Is This Miami?

Our summer is so unfairly short. We have to head for the beach every 75+ degree day we can.

Water babies at Lake Elmo.

Childlike

Grandma Marge. She does it all without caffeine, people.

The Reason Little Girls' Skirts Come With Bloomers

I don't know why "Ability to go down a slide by him-/herself" isn't on the Denver Developmental Screening. It should be. Seems like a major milestone to me.

No One is Looking

The kids go for a leisurely walk through the park together, arm in arm, right?
No, he's gearing up to shove her.

See?

Fine. Be a Princess. See if I Care.

I keep trying to make this claim that I'm raising my tots in the most gender neutral way I know how. Um, who am I fooling? I not only dress my little girl up in a tutu (which I did not buy for her, for the record - if that matters), but then I find it so adorable that I take a thousand pictures.

I quote Noah, quoting me, "You have got to be kidding me."

Up!

Generally, I love one and a half almost as much as I love three. She's lovely, she's sweet, she says a hundred barely intelligible things. But this,


Greta, this is super exhausting, and frankly, getting a little old.

Detergent

Ava's baptism. Yeah, it was like a month ago. Don't judge.
Grandma Marge brilliantly had a dozen bottles of bubbles waiting for the toddlers. A huge hit.
80 percent spilled on the lawn. 100 percent fun.



(just like Matthew Sweet)

Who's the Boss

Another thing I love about three: bossiness. Or maybe that's the fire sign in him. Either way, it's hard not to crack up when he tells me which pair of flip flops to wear or, my favorite, "You NEVER talk back to me, Mom!" I've never said that. I swear.

Approaching the Speed of Light

Have I mentioned that three is my favorite age ever? The cuteness, the busy-ness, the imagination, the absolute adoration of me, the potty-trained-ness. I'll even take the endless stream of chatter and the occasional unprovoked sister shove. I've asked Noah to stay exactly this age forever. He's thinking it over.