First, it was not my car, and I had no idea this was even a possibility. Second, I did not lock the car, it locked itself. Third, when I am at a gas station, or anywhere else that involves me being out of the car and the kids in it, I NEVER shut my door all the way. Often Rose is in the car, and that presents a real chance of her locking the door by leaning on the button, or (as demonstrated a few times when I was in the car) putting the car into neutral. But yesterday, I was getting out of one door, retrieving something from another, and going to open the kid’s door to get them. Between the second and third door openings, I was shut out. It was weird, unexpected, and not the product of idiocy except on the part of Chevrolet for having a car that randomly decides to lock itself. Sorry to be defensive, but I have had 24 hours to think about it, and feel a bit ticked that for all of my caution in so many other scenarios, this still happened to me. It is not like I have not thought of the possibility, and taken steps to avoid it. My car does not do this, and therefore it is ok to shut a door before opening another if there is no possible way for a living being to touch a locking button. So, that is my little rant. And it still in no way mars this absolutely perfect day.

This perfect day that is going to end with me reading another chunk of ‘Saturday’ by Ian McEwan. I committed to it, as I noted earlier, and again I have been exquisitely happy I did so. Who knew that I could get so wrapped up in the unfolding of one man’s day—a middle aged neurosurgeon’s day to be precise. It (so far) has been taking place within one day—you guessed it, Saturday. Very Virginia Woolf. And the detail and drama are unbelievable. Not like, oh yeah, right drama. Just the sort of interior drama of one’s thoughts and reflections. Which is handy, since those reflections allow the establishment of a past. The observations McEwan makes are tremendous, and I find myself stopping and going ‘huh!’ at certain passages. My favorite is the likening of a city, London, to a coral reef, where the buildings and structures house and are part of an intricate social ecosystem that is always growing and evolving. That does not do it justice, but it is the idea.

But before I do that, I think I just might read Metropolitan Home, one of my new favorite magazines. That and Cookie, a new parenting mag. It targets a much more affluent parent group (a $400.00 felt globe was featured in the Great New Toys section—HELLO????????? FOUR HUNDRED dollars for a GLOBE? Of FELT???), but it is fun to read. Both magazines fall into the category of ‘beautiful life ingredients.’

And we can all thank Mr. Carter for allowing me to write this long before waking up for a nightcap.