Not Exactly Zen

I eased my 34-weeks-pregnant body into camel pose gingerly and arched my back, trying to remember to get a deep breath or two into my space-constrained lungs at the same time. Finley, now a full-blown walker, teetered around the living room, seemingly content with her search for sharp and dangerous things that may have rolled under the furniture. I had taken a big gamble on trying to finish up my workout in the company of Finley while Seth jumped on the water rower in the basement. It had been a long day of housework and baby prep projects and dealing with the newly-christened Finley bin Laden (we have recently become acquainted with temper tantrums, and they are not our favorite thing) while we both tried to get papers written and homework assignments knocked out. Mind-clearing workouts were a must if we wanted all three of us to make it to bedtime, and it seemed like we might actually be able to pull this off.

Suddenly I felt a sharp pain in my side, and I turned my head to see a drooling, grinning Finley, sharp little teeth bared at me. She had bitten me, hard, for no reason, right in the middle of my desperate search for zen. It seemed kind of apropos, somehow. Yoga was officially over.

We're smack dab in the middle of final countdown to babywatch these days, and the stars have aligned for this delightful period of "oh shit, we need to buy diapers, and where did we put the breast pump tubing, again?" to coincide with the onset of the early terrible twos, some serious late night teething fun, and the end of the school calendar for both of us. It's utter chaos, to say the least. (This is a rare quiet weekend moment, post-backyard golf and subsequent inexplicable meltdown, when we remembered the magical power of bubbles.)

Luckily, Mom and Dad are still around, and we've been milking that for all it's worth. They've been staying down at Belvoir and always have a full hiking schedule, but when the chips are down they show up and whisk Finley off somewhere, and she comes home exhausted and stuffed full of sweet potatoes and peanut butter sandwiches (her and Ata's fave.)

They took her to the zoo on Saturday, and Seth and I not only got papers written, we also had a lunch date at a restaurant that did not have crayons. (I don't have a picture of that, but I do have this amazing one of Finley on her new tricycle from Ana & Ata, which is a death trap at her age so of course she loves it.)

I picked her up after I finished up at the library, and managed to catch a little bit of fresh air, this incredible sunset at Accotink,

and one of my favorite sights (or, as Missy calls it, "what we all look like after a day with Mom & Dad.")

At any rate, we're all hanging in there and the weather has taken a turn for the gorgeous, so I think Finley's back at the zoo (she's a big fan of the seals) while Seth and I are locked away in class. Lucky little beast. Life continues to be good, if a tad frenetic, and Finley- enjoying her last month+ as an only child- keeps us on our toes and laughing. Her newest fun trick is helping herself to whatever she finds in the fridge while I'm making dinner, which makes us incredibly glad we buy organic produce. I didn't catch her the first time until she had taken a bite out of every single apple.

And the photo of the week is of Finley's first frozen yogurt. She's had bites of mine before, but never gotten her own until this weekend. It definitely took her a few hilarious bites to get used to how cold it was. And then, of course, she licked the bottom of the bowl.