excuse me while i wax poetic.

fall does something to me.

the sights and sounds of the season awake my senses in a way that make me feel as if they have been hibernating for too many months.

the smells, both inside and out.  the colors.  the feeling in the air.  the cozy comfort of being bundled up, whether in a warm coat and hat, or in a comfy blanket.  the day turning into night faster.  the smell from the furnace when it kicks on those first few times.  putting the down comforter on the bed.  spiced cider.  waking up to frost on the grass.  snuggling, with the whole family, on the couch underneath thick blankets.

those things are all wonderful, they all evoke a happy, contented feeling in me, but the thing that I am really thinking of, the thing that consumes my mind the majority of this wonderful time, are the wonderful first memories of motherhood.  the poignant memories of all those firsts.  these thoughts, while they make me feel happy, leave me feeling homesick at the same time.

homesick for those firsts, for the simple days of being home, with the world entirely shut outside, with a new little person.  life was so much simpler then. 

both lynn and ash were born in the fall.  I was pregnant with all three girls in the fall.  for me, fall will always hold that feeling of new life, being pregnant (and loving every second of it), anticipating the exciting arrival of a new little person, soon to enter our home.  all of the fun preparations and the anticipation are feelings I still feel when this season hits.

lynn being born, all of those firsts, are linked with the colors outside, that crisp scent to the air.  smelling and seeing these things takes me back to becoming a mother, feeling so fulfilled and joyful.  these are also connected to ashley’s birth, and life becoming just a little more complicated, but entirely enjoyable, with our little family, in our little house, with everything else shut out.  it was just us, and it was sweet.

I crave my children being small, being home.  the days before our home was opened to the world, to school, to other people’s thoughts, beliefs, and ideas.  when our time was our own, we had to answer to no one.  there was no such thing as homework, or difficult situations dealing with children that aren’t in our family, all of those other outside influences.  I miss being able to load up, go to grandma’s house for the day, staying there and playing, talking, maybe working on a quilt or other project, coming home in time to make dinner.  we had nothing else holding us down.  I miss the days when it was all so much simpler. 

there was nothing better than snuggling a baby all day long.  no chore more pleasant than taking care of that baby, nursing and changing diapers, rocking and singing lullabies.  the days went all too fast and left memories all too sweet.

there is also something to be said for the preparatory phase of a new one’s arrival.  the only thing as fulfilling as taking care of that infant was preparing our home for their arrival.  cleaning, decorating, washing and folding the tiny laundry, getting our home ready for a new person.  that was the meaning of life to me.

it still is.  and while the tiny ones aren’t so tiny anymore, I still love the life I live.  I still embrace every season of life, I know I have a lot to look forward to, but I can’t help that fall makes me feel homesick for those early days.