Easter Weekend Recap

Our Easter weekend was filled with warm sunshine, family fun, and of course, copious amounts of sugar.

Here's a recap (not for the faint of heart, but I want to remember these days):

Good Friday
This was our first day off since January, but I guess we forgot to remind Ellie, who insisted I get up with her at 6:30 (thanks, kiddo). Despite the early start, we had a wonderful day. Josh got some work done around the yard in the morning, and the girls and I dyed and decorated Easter eggs. I was a little disappointed to find we were out of vinegar, so the colors weren't as vibrant as I would have liked, but the girls didn't seem to mind.

After lunch, we went to the seventh layer of Hell Wal-Mart to pick up the swingset we had ordered. A thousand years later we left with the swingset, a few odds and ends, and about 50 more grey hairs, and Josh decided the best way to celebrate our survival was with a Dairy Queen. I was a little nervous about how that would go, since our last visit coincided with Ellie's first, awful bout of the stomach flu. She obviously remembers strawberries being involved in her illness because she spit out the bite she was offered, but a chocolate cone hit the spot.

After Dairy Queen, we dropped Josh's dad's truck off and headed to Shore Acres so Elaina could get her fill of seashells. I think she could spend all afternoon on the river bank searching for her little treasures. We played on the playground for a while afterwards and then headed home. I made dinner while Josh attempted to fix the girls' Innotabs, and after we ate, we surprised them with Frozen (not sure Elaina has ever been that excited---lots of screeching, hopping, and giddiness).

Elaina gathering her treasures

Saturday
This morning, of course, when we had to get up and get on the road, both girls decided to sleep in. Figures :) After a quick breakfast, we headed out for a day with my side of the family, first at Mom and Dad's, and then down at the farm. (This was especially pleasing to Elaina, who had been asking how many day's til Gramma and Pampah's all week long.) As we got going, we discovered that all of Josh's hard work to get the girls' Innotabs up and ready to go hit a snafu, so a portion of the drive was a bit tense, but thankfully Ellie and Elaina didn't seem to mind, the weather was sunny and cheery, and we made good time--all in all, a success.

Once we got home (do you ever stop calling the place you grew up "home"?), we mostly just spent time together, and that was the best part. Elaina regaled her grandparents with a rousing rendition of "Let It Go", I got to have some cuddle time with Nehemiah, and Josh talked gardening with Jeremy and Dad. After lunch, the kiddos got to have an Easter Egg hunt, and soon after, it was time to head to the farm.

Mom's forsythia

Cousins ready for action

And they're off!

Rachel got the girls "hoopa loops"--Ellie was excited, despite her expression here!

Ellie fell asleep on the way, and for awhile I got to rock with her on the porch swing and chat with Gramma.

That was probably my favorite part of the whole day. It didn't hurt that the weather was absolutely gorgeous --sunny, with a slight breeze, not too warm for jeans and not too cool for shorts. I had such a nice time with my family. We had strawberry shortcake, visited the cows, Elaina chased her cousins, and Josh even found a few minutes to dig up some wild blackberry plants to join our growing berry garden. He said this way, I get part of my family's farm at our house--which I think is a pretty awesome sentiment. We also had another Easter Egg hunt, which I didn't get to take pictures of because by that point Ellie was glued to my hip.

Ellie modeling Uncle Todd's hat

After the hunt, we headed to the cemetery to give some flowers to Grampa, who has been gone from us 10 years now. Gramma and I talked about how hard it is to believe so much time has passed, but we looked around and saw reminders of him everywhere, especially in that little glint of red in Ellie's hair.

It was a full, busy day. But it was good.

Easter Sunday
This day started off with a giggly Ellie, a happy Elaina, and a delicious breakfast cooked by Josh. We gave them their Easter baskets afterwards--pretty simple, really: bubbles, sidewalk chalk, and Easter cups for both (mostly because I was tired of them arguing over the one "bunny cup" we had from two Easters ago...), a puzzle for Ellie, and My Little Pony pens for Elaina. We watched Frozen (again) while Josh got some tilling done, and then it was time to get dressed for church. Josh was kind enough to indulge me in a few pictures before we left.

