The signature of summer

In our family, summer has a certain signature since Jason is home for eight weeks. If we ever question whether Jason should have become an educator, we stop questioning in late June.

Summer means:

My house is an absolute wreck
Bikes and fishing gear litter the porch
Jason stays up past midnight every night - tying up flies for our next outing or reading fishing reports
I begrudgingly go to work each morning . . . as the boys rub their eyes and curl up in the windowseat

A teaching career has its downsides, but the summer always makes up for it.

Boy clothes

I have been drafting a post in my mind about the dismal selection of clothes for boys.

I am so tired of blue, brown, and gray. Where are the bright greens? How about some purple and  yellow?

Can I get something that represents my little guy and can I get a break from the trucks/large mammals/sports motif?

And then I discovered this store: Loveitloveitloveit.

http://www.loveitloveitloveit.co.uk/

And I love it. I bought the yellow track pants below and I can't wait.

Happy birthday Auntie Jenny!

Firsts

First parade

First skis

First bike

My masterpiece

Hiking at Crescent Lake

This was my sisterhood in the woods weekend - a tradition started last year because I love being in the woods and I love my ladies.

And, because I want be an old lady with good stories of an adventurous life.

Last year we packed into Cape Alava on the Washington coast and it was a great trip.

This year we climbed Pyramid Peak and spent the evening soaking in the mineral pools at the charming Sol Duc Resort. Went to bed early. Drank too much coffee. Had a blast.

Spirit birds

When Truman was a baby, our friends Brooke and James told us that their daughter's spirit bird was a magpie.

We weren't sure what a spirt bird was, but we knew we had to have one.

The obvious choice was the chickadee, the most friendly, tiny, and approachable bird in our yard. We often point out different birds to Truman and he refers to the chickadee as "my bird."

We put up a little feeder against his bedroom window and the first bird to arrive was the chickadee. It is so friendly, it lets Truman get right up to the glass for a close look.

So I finally googled "spirit bird" before I wrote this post. The first website I clicked on included a description for each bird. The Chickadee is "the bird of truth". Truman means "True Man." :) Meant to be.

Thinking about getting some chickadee artwork like this for Truman's room.

The Art of Eating Spaghetti

By Patrick McSweeney

1. Evaluate the texture

2. Check the taste

3. Clean your plate 

4. Wipe your face

5. Burp with satisfaction

How we are dealing with the saddest transition of toddlerhood

There has been lots of hollerin' around these parts lately. First the big boy bed! Woo hoo! Complete with a twin-sized alphabet quilt instead of a baby blanket. And then this conversation:

Me: Truman, you are my special baby.
Tru: Not a baby.
Me: Wuh?
Tru: Big guy.

A few days later he refused to wear diapers. Totally on his own. And now he is wearing his superhero undies backwards and using the bathroom like the big guy that he is.

But this post is not about how fast Truman is growing, or the transition from babyhood to big-guyhood. This is about the saddest part of this growth process.

No naps.

Why didn't anyone warn me?

THEY STOP NAPPING?

Why did I never consider this? I would lay in the sun, check my email, whip up a pie crust, and all the while it never crossed my mind that I should savor every moment of "me" time. I took life for granted, painting my toes, working on a proposal, watching Oprah.

New parents be warned. Enjoy those naps.

DIY: Homemade pasta