apples

In the early weeks of Homemade Time, we went apple picking with some friends. I remember feeling very accomplished and impressed with myself posting those photos, having coordinated with new friends, wrangled two little ones on a chilly day, and brought home half a fridge-full of apples.

Almost every year since, we've made the trip. (Has it really been four years? Is it really 2013? I had to think twice, then three times, to be sure). With apples overflowing the kitchen counter from today's haul, I just peeked at that old post.  How we have grown! (Grown haggard, in my case - I decided to skip sharing the shadow-eyed selfie with Bea in the Ergo. Hopefully that will improve post sleep-training...)

But really. The long limbs! The rainbow loom bracelets! The pounding sprint, the rather irritating and unbelievably loud rendition of '99 Bottles of Beer on the Wall' (thanks to Ramona, who planted the idea, and me - why?? - who shared the tune), the arguing over who gets to pull 30 pounds of apples in the little wagon, the talk of whether or not it is embarrassing to drive past middle schoolers with Pete Seeger blasting out of your minivan's windows.

And of course, of course, the baby. Our baby. She was barely a twinkle four years ago. She was a twinkle I kept private because most everyone I knew would have told me I was crazy for even thinking about a third then. But I did! More often than I care to admit. And now she's here, and I am so grateful.