Lou-Lou in her Easter finery

Our service was at 11:00 and had plenty of pep. (I'd be lying if I didn't say that it is on the holiday Sundays more than any others that I miss the traditions in which I was raised, particularly in the music. It just doesn't seem right to not sing "Up From the Grave He Arose" on Easter morning, and nothing Chris Tomlin writes will change my mind on that.) After church, we headed to Mario and Rita's for (another) Easter egg hunt. Danielle did a spectacular job preparing the eggs, and I had fun setting them out with her for the girls to find. They were, of course, thrilled to be able to have a hunt with Arcadia.

We came home, changed, and were off to another family get-together, this time with Josh's extended family.There was one final Easter egg hunt, and it is safe to say we will not need any candy until roughly Halloween, so that timing works out quite well.

Batter up!

When we got home, Josh worked on the garden, planting a few spots of carrots, peas, and herbs that didn't come up, and the girls played and gathered bouquets.

It was a busy, full weekend. Exhausting. But full of love.

Throwback Thursday Stories {1}

I am linking up with Jessica Turner @ The Mom Creative for Throwback Thursday Stories. Join me there!

Summer evening at the farm, 1986

This picture has always been one of my favorites, because it captures the spirit of summer evenings spent at my grandparents' farm--some of the happiest moments of my childhood.

Those evenings when, after a quick dinner, we would pile into the car and drive 40 minutes to the farm that has been in our family for well over a century. We drove with the windows down, I, the youngest, in the middle of the backseat, and conversation was quieted by the rush of wind. The roads wound like rollercoasters, up, down, and around, and soon, we rounded the curve from which the white farmhouse could finally be seen.

We would pull into the driveway, gravel crunching under the tires, and Dad would park under  the massive walnut tree in the front yard. Sometimes, my brother and sister and I would have competitions to see who could throw a green walnut the furthest into the field across the street. (I never won: my walnuts usually exploded on the road or, with a particularly bad throw, the driveway, though I always felt my tenacity should count for something.) Usually Grampa was sitting on a white plastic lawn chair on the front porch, reading the newspaper, with his boxer (alway named after military ranks--Major, Colonel) resting by his side. He greeted us with hugs, hard and warm, and he smelled faintly of newspaper ink and tractor grease and Old Spice. Gramma greeted us inside, cleaning up the remnants of their dinner while watching Wheel of Fortune. After hugs and greetings, we walked out of the kitchen to the back door, past the succulents Gramma kept growing by the window, past the deep freeze that held ice cream always tasting just a little freezerburnt, and out to the reason we came: the garden.

The garden is several hundred feet from the house, but the distance never seemed to great in my child's mind. There was so much to see along the way, so much to experience. Sheets waving on the line, fresh and crisp from their time in the sun. Red hollyhocks that Gramma would magically transform into little dolls. The chicken coop, with several hens clucking around the one rooster who kept proudly announcing his presence. The pasture, wide and deep, cut through by the tiny creek that sometimes barely moved, just beyond the electric fence. The bees Grampa kept, quietly buzzing underneath the jonathan tree. And next to that, far enough to be safe, the garden.

Then our shoes came off, and the work would begin. The humidity lay upon us like a blanket; even as the sun began to set, the heat of July was slow to subside. We made our way to the green bean bushes, to the tomato plants heavy with fruit. We were shown how to move the leaves to find the hidden beans, given the elusive permission to feed a rotten tomato to the chickens. Gramma would sometimes tell us stories of growing up during the Depression, how, on nights as hot as the one in which we worked, she and her siblings would sleep under the stars because the outside was cooler than their tiny house crammed with 10 people. Occassionally the breeze would stir the air, bugs and birds sang duets, and the dust of the earth covered our feet in a soft brown mist. We worked until the sweat stung our eyes, until our hair was glued to the back of our necks, until our backs ached when we finally stood.  We talked and laughed and teased Jeremy for his uncanny ability to disappear when the picking began--though now, I think it was as much to spend time with Grampa as it was to get out of the work (and it was that, too).

