Same-same

I get slap-happy, giddy and fairy dust comes spitting out the ends of my hair when I see my babies loving on each other. 

While their gap is nearly 7 years, Burl still feels deeply connected to Lark and treasures snuggle time. As I was grabbing the camera, I remembered when I used to do the exact same thing with Burl. Same age, same chair, same onesie, same ornamental-style cheeks:

What a powerful memory!

Take Cover Picnic

Too much rain combined with too much energy sent us on a random picnic recently. 

We found a covered pavilion on the river, wedged between the dam and a railroad track bridge thingy. We were surrounded by rain. The kids had freedom to stay under cover or run around like crazy people. Crazy people, for the win!

A runner passed us with a comprehensive statement, "you must have really been desperate to get out of the house." Pretty much, sir. Burl said that it was a lot more fun than what he thought. I love our summer freedom!

From Our 4th To Yours

I'm popping in with Lark to say "happy 4th from our 4th." 

Who doesn't love a baby? Our whole house adores our fourth child. He appreciates attention and gets excited when Ridge or Mama come in the room. (Some days I think he prefers Ridge over me.) 

He's a hard sell when it comes to smiling. His intense and constant observation of his surroundings coats him in a veil of seriousness. That doesn't stop us from trying. Each of us, in our own ways, work hard to make him smile, then we celebrate when he gifts us with that gummy, toothless, open mouth smile. 

Happy 4th from our 4th (child)!

Watermelon At Twilight

With its longer days and buggy sounds, summer invites us outside to stay up later and linger with the sun. We all know this, a tale as old as time. As watermelons drop in price and rise in sweetness, I will cut them up and throw them in a bowl. We all head outside for dinner's dessert. Watermelons outside just make sense-partly for the romance of it but mostly because Mama don't want that drippy mess inside! 

I don't have personal memories of this myself, nevertheless it triggers childhood nostalgia. (So does Fern in her bathing suit-I loved wearing my bathing suit as clothes when I was a little girl.)

Neighbors stop by and we share some more. My kids eat three slices to their one. We can't stop, we won't stop. While the pulp covers their faces and juice runs down their forearms, I tell myself that the mess doesn't own me. If they stand over me and eat and drip, they wake the dragon. DO NOT DRIP ON MAMA!

Then I can't help the cuteness and grab whoever walks in arm lengths of me and scoop them in for a hug. A sweaty, sticky, drippy, smiley, happy hug. Next year, we look forward to Lark joining us-eating and staying up late!