What a pleasure it was to work with this little one. He was close to our hearts before he was even born, and just has the most amazing family. Thank you, M&J for allowing me to chronicle his beginnings.
"Simple" adjective - single, having one ingredient, plain.
Our simple minutes are what define us.
They are what others judge us by.
Most of our encounters with people are brief -- simple -- and it is the only chance we get to show our true colors.
Then there are the others. The others we choose to share our simple minutes with and the others we must share our simple minutes with. What we often forget is that the standards by which we are judged are constant and anything but simple.
We take our families to work just as we bring work home to our families -- no matter how much we try not to.
Everything we do and have done are a part of who we are.
Difficulties do not produce character. They reveal them. (*1) We are both trusted and forgiven based on who reveal ourselves to be, especially when times are tough.
I began my day before sunrise, woken by a woman's frantic screams. I lie there, not sure if what I am hearing is what I think it is. Between the river levee and traffic, it is difficult to tell where the screams were coming from. I called police. I've heard nothing thus far.
Aya Rose had a presentation to make in front of other third grade homeschoolers. She did a biography on Joan of Arc. It was her best presentation to date. I am glowing proud of her.
I went grocery shopping and got yummies for a picnic. New neighborhood + sunny days = exploring. Ever since our bike ride to the ice cream shop the other day, Eden has been on me to take them to a park we rode by because it has a skate park included and she wanted to try her Rip Stick on the quarter pipe. I don't think I could grow the pair needed to attempt that feat.
Meanwhile, my little bear was picking flowers for Mama.
Aya Rose thought it would be a good idea to ride her 1970s cruiser on the quarter pipe.
Yep. :::sigh::: That's a training wheel.
Ya think it might be time to take off those training wheels.
I think, at this point, they're more for me than they are for him. Anyway, after riding all the different ramps they had, he found a new game to play.
First we must get traction. Crocs do not have good traction on the skate ramps. Must ditch the Crocs.
He knows a good view when he sees one.
Oh, these simple minutes. They make life so rich, don't they?
I'm just doing stuff...stuff that would make me seem anal to a relatively un-anal person. Anal is a nasty word. I think I'm going to need a shower after typing it three times. Scrub my anals. You should scrub your anals too. Anals.
Why the long face? (She's purdy but she has anal breath.)
She was playing with my BlackBerry. I'm anal about who touches that thing.
She is just a gorgeous one. If you ask her dad, he'll tell you, "Thank you. I made her myself."
Getting ready to ride home on his "Ooom-ooom." (That's his motorcycle sound. His bicycle looks like a motorcycle.)
Is it just me, or does he look like a brown-eyed Robert Pattinson here?
Thanks for indulging me in my documenting of today's annals.
I had three events last weekend that I photographed and some glitch caused the memory card to want to be formatted. Knowing what that means, I left recovery up to the professionals.
Thankfully, I had an eventful day with my camera today and have spent my evening doing what I enjoy...going through my photographs.
What kinds of butt sores do polar bears get?
I suppose Poloroids this old ought to be checked.
Our girls had two of their besties over. They'll be spending a couple days with us while their parents spend Valentine's Day together and attend Mom's monthly standing tattoo appointment in The City. (Her tattoos are amazing. I will cork a bottle of wine and talk her into letting me photograph them one day.)
Four girls + One boy = 1 left-out boy. I, in my room plucking my eyebrows, was approached by my 3-year old, his head hanging down, lips puffed out, "The girls don't want play with me. They said they want girly time. I want be girly time too," he says. I gave him a short script of words to say to them and he walks away and knocks on our daughter's bedroom door. "May I come in? I want be girly time, too. I be good girly girl. I play too? Please?"
Can you believe those heartless girls sent him stepping???
He comes back in and asks if I will play girly time with him. How could I say no?
I take him into my big closet that has a section just for couture children's clothing (not to be mistaken for the large antique trunk that is full of other dress-up clothing downstairs.) He chose a brightly-colored outfit that I designed about 7 years ago.
I would share, but something tells me my husband would not appreciate that very much.
Hmm...maybe if I cork a bottle of wine -- nevermind. Need. Responsible. Adult. Supervision.
We took a walk across the street to the river levee. Mosquitos...EVERYWHERE! (Remember Pig Pen from Peanuts with the flies all around him? Yeah! That's what I'm talkin' about!) People zooming by on their motorcycles and in their old convertibles. Have they no respect for a chick with a camera? Really!
The Brat Pack finds bugs...and LOTS of them.
Aya Rose must've thought she was going to find a groom at the river or something because she refused to put down this fake bouquet.
Too cool for props of her own.
Ever-Bear offers up some poisonous berries to his doppleganger.
Ever and "A"stand together at the top of a flight of stairs.He just adores her so. A lady five years his senior.
Too cool for school. Okay. So what if it's a Saturday.
Don't let this tough exterior fool you. She will DEFINITELY kick your butt.
Mary Poppinses (that's proper pluralization, correct?) Sans umbrellas, of course.