We filled 5 gallon buckets until the garden had nothing left to offer, and then the buckets would be lifted into the wheelbarrow and guided back to the house, past the chicken coop and Gramma's flower beds and the clothesline, and then we would go inside to wash up. Because I was small, I would be lifted to sit on the bathroom sink, and the dust of the garden would be washed away by a white bar of Dove soap, which smelled of Gramma, or a grainy green bar of Lava, which she always pronounced "Laaa-va". And when we were clean, it was time for a glass of sun tea or, for a special treat, a Pepsi. Dad would join Grampa on the front porch, and they would talk as the sun set lower and lower, as the humming bugs grew louder and the peace of the farm settled into the night. Sometimes, like on the night this picture was taken, all of us would settle outside and rock softly on the worn red swing.

I remember not always enjoying the work--it was hot and dusty and made me ache--but even in that, I loved those evenings at my grandparents' farm. I loved the scratch of Grampa's whiskers on my cheek when he hugged us. I loved the warmth of Gramma's hugs, and the sound of her voice as she told stories. I loved playing with Grampa's dogs, and I loved the way the breeze would float across the corn field, rustling the leaves and telling the secrets of how the field grew green and full. I loved the soft dirt between my toes. I loved working side by side with Rachel, often talking about what adventures our Barbies would soon be on. I loved the velvety crunch of a green bean plucked fresh from the plant. I loved the peace.

The towheaded little girl in the picture is me, almost 6 years old.  My Grampa took this picture; he will be gone from us 10 years next week. He died eight months before I met Josh, before Jeremy met Nikki, before Rachel met Lips. He never got to see us married or to hold his great-grandchildren. But he was in the moments of my best childhood memories, and every time I go to the farm and sway on that faded red porch swing, a part of him is with me. And a part of that almost-6 year old is there, too, smiling with the joy of tired content, of an evening filled with love.

New {a picture post}

New uses for old toys...

 New creations...

New fashion...

 

New bedtime pictures with Mama...

New recipe...

Coconut banana bread...thanks, Pinterest!

New plants...

ground cover raspberries

New makeup...

New polish...

New confidence...

New life...

 

red raspberry shoot

lilacs

tulip....sooo close to opening 

New surprises...

New adventures...

New chapters...

The Memory Keeper's Daughter

Currently

Seemed like a fun way to recap recent goings-on. (Thanks for the idea, Erika!)

Listening... technically, Mysteries at the Museum, a.k.a Amanda's Thursday night guilty nerdy pleasure. Otherwise, Nickel Creek's new album, "A Dotted Line." I was so, so excited when I found out Nickel Creek was getting back together, and their new album doesn't disappoint. Also--since we now have Pandora, I am loving all the stations you can create. I've found that the Irish Traditional station is actually my favorite for running--sounds weird, but it works!

Eating... Nothing at the moment, but I'm pretty excited for the dinner we're planning for Saturday--grilled chicken, guacamole, and corn on the cob. It's going to be sunny and 78, so I may even try to talk Josh into having dinner outside. I mean, what do we have a picnic table for, anyway (besides disguising the lovely circle of dead grass where the septic tank resides...)?

Drinking... Hot black tea with a little sweet-n-low. What would I rather be drinking? 30 30 coffee, or an iced caramel macchiato. Sidenote: Anyone else find Starbucks to be wildly inconsistent between locations? The first macchiato I had was delicious--cold, refreshing, and sweet but not too sweet. Fast forward to Saturday, where we waited just short of forever in the drive thru at another location, and our reward for waiting was a drink that wasn't fully blended and decidedly on the bitter side (like coffee that's been sitting on the burner all morning...hmm...). Starbucks is kind of the McDonald's of the coffee world...so shouldn't it taste the same wherever you go? Anyway... :)

Wearing... pink leopard jammy pants, fuzzy slippers, and an old dorm tshirt I got my senior year in college. (I will save you the actual visual.) The first time Josh saw me wear it, he thought it was Japanese (it simply reads ONU--for Olivet Nazarene University). I had quite a good time explaining to him that he was, in fact, quite wrong.

