There you are, October. I’ve been waiting for you.

I’ve been looking forward to my favorite month all summer. I’m embracing the fall vibes wholeheartedly — even if the temperatures refuse to comply. We’ve been in a heat wave of 100+ temperatures (as high as 105) which has made fall baking a bit difficult. Hopefully next week we finally have some cooler weather.

We moved into our little cottage two years ago in October. As the sun sinks earlier in the sky, its golden light traces the bookshelves and icon corner and reminds me of our first days in our home. I have a renewed gratitude for this little sanctuary as I remember those times.

Michaelmas was at the end of September, and we had a mixed berry cheesecake to celebrate our Michael. Even though the Eastern Orthodox calendar celebrates the Archangel Michael in a different month, we also celebrate Michael’s name day by the Western Orthodox calendar, given he’s named (in part) for the Western Rite parish where Jake and I met.

Beatrice turned seven months old at the beginning of the month — I can hardly believe how big she’s gotten. She babbles constantly, crawls everywhere, and wants to be standing or pulling herself up at all times. She recently even pulled herself up onto the couch. Her new favorite trick is sticking her tongue out when she smiles.

Whatever Michael is doing, she wants to do too. We’ve had to extricate quite a few trucks and trains from her lightning-quick grasp.

She still hasn’t popped any teeth, though she fusses and pulls at her ears and drools a lot and has newly abysmal sleeping patterns. We’re fervently hoping that she sprouts those teeth soon and we get some better sleep.

We’ve started introducing solids — she especially loves sweet potatoes and applesauce. It’s helped with making family dinners a more peaceful affair: Michael no longer fights sitting at the table for longer periods of time because he enjoys watching his sister attempt to eat different foods.

Michael seems to have turned another developmental corner. His speech is becoming clearer and more complex, and his imaginative play is a delight to eavesdrop on. He’s got some adorable quirks. Instead of saying “what do you think?” when showing off artwork or anything he’s working on, he’ll say “How you think?”

Some of his recent toddlerisms include:

Me: Michael, you’re a pretty cool kid.

Michael: I am indeed!

“I don’t want to be on the freeway. I want to be on the STOPway.” — said on the long drive home from church.

“I eat food because I have a mouth. A big mouth!”

Michael: *making me play food* This is ALL for you, my dear!

Michael: Beatrice is out of your belly?

Me: Yep, no more babies in mama’s belly.

Michael:….you should buy another one!

Michael: *standing by the toaster* My bagel popped! Good job bagel, good job.

We’ve been making a lot of high protein breakfast muffins (recipe here), and Michael loves helping. He does most of the steps by himself and counts out the number of cups of the different ingredients. His favorite part is still licking the bowl and stealing chocolate chips.

I bottled up our vanilla extract that’s been brewing since January — it smells heavenly. I also dried the leftover vanilla beans and added them to a few cups of sugar, to bake with or make simple syrup.

Although we haven’t been able to be outside much due to the extreme temperatures, we’ve been enjoying early mornings on the porch and evenings in the shade. Michael plays with his animals, trucks, and sensory bins, Beatrice plays with different noisy dishes, and I get a few minutes to read or knit.

I’ve picked up my knitting with renewed passion. I finished my Felix Cardigan: it had been languishing in a project bag for almost a year. When I began making it, I was pregnant and unhappy with the way it fit my body. I pulled it out a few weeks ago with the intent of unraveling it, tried it on, and realized it fit me really well. So I knit the remaining sleeve and button band and now have a cozy sweater for winter. I also dusted off my mauve Weekender Sweater, which is now my evening mindless knitting project.

I finished my 12 oz combo spin and am very happy with the end result. It’s squishy, jewel-toned, and autumnal. I have two large skeins (approx 600 yards). When I finish a few of my works in progress, I’ll cast on a shawl with it. I also cut out a pair of Chanterelle pants to sew when I get a chance.

I’ve been on a yarn purchasing moratorium since January, and I’m proud to say I’ve managed not to purchase any new yarn in 2024 — despite harrowing temptations. This means I’m getting creative and stash-diving for the kids’ Christmas knits. I’m planning to knit Michael a classic cabled vest (or jacket, depending on how much yarn I have) and Beatrice a caplet. I made the mistake of mentioning to Michael was knitting him a jacket…now he asks if it’s finished and if he can try it on nearly every day.

We had a few rough days with baby sleep and toddler tantrums recently, so that threw us off our routine. We are slowly getting back to limiting screen time, slowly starting to implement our morning rituals again, and slowly returning to a more mindful and intentional way of approaching each day.

I still have to remind myself not to beat myself up over these frequent setbacks. We’ve had a lot of screen time, and lost many of our previous rituals as I work to survive Beatrice’s new sleep patterns. As I may have mentioned, I’m a recovering perfectionist. It’s a bad habit that parenting has really helped break: being a perfectionist parent is a fast road to burnout and despair.

Right now, to combat perfectionism and burnout and despair, I try to hold two things at the front of my mind: presence and repair. In the end, those are the things that matter most. It’s not the amount of Little Bear my toddler watches when I’m sleep deprived: it’s the way I still sit with him and snuggle him, or make sure we have one-on-one creative time later. It’s not the number of times I lose my temper: it’s the way I apologize and ask forgiveness when I do.

This realization has given me a little light in my own spiritual life. Presence and repair are the things that matter most in my faith as well: presence and attendance in the life of the Church, and repair and repentance when I fall away from the Church’s teachings. I might not be in a place right now to attend every church service or keep strict fasts, but I can show up to do daily prayers alongside my toddler. I might be struggling with the weight of my sins, illuminated by sleeplessness and the magnifying glass of parenting, but confession and repentance repair the rift and bring me closer to God and to wholeness.

So onwards I go, toddling along in my own journey of holiness beside these little souls.