Beatrix has been attempting to drink from a glass for a couple of months now. Mostly, she's been dribbling, intaking very little actual water.  Last night though, I let go of my need for situation control and I let her take hold of her own glass. She's been trying to drink the bathtub water with her plastic cup at bathtime. So I knew her awareness was peaking.  At dinner time, she uses tiny tumblers that I found at Ikea. I think each glass holds between 1 to 2 ounces. Still I pour less than the glass's capacity so that it really only has a tablespoon or so of water. I have to admit, I cringed at the thought of her pouring the water everywhere on her and the thought of the glass dropping (flying) to the floor.  I held my breath and let her go. She did great. Like she was perfectly ready for this new level of independence.  She sipped every last drop with no dribbling.  She was "emphatic" that she wanted more. Protested when I took the glass to refill. And pleased with her new skills when she saw her glass full with water again.  

Beatrix is eight months old today. Her newest discovery is waving. She waves at everyone and everything. Today the front door was open and the breeze was blowing. She waved at the swaying branches. Gosh, I just love that little sack of sugar. 

The other day while grocery shopping, I saw a woman who looked as though she were  near the end of her pregnancy.  She had no other children in her cart. I assumed she was pregnant with her firstborn. And I didn't think about being pregnant. Or how I wished to be pregnant. I didn't wonder what the experience was like. I didn't feel sad. I didn't think about it really.  What I did think about (as Beatrix was nuzzling my shoulder) was all the new, wonderful life chapters that were about to begin in this woman's life. All the good stuff.

When I look at Beatrix, there's no way I can yearn for a child coming into our life any other way than the way she did.  How could another birth story be any sweeter? A love deeper? A joy more complete? Not to say, that giving birth is any less special. Oh no, I know it is just as sweet. And not to dismiss the loss involved in adoption. That's real too. But maybe I've come to terms with the idea that the path of meeting your child and becoming a family is special no matter how.  There's just something about this blossoming end product that makes one lose focus on the process!

The little family took our annual drive to Lost Maples State Park this weekend.  This would be our third year.  The years before, we always hiked in and camped.  This year, since the wee one's main mode of transportation is the army crawl and her favorite hobby is stuffing her mouth with all sorts of non-edible materials, we thought a day hike would suit our rhythm best.  

So we drove and drove.  A little over three hours. Just to see the most vibrant patch of tree color in our land. Yes, quite a hike for maples don't you think? Oh, I'm a determined Autumn enthusiast. Beatrix napped on the way there. And I was so ready for a nice, long walk along and over streams and river stones, down into canyon areas, up into higher elevations. Admiring the color, listening to the birds, crunching through leaves - and perhaps even collecting a few so that the children would be able to make leave collage placemats...  

We arrived near the park entrance only to be stopped by bumper to bumper traffic. Cars lined up for a hundred yards. We dutifully waited our turn to enter the park. Once we made it in, we approached the welcome building. Another long line of people maybe 50 or so deep - waiting for their park entrance pass. We both looked at each other.  Neither one of us enjoy being around large groups of strangers. We knew what the other was thinking. "Stand in line to go hiking?"  "Wha?"  So we left.  That's right. We escaped all those people and cars and slow moving lines and made our way back home. We picnicked at a road side rest stop that had cell phone towers built up right behind it. That was the extent of our day in nature. We saw some really big ants there with a seemingly sophisticated colony and trail system.  Beatrix rolled around in the grass for a bit (but not near the ant colony). 
 

Sometimes it's hard to maintain this blog the way I'd like to. Our seasonal calendar in these parts just isn't always in sync with those who live north, east, and west of us. Yesterday, the weather felt more like late summer than late fall.. Our leaves turn mostly brown and then whither to the ground sometimes near the beginning of December. It's difficult to explain to preschoolers as we read through seasonal books. We work real hard to observe the ever so subtle changes in nature around here. This town has lots going for it - just not vibrant seasons.  I was reminded of that last night as I watched this Texan band perform on Austin City Limits.  Boy, that was just what I needed to get me out of my self pity for not experiencing a true autumn for yet another year.  

We carved our pumpkin today.  Beatrix participated fully.  What fun it is to see her explore the pumpkin as it was transformed into a jack o' lantern.  

First she felt the rigid and bumpy skin. 

And then the rough stem. 

Daddy carved. 

The pieces of pumpkin became intriguing objects in which to explore: to touch and to taste. 

I have no costume photos of Bea to post. I had a great idea for a costume.  But my long list of to do's for the week dictated that the costume stay behind. But honestly, I was okay with not being able to make her one.  I consoled my failed attempts by reminding myself that baby costumes are all about photo ops.  She goes to sleep before trick or treating starts. She has no understanding of the holiday. She has no older siblings to tag along with. She can't even eat the candy.  And -- I got my Halloween photo op even without a costume.