Feeling... Kind of relieved. The weekend was kind of rough, and the beginning of the week wasn't a whole lot better. Thankfully, the last couple of days have been muuuuch better, and I feel less like a complete failure. And kind of anxious--I've been reading some stuff lately that's really challenged my faith and the way I look at things, and it's a good thing, but kind of scary because I can tell the impact is going to be pretty huge once it settles in.

Weather... is getting decidedly better. The highs have been in the low 60s the last couple of days (Thank you, Jesus, Amen), meaning we've been able to spend the evening outside after dinner. This weekend is supposed to be spectacular (until it rains on Sunday and then returns to the miserably familiar below-average temperatures--highs in the 40s = yuck). My plan is to spend as little time as possible inside on Saturday!

Wanting... something from Dairy Queen would be nice. I would also take Ellie sleeping all night. She's been getting up at least once a night; when it's around 5am, she gets to climb in next to me and fall back asleep, but when it's like 1:30, I have to take her back to bed and hold her hand until she falls asleep again. It is a sweet thing, but I think tonight I would like to get through rem without interruption :)

Needing... to schedule an appointment with the eye doctor. My eyes and contact lenses have not been on friendly terms for several months now, but I'm sort of afraid that I'll be told I did permanent damage to my eyes by sleeping in contacts for too long. Really, I blame my childhood orthodontist for this. He was a scary, mean man, and he yelled at his patients in front of everybody and made them cry. When I lost my retainer, I could never work up the courage to go back. I don't want the doctor to yell at me...but it sure would be nice to not have to wear glasses every day, especially since I'm down to one pair (thanks, Ellie...).

Thinking...  about the weekend, about things I want to write, about how glad I am that in 20 minutes I don't have to go figure out what I'm going to wear tomorrow--aka, I don't have to iron.  Thank you, casual Friday!

Enjoying... our blooming crocuses, and the teeeeeeny tiny sprouts in our garden. Yesterday we spotted radishes, chard, lettuce, carrots poking their little green heads out of the soil. So happy that, despite next week's forecast, spring is finally here!

Anatomy of a great weekend

March hasn't been my favorite month, but it sure went out on a nice note this weekend.

Of course, it started out with a few bumps. On Friday, after a fun visit to Picket Fence, we decided to go to the new Mexican restaurant in town for dinner. Bad, bad decision. The food and service were subpar; our food came out at such different times that the girls were done with their dinner before Josh and I had even been served ours, and when it came out, the beans and rice were cold. Womp womp. On the bright side, we discovered that Ellie likes spicy salsa and dipped her chips quite happily into it, so I suppose not all was lost.

On Saturday morning, we slept in a bit (anything past 5:45 is sleeping in!). The girls joined us around 6:00, and by about 7:30 Ellie had had enough. She crawled out of bed and said, "Mommy, I'ww be wiiight back." and off she went...for about two steps into the hall. Then she came back and said, "Mommy. Ged up." And so I did. We went into the living room and watched the news and read "A Fly Went By" from her Dr. Seuss collection, until Josh woke up. Then he made a pot of glorious 3030 coffee and we enjoyed Rescue 33 donuts we'd gotten the night before.

The rest of Saturday morning was relaxing. The girls watched their cartoons, Josh and I read, and we didn't really do much else. Before lunch, the girls and I went into Elaina's room to play. Ellie built a block castle, and Elaina rediscovered the menu board I made for her birthday. Who knew so many months later it would provide an entire weekend's worth of entertainment for her?

After lunch, we ran to Harbor Frieght and then re-upped our membership with Costco. Amazingly, neither Josh nor myself wanted to curl into a ball or cry or flee from the store...it's amazing what free samples can do to quell the beast that sometimes takes the form of otherwise (fairly) reasonable children. When we got home, Josh put on the Equestria Girls movie.

