Bath time is one of Goen's favorite events of the day.  As soon as David or I say "It's time for your bath," he perks up and heads straight for the gate by the stairs.  When the gate is opened, he bounds up the stairs as fast as he can.  His bath toys are always placed on the edge of the counter nearest the bathroom so he can reach them himself.  He gets so much joy from grabbing them one at a time and throwing them in the tub.  The process of removing his clothes never goes fast enough for him and he tries to get in the water before his diaper is off.

David is usually the one to sit with him during his bath so I can get everything ready for bed (or steal a few minutes to write a few more lines in a blog post).  He always moves the crocheted rug (which I made from a couple bed sheets and is very cushy) from in front of the vanity sink to kneel on by the tub.  I listen to them while I straighten the blankets on the bed.  Perhaps it is because my husband has done all this before with his first son, but he always makes the bath seem like a fun game.  When I do it, I can't help getting annoyed at my glasses getting splashed for the umpteenth time or getting my nightshirt wet just before bed.

Goen has always enjoyed baths.  When he was small enough to fit in the extra-wide sink in our cabin, I would hold him with my hands under his head and shoulders and let him float in the water.  When he outgrew that, I would do the same thing in the claw foot tub (one of the many things I miss about our little cabin in the woods).  And I'll never forget the time a couple months ago when he ran so fast through the hallway to the bathroom that he flipped right over the side of the tub.  It happened so fast that David, who was sitting on the edge of the tub, wasn't able to act fast enough to stop him from tumbling in.  Luckily there was only an inch of water in there so he didn't go under.  And the non-slip mat padded his fall so he didn't get any bruises.  He cried briefly, but then took his bath like usual.

The bath time routine has also made getting him to sleep much easier.  David dries him and then hands him off to me.  We try not to let his feet touch the ground once he is out of the bath, otherwise he tends to get a second wind and start running around again.  I snap his diaper on and then crawl into bed.  And that is one routine I can really get into.

This past week has been a mixed bag.  There has been some good and some bad and some in-between.  In no particular order:

I discovered two new-to-me fabric companies and three fabric designers that I absolutely love.  The first fabric company is Windham Fabrics.  They print fabrics designed by Jessica Levitt and Kim Andersson, whose first collection comes out in January.  I discovered the third designer, Eloise Renouf, on Instagram, then visited her Etsy shop.  I loved her designs so much that I messaged her to ask if she designed fabric.  She responded back directing me to check out her collections on Cloud 9 Fabrics.  All these designers have collections that are inspired by nature; realistic, but with a whimsical feel.  I have already chosen several that I would like to use for a quilt I am planning for my little one.

Somehow, wool-eating insects (carpet beetles, apparently) got into my house.  I noticed them Sunday evening while picking up toys.  They had made dinner out of poor Mr. Fox.  He is now recuperating in the freezer, along with my handstitched nuthatch (so far untouched), just in case there are more bugs on/in them.  It was a very sad thing to see my hard work full of small holes that will inevitably become bigger unless I patch them up.  Mr. Fox's beautiful face is gone forever.

Our second wedding anniversary was Friday.  I made a delicious red curry with peppers and kabucha squash over rice.  I had planned to make an apple crisp for dessert but ran out of time.  I made it the next night instead.  Although we were celebrating two years, we have actually been together for over six.  It felt strange not to recognize the other four just because we hadn't said "I do" yet.

Saturday's dinner of barbecued chicken legs was left on the grill for about three hours too long, becoming something more like "charbecue."  It's a long story, but the end result was hours of work for my husband to clean the cast iron grates.  Luckily, I remembered that night was the moms' club Halloween party that I had RSVP'd for over a week ago.  They served a delicious dinner of serve-yourself soft tacos.  I had also volunteered to man the craft table for an hour, which was... interesting.  The crafts were of the "this is how you do it" variety.  Coloring pages and markers, foam pumpkins and stickers, string and beads.  Pretty generic stuff.  But I have never seen such concentrated chaos.  Five to ten kids at a time, some with a parent, all reaching for something while spilling something else and leaving everything out when they left.

I came up with a name for my future farm (should it become a reality) only to find out from a Google search that it has already been used as a blog name.  The blogger only published a single post about a year ago and then quit.  Maybe, if I succeed in my goal, she will let me have it and I can blog about my adventures as I continue my quest for self-sufficiency.

My sister had surgery.  It was minor, but still scary.  There is nothing like a medical experience to make you think about how things would be if...  Luckily everything turned out fine.

I am getting close to finishing my entry for the Wise Craft Handmade contest.  I used up some fabric from my stash and have only purchased embroidery floss for it.  It should be done in the next few days (assuming I get enough baby-free time to actually touch my sewing machine). 

Our 50mm camera lens, which I use almost exclusively, quit focusing on anything more than five feet away, probably as a result of being dropped six months ago.  I'm not sure what to do about it.  I can't afford a new one, and I'm not sure paying someone too fix it will result in a more usable lens for the long term.  In the meantime, I'm limping along and hoping my subject stays close.

I had several very strange and disturbing dreams.  One involved crash landing on a dark, glacial island surrounded by frothy ocean water and inhabited by werewolves.  In another I chipped a tooth.  And last night I dreamed of my childhood nemesis.

It was a very busy week, this one.  Busy enough to make me miss the slow, mundane, even boring days I'm used to.  But, hey, life is always mixing it up for us.  It's what keeps things interesting.