For the first time in 2025, we are nearing a semblance of our normal routine. The kids still have stuffy noses and my dad and I are finishing our rounds of antibiotics, but we are regaining our full energy and health.

The TV has been on way too much as a matter of survival, and my reading and making habits sadly declined as I spent most of my limited free time napping or scrolling Instagram. Now that we’ve mostly recovered, we’re finally reinstating healthy boundaries around screen time. I also plan to delete Instagram and Facebook for Lent! Little steps towards being more intentional with our time.

We did have an exciting weekend, however. Jake and I were on our way to a breakfast date for my birthday/Valentine’s Day…and we ended up turning around on a highway to save a dog instead.

Jake snapped these pictures of me, his crazy wife, wading through and around a drainage ditch to get to him. The poor little guy was soaked and shivering, and had a few puncture wounds that looked like they may have come from a coyote attack. I wrapped him in a blanket and we took him home to clean his wounds and give him some food.

We were going to try to drop him at a shelter…but he’s so sweet and gets along so well with all the other animals and kids, he’s made himself right at home with us. We still are going to see if he’s got a microchip and see if anyone’s reported him missing or is looking for him at shelters — but given his state, we think he was probably abandoned.

So, his name is now Felix (from the Latin word for lucky). We aren’t sure what type of dog he is: he’s small and long and coarse haired, and seems like he might be a terrier. He’s staying days at our house and nights at my parents’ house, given they have room for a kennel. Michael especially loves helping “take care of Felix”. And everyone else is absolutely smitten, whether they’d admit it or not.

Almost all of our pets have been ones that either turn up on our doorstep or we rescue from peril, and they all come to us at just the right time. Our beloved Bandit passed away a while ago, and now it looks like Felix is here to join our little homestead.

It reminds me of a scene from one of my favorite books, Madeline L’Engle’s A Swiftly Tilting Planet.

“Aren’t you going to get another dog?”

“Eventually. The right one hasn’t turned up yet.”

“Couldn’t you go look for a dog?”

Mr. Murry looked up from the tesseract. “Our dogs usually come to us.”

Our little Beatrice is 11 months old, and her personality is bubbly and vibrant. She won’t take any crap from her older brother and shrieks to make sure he knows it. She still isn’t walking — she has taken steps here and there, but still prefers crawling. She has learned how to climb up on chairs, couches, and even the little table — usually she does so with a triumphant crow.

She stands by herself often and uses the little chairs as walkers around the kitchen too. Her favorite game is “bonk”, very much like Michael at this age: she gently touches her forehead to your forehead and waits for you to say “bonk” — then giggles and repeats. She loves banana, ground beef, and anything her brother is eating.

Michael is growing up so quickly. We’ve been reading longer books together, and right now he loves Mike Mulligan and His Steam Shovel, as well as a handful of fairy tales like Jan Brett’s Goldilocks and the Three Bears and Trina Schart Hymen’s Little Red Riding Hood. He enjoys making “packages” of magnatiles and playing mailman, and his newest game is “Cookie Factory”, where he pretends his bedroom is a cookie factory.

We celebrated my birthday earlier this month in a quiet way, given everyone was still recovering from illness. It was a lovely day, despite being sick and our plans changing last minute. Jake got me beautiful flowers and a book I’d been wanting, as well as a new e-spinner for plying my yarn. My mom made me a delicious London Fog cake. I felt very loved. As a stay-at-home-mom it’s easy to feel isolated from most of the world, especially in the midst of these crazy illnesses. I’m very grateful to everyone who reached out to wish me many happy returns.

I finished plying that handspun yarn I wrote about in my last post, and fell in love with it so much that I cast on a Traveler Cowl with it immediately, before it even fully dried (though I don’t recommend doing that).

I also finished a quick worsted weight spin from a rustic Romney wool that will eventually become another hat for Michael. It was a bit rough — I’m not very good at chain-plying yet — but I still love the colors and it’s still knittable.

I’ve been knitting a lot but haven’t finished anything: lots of bouncing between projects depending on my energy levels. My handspun Traveler cowl is growing well and I love the shifting colors. It’s nice and lightweight, so I’ll be able to wear it in the spring when I finish it. To cope with being down with the flu last week, I cast on another sweater — the Ranunculus sweater. I’m knitting it out of a cotton/linen yarn and going to make it short sleeved, so I can wear it this summer.

I’ve been spending a lot more of my free time writing, which has been a huge blessing to me. I finished a short story and I’m working on another. I’m also reading the Westmark trilogy by Lloyd Alexander, Jade City by Fonda Lee, and a collection of essays by Peter Maurin (who worked closely with Dorothy Day).

I feel like I’m slowly getting my spark back after the ultra-marathon of pregnancy and postpartum. Even though we’re still not sleeping through the night, both Michael’s and Bea’s sleeping habits have gotten a little better and Bea’s nursing less and less. The illness is abating, the sun is shining more frequently, and we made some choices to lighten the stress on our family — both Jake and I finally feel as though we’re shifting out of survival mode.

The daffodils are starting to pop up in my flower garden: little yellow buds of hope amongst the weeds of my overrun garden. There’s so much to do to maintain our little homestead it can feel overwhelming, but I’m grateful for the good work that lies ahead of us as we prepare for spring and for Lent — both manual labor and spiritual labor.

There is much that is heavy and despairing in the world. But I see Felix’s grateful puppy eyes, and hear the giggles of my babies playing together, and I’m reminded that there’s so much good, too. Children, puppies, flowers; sunsets. And the daffodils that pop up year after year.