Summertime

In my world, the Fourth of July traditionally is a day for relaxing with family and friends; parades; drinks; and panic!--summer is halfway over! I need to take the kids to the zoo and the water park and RJ still can't quite write his name and GiGi isn't remotely potty trained and panic, panic, panic!

It's only half over; and, the first half has been pretty darn fun.  We did make it to the parade this year, because my boy does love a parade.

We compromised. She wanted to wear her "Hi Cat" (Hello Kitty) shirt. I wanted her to wear the outfit I had bought for this Fourth of July. We went half and half. 

He loves a parade. 

She's her Poppy's girl. 

He's my all American boy. 

Sissy was scared of the marching bands ("I skeered.")

I hope my baby boy and his baby sister love each other as much as this guy and his baby sister. 

We haven't made it to a real water park yet (but we have done an awful lot of swimming). We did make it to a splash pad for an hour of summer fun. 

She has new yellow "flaps." She refuses any other shoes. Opinionated. 

I think this one is going to be a heart breaker. 

Then again, this guy might break a few hearts himself. 

This is what summer should be. 

We've driven a few miles here and there. Mostly to Grandma's house and back, complete with the requisite "I need to potty" stop 10 minutes from home. Every single trip. 

No man wants to see his little sister driving his hot rod. It's just not right. 

Even if she does try to sweeten the deal. 

Sissy got a pink tricycle. Because we love her. And mostly because she made us so nuts over her brother's bicycle that we had to give her something to make her stop screaming. 

I'm kidding. This little precious would never scream. Except when you ask her to wear tennis shoes. Or get in her car seat. Or sleep. Or wear a diaper. 

We've managed to snag a few afternoons in the backyard at home too. 

And we celebrated Mom's 36th and Poppy's 30th birthday.  GiGi and her Poppy have a thing going on; I know another little girl who thought (and thinks) he's the tops too. 

I turned 36 this week. I should have something philosophical to say about it. I don't. The cake was sweet. The company was sweeter. And, someday when I'm not quite so exhausted, I'll ponder the meaning of life and the passing of another year. Until then, it's summertime, and so far, I think we've done just enough to stave off the panic.