Getting cozy for their movie

I took the opportunity to go for a run and to call Sarah, my best friend from high school. It was great to talk to her--she had her third baby, Adam, last month, and it was so fun to hear his little squeaks and to compare notes. We laughed at each other because I, with two "older" preschoolers, have quite a bit more freedom, which she longs for, and she, with a new baby, has all the cuddles and squeaks and "new", which I think is so much (exhausting) fun. At the end of our conversation, we realized that we have been friends for nearly 20 years now. Crazy. But I wouldn't trade her for anything.

When I got off the phone, I showered and we went to Kroger for our "normal" groceries, which also went surprisingly well. Josh made pizza for dinner while the girls colored. We even tried Ellie in big girl undies for awhile, which was not a total success, but we're getting there. After they went to bed, we read AND watched Wisconsin beat Arizona in overtime. Mom and I texted throughout the game, and she told me Rachel was on the phone with Dad. What can I say? We grew up watching March Madness, we cheer for Big 10 teams, and we hate Arizona. It's a family affair :)

On Sunday morning, Josh got up early and thankfully, when Ellie told me she'd "be wiiight back", she stayed with him, letting me snooze a little longer. After breakfast and toons, Josh went outside to do some prep work on the garden while the girls and I played inside. Then it was time to get ready for church. Finally warm enough for more springy dresses!

In pictures like this, I am again dumbfounded by people who ask if they are twins...

The BEST part of the day was after church and after lunch, when we spent three glorious hours outside. Josh and the girls planted our cold frame box--carrots, broccoli, cauliflower, radishes, onions, chard, sugar snap peas, and lettuce. I cleaned up our flowerbeds and searched for hints of green poking up out of the soil, drew unicorns on the back patio (one of my many artistic talents, to be sure), and provided general entertainment to the two youngest members of the Serrano family. After the neverending winter, it was so, so, so nice to be outside, in the sun, without a coat. Fresh air, blue skies, and promises of many more afternoons like this to come.

poking holes for seeds

Showing her how it's done

Elaina plants peas

Ellie helps with chard

William Wallace, or Jem?

To cap off an already great weekend, Josh and I enjoyed the season finale of The Walking Dead, which was shocking and exciting and left me both thankful for the time away from the show and looking forward to next season. And before I knew it, it was time to pic out my clothes for the day and go to bed.

Ahh, Monday. You came too soon.

Happy things

As far as 2014 goes, March hasn't been my favorite month. First, we've had the winter that will not end, and every time we get a small reprieve (temperatures above 45, for example), it's always followed by yet another arctic blast. Take this past weekend. Friday was lovely, with highs in the low 60s. Here, a scant three days later, snow is in the forecast. Again. Second, though we've been fortunate enough to remain healthy through most of the winter, our luck finally ran out, and we all got the flu. Ellie got it the worst, poor baby, and that was hard. Third, Winston ran away and I thought he was lost for good. When we went to bed Friday night, and I didn't know he was coming back, I told Josh that March could officially kiss my rear.

Luckily, I am finding plenty of things to be happy about. Here is my list of 5 things March got right.

1. Iced caramel macchiatto.

Source

Wanting something different from my normal cafe mocha, I ordered this for the first time on Saturday night, and wow, where has this been all my life? Refreshing, sweet-but-not-too-sweet, and good to the last drop. I have a feeling it will be a staple this summer.

2. X-tra short jeans from Maurices

Source

I am 4'11, so even regular short jeans, made for 5'4 and under, are too long (and, annoyingly, are often stacked on the highest rack at the store. What sense does that make???). I finally broke down and bought some kids jeans from Old Navy last fall, mostly because they make jeans for "bigger" kids that allow for the hips I have, and I needed skinny jeans to go with my boots. But I really don't have much of a desire to shop in the same section that my daughters will be in a few years, and as much as I like Old Navy's price point, the quality isn't always there for jeans.

And then, hallelujah, amen, I found out that Maurices sells extra-short jeans. The hem fits perfectly, the wash is nice, and they look a heck of a lot more snazzy than the too-long jeans I've been wearing. And, they're the same price as Old Navy jeans. Winner winner, chicken dinner.

