And somehow it is Labor Day!
Last night, I stayed up until one o'clock scrubbing floors. I'd stayed home from church because I felt pretty gross but, at ten o'clock, I realized that our floors and oven looked kinda gross and spent the next three hours alternating between scheduling blog posts for the week and scrubbing the kitchen and, since Andrew had fallen asleep trying to get Maxwell to sleep, it was kinda liberating to clean in total silence. I was bone tired when I went to bed and also starving and, at four o'clock, Henry started calling for his mama, woke up completely after nursing, and crawled around in a dark living room with Andrew until six thirty when Max woke up hollering for his mom.
That's our life now-a-days.
But! This post is not about today! This post is about this summer and all it's glory and about how I took no photographs of my family and I feel super guilty about it. I took 300 family photographs in July and August combined (this included three weeks on vacation) and, two years ago, I would have taken more like 3,000. So I am kinda slacking. But again! This summer! It was magic and beautiful and probably the best summer we ever had and now I've realized how important documenting our lives is.
And because I like lists and half sentences and rambling when I have the time (and I totally have the time because Max is playing in the sink behind Andrew's back and Henry is zonked out in his messy bedroom), here are ten things about our summer!
Henry figured out how to walk with a walker and zooms from one side of the living room to the other. If the walker is nowhere in sight, he clings to his mama's (or daddy's!) legs and clings until his hands are grabbed and big, exaggerated steps are taken. Also, he is awesome and I've slipped into the horrible habit of calling him "Henny Benny". Don't ask. It's embarrassing, and I am all about baby nicknames.
We spent a little over a week in Washington DC and, when we left, I asked Max what his favorite part of the trip was. He saw dinosaurs! He went to a new splash park! He got a new toy from his Mimi every day! He ate cupcakes! He stayed up past bedtime! He ran into the street between the Library of Congress and The Capitol in a moment of extra naughtiness! He saw the first airplane EVER! And his response, which was stated in a "well, duh, Mom" tone? "The train, Mom. The Train." (The Train + The Metro)
Max turned three and started calling us Mom and Dad instead of Mommy and Daddy. Also, he wears boxers now and thinks that he is pretty awesome. And not to mom brag, but he potty trained in two days. TWO. DAYS. And he is about to start preschool. Also I am ready for him to start preschool and he has switched fake glasses for fake tattoos. The boy has priorities and preferences, too.
I was pregnant for four hours. Last week, I realized I was late, found a pregnancy test in the back of the bathroom cabinet, and took a test that came up positive. I was shocked since we were in no way trying for a baby and actively preventing one, but being a baby lover, I was thrilled and called Andrew right away. I decided to take another test since I had no clue how old the test I took was and it came up negative, followed by more negatives. So, no baby. Andrew and I are pretty sad about this but we are not sad enough about it to start trying for number three any time soon.
We went swimming nearly every day of June and July. Maxwell sported a wicked tan line on his swimsuit line and Henry sported a perpetual sun face (which is when he scrunches up his face and grimaces and is basically the sweetest thing in the entire universe). Henry loved his baby boat and, the night before we went to the beach, Maxwell went underwater and scared the living tar out of me and now I'm nervous to take him swimming alone. But! That will wear out by next summer. Max also took swimming lessons and rocked them so much that we enrolled him in the next class up, but then I pulled him out because he tried to drown the first day and the teachers didn't notice. Thumbs down, Wilson Park Pool.
I learned how to make emoticons on Facebook, which means that Andrew's facebook is peppered with shark and penguin and kissy face emoticons. He hasn't told me, but I am pretty sure he loves them as much as I do. Also, this summer I learned that vanity sizing is not a myth. I am finally losing weight after the Great Birth Control Weight Gain of 2013 but am not my normal size and somehow fit into all of the 4's and 6's at all of the stores. This should not be happening.
Henry and Max loved the beach. Let me rewrite that: Henry and Max LOVED the beach. Two days ago, I asked Max what his favorite part of the summer was and he said "I liked playing with the plane at the beach", which means that he really liked the beach because, I mean, this summer he ate from a food truck and stayed with my mom for a week. So, someone loved the beach hard. Henry can't talk, but the way he ate the sand was nothing but true love.
We almost moved to Salt Lake City in May, but stayed here instead.
I embarrassed my husband by wanting to listen to Justin Timberlake and Katy Perry all the time. I also embarrassed him by becoming the champion of farting jokes this summer. I mean, apparently I have been suppressing fourteen-year-old boy humor my entire life, because I have made some awesome jokes the past few months.
Andrew started watching "Doctor Who", Maxwell knows three different ways to sing the ABC's (okay, fine! Two Ways!), Henry claps all the time and will probably be a professional dancer when he grows up, and I upgraded to a Canon 5d Mark III and found my camera soulmate.
Also, in Kansas City a few weeks ago, I ate a burrito in one sitting that was basically the size of my head. And it was awesome.