3. Season finale of The Walking Dead.


Walking Dead is by far our favorite show--it's the only show we never miss. I love the writing, I love the story line, and I love seeing the depth each character is given. It's actually quite literary, and I really appreciate that. But it stresses me out, wondering who will be the next to go, or how the story line will resolve (which it never does). After 8 weeks last fall and another 7 this spring, I'm starting to feel a little drained. (Yes, I realize how ridiculous that sounds.) So while I'm excited to see how this season ends next Sunday, I'd be lying if I said I'm not going to feel just a little relieved to get some emotional rest until October.

4. Planning a little something-something for our anniversary.
This June, Josh and I will celebrate our 8th anniversary, and now that the girls have successfully had two sleepovers with Gramma, we have a little more freedom to do something outside of Peoria county. We had talked about going to Chicago to spend the day and eat at one of Rick Bayless's restaurants, but neither of us are very keen on navigating the city. And we talked about going to Galena, which we did three years ago when I was about 8 months pregnant with Ellie, but it's quite a drive, too...though I suppose the coffee roasting shop may make it worth it. Right now we're throwing around the idea of going to Starved Rock, to stay overnight, do some hiking at nearby Mattheson, and have a nice dinner. I don't know what we'll end up doing, but it sure is fun to consider the options. (Pics from our trip there in 2009.)

5. Welcoming the 21st Century into the Serrano house.
Because the local cable company hates us, they never dropped cable lines when our neighborhood was going up roughly 15 years before we moved here. What this means is a) we have to have satellite for tv (no biggie, as I've found DirecTV to be better than Comcast was, anyway), and b) we have no Internet. This is particularly annoying because a house that I could literally hit with a rock from our yard can get cable internet, but we can't. We made due for a year by using an air card, and then, once we got our smartphones, we started hotspotting, which is a great way to suck up data with spotty coverage. But Danielle went through the trouble to research this conundrum, and found out that we could indeed get service from Frontier. So back in December, Josh called and confirmed what Danielle had learned, and said, "Sign us up!" And we found out they had to drill beneath the road to connect us, and then we had the winter that would not end, so for three long months we've lived with the promise yet unfulfilled. Finally, finally, this week things seem to be moving. When we came home from church on Sunday, little flags were in our yard, marking the gas and electric lines. When we came home today, more flags marked the water way. All these flags mean that in the next few days, drilling will be done, and hallelujah amen we will have internet at our house. We're even thinking of buying an Ipad. I'm not sure what we'll do with this sudden onslaught of technology, but I'm pretty excited to find out.

So there you have it. March has been pretty stinky...but things are looking up.

In which I suffered a broken heart

One thing I didn't account for when I made my big plans to move to Nashville following college graduation was how lonely life in "the big city" could be. It wasn't at first. I knew a handful of people and worked with nice people, and I assumed that friendship would following naturally out of those relationships. But it didn't, and when I moved out of my first apartment four months after moving to the city (my roommate was getting married, and I knew going into it that the arrangement would be temporary), I found myself alone. After two months of that, I had had enough of coming home to an empty, lifeless apartment. So I made the best decision of my entire 14 month stint in the city: I decided to get a cat.

On a sunny day in February, Margaret Dixon, our company CFO and fellow animal lover, drove me to the Davidson County Animal Shelter. My only stipulations were that I wanted a kitten, and I wanted it to be male. There were five kittens in the "fishbowl" room where kittens were kept: 3 grey-striped tabby males, a quiet female Siamese, and a little white tiger male with a grey striped tail and blue eyes. I wanted him immediately. He wasn't as playful as the other kittens, which concerned me a bit, but when I picked him up and he fell asleep purring in my lap, that was it. After we had been there awhile, another woman came in and began loving on the kittens. She picked up the white tiger kitten, who had woken up and started to play. Margaret must have seen the panic in my eyes, because she said, "Are you interested in that kitten? Because she wants him." (Bless her for saying what I did not have the courage to say.) Thankfully, the woman smiled and explained she just liked to come hold the kittens and wasn't interested in adopting any of them. I exhaled, and then I made it official: that afternoon, Winston became mine.

And he has been with me ever since.

He was by my side during the darkest stretch of adulthood I have been through, and he kept the loneliness from being altogether suffocating. He ran to greet me at the door every single day, including the day I came home in tears because I had been fired from my job. He was with me the night my apartment builing was set on fire in Dekalb, obediently climbing into his carrier when I decided to see what all the commotion in the hall had been about. (When I opened the door to a wall of smoke, I remember panicking because he didn't know how to hold his breath while I locked my door.) He was the reason I called Josh, my friend from Giles' class, to come pick me up at 3:30 in the morning, because I couldn't take my cat with me to a Red Cross shelter. Josh loved Winston, and before too long, he loved me, too. When we got married, Winston came with us to our brick oven duplex in Rockford. A few months later, he got to go on his very first (and to this date, only) boat ride when our neighborhood was flooded with six feet of urban runoff. (When it happened again 11 months later, Winston was lucky enough to stay home while the water receded.) He hated us briefly when we decided to get another kitten, a tiny black thing we named Chappu. He has been a part of my life for a decade now: seven moves, two floods, a fire, a wedding, a graduate degree, another kitten, and two babies later. He owns a ridiculous amount of nicknames and gets away with a ridiculous amount of silly cat behavior (namely begging unashamedly for water while I am showering and yowling at all hours of the night with one of his toys), because now he's a little old, and we've been through a lot, so he deserves some spoiling. I like to say that we have an agreement, that he will never die, and so far, he's lived up to his end of the agreement.

On Friday night, I thought that changed.

I took my shower after the girls went to bed, making sure to shut the bathroom door before starting the water so Winston wouldn't come in. (His begging for water can be rather obnoxious, particularly when I just want a moment with my thoughts.) But when I opened the door when I was done, he didn't come darting in. I started to realize that it'd been quite a long time since I'd seen him. I asked Josh if he had seen him; he hadn't, and the panic started to rise. We checked the house, shook the catfood, and he didn't come. I realized I hadn't seen him since we'd come inside with the girls, around 5:00. I went outside and called and called and called; he didn't come, but the sobbing did, along with the realization that he had gotten out while we were coming in, and he was gone.

We looked for two hours. Josh took the car and drove around the neighborhood, slowly shining the headlights into the woods and calling for him. I called my family and blabbered incoherently between sobs that he's gone, he's gone, he got outside and he's gone. We dinged a catfood can until it was dented and peered desperately into the darkness to see a little flash of white running towards us. I took a flashlight and walked up and down our road, calling his name and crying. My hand turned red in the cold, and the air swirled in the beam's dim light, but there was no Winston. No familiar meow, no quick padding of feet in my direction--nothing but darkness and silence. Josh took the car out again, and I sat at the back door, willing Winston to just show up. I tried praying, but mostly I cried. An hour later, Josh came home with nothing more than a headache to show for his searching. With nothing more to do, we sat a bowl of food on the back porch and, for the first time in 10 years, I went to bed without my cat by my side, devastated.

Ellie came skipping into our room around 5:00am the next morning, and as I pulled her into bed, I thought about how we would look for Winston after breakfast. And then, as she settled back to sleep, we heard a sound at the back door. It was the sound Chappu makes when a stray wanders into "his" yard--headbutting the glass, and hissing--so Josh got up and I held my breath. I heard him whisper, "Winston! Get in here!" and then the door shut, and Josh came back into the bedroom. I sat up in a hopeful panic. "Was that him?!?" And Josh smiled and said, "Yeah. Little a-hole is home."

He's sleeping on the other end of the couch as I write this, his little head tucked underneath him. He has had a ridiculous amount of shower water to quench his thirst, and almost an entire can of wet catfood all to himself. And I don't regret any of the spoiling he's gotten, because on Friday night, my heart was broken, and now it's whole again.