An Apple Remembers Its Tree

I think about my mom every day. Every single day. I thought as time progressed, this kind of thing would fade, but it hasn't. In fact, in a lot of ways, my feelings about her have intensified. I wonder about that because it has been four and a half years since she died. It just seems like I should miss her less. 

Today, because of a phone call, my thoughts turned to another influential woman in my life. To be honest, I never got to spend a lot of time with her on a consistent basis because she usually lived in a different country. Her influence comes through my mom, on whose life she had immense influence. 

I call her Obaachan--because that's Grandma in Japanese. She was always a fun grandma. Until she moved into a nursing home a few years ago, she never forgot her grandkids' birthdays. Of course, there are only three of us, but still, she always remembered. 

I have never heard of someone else's grandma being a champion Dr. Mario player. Yup. Back in the '90s, she was the queen of the Nintendo. I recall that she wouldn't allow even her beloved grandchildren to interrupt her game. Or even have a turn.

My Obaachan's life story is fascinating. She grew up during World War II in rural Japan. When she was still a teenager, her parents arranged a marriage for her, to a man she had only seen in passing once or twice. 

As a young person, I heard she was quite the town beauty. I saw a picture of her when she was nineteen years old. Yeah--she was beautiful. She acquired a reputation for always being on the cutting edge in fashion. I also heard she was a master knitter. Actually, I know she was an exceptional knitter. She knitted gloves for me once. Gloves. As in, not mittens.

And she was so funny without meaning to be. There was a time when she would stock up on milk whenever she knew I would be visiting. If you know me, you know that I don't drink milk. No matter how many times I went to her house and didn't drink the milk, no matter how many times I told her that milk made me sick, she kept buying the milk. Because Americans drink milk.

Her kids don't remember ever seeing her cook while they were growing up. Yet somehow, I know her as a magnificent cook. I have fond memories of many meals she prepared. 

One thing I know about my Obaachan is that she always wants to eat something delicious. The problem is, nothing tastes good to her. In the decades that I have known her, the only thing that she has eaten and liked were some random watermelons along the way. Seriously. I got a kick out of eating something with her or getting a treat for her, and then waiting to see how long before she commented that it totally sucked. Maybe that's more commentary about me, but I thought it was funny. 

Grandkids have always been her favorite.

Today I got a phone call. It was my aunt. The one who lives in Japan. Since it is Thanksgiving, my first thought was that she was calling to wish me a happy T-day. But then I realized that didn't make sense, and I knew that my Obaachan was gone.

Tsuyako Yamane Watanabe, May 13, 1931 - November 28, 2014. 

I'm sure I will think about her every day.

Too Annoyed to Post Pictures

I get annoyed a lot these days, and pretty easily, too. Just ask Jake. It could be the lack of sleep caused by--yet another--non-sleeping baby. It could be the lack of exercise caused by the lack of sleep caused by the non-sleeping baby. It could also be the constant dieting going on because of the weight gain caused by the non-sleeping baby. It could be the frustration from how difficult it is to lose the weight because of lack of sleep and exercise, all caused by the non-sleeping baby.

Anyway, I get annoyed, and I got annoyed this morning when I skimmed through Facebook to find that a few of my Friends had posted or re-posted a certain pregnancy-announcement video. Seriously! What? When did that become a thing? Does anyone care about this stuff outside of the people who make them?

I don't know what kicked in at that point. Hormones? More sleep deprivation? I suddenly had a moment of clarity. This baby-to-be is being celebrated. All kids ought to be celebrated. Unfortunately, that is not the world we live in. So what kind of idiot am I to hate on the celebration of another beautiful child?

So I clicked on the video link and watched it. It was cute. I may have shed a tear remembering what it was like to be a first time parent-to-be.

To all you rookie parents-to-be out there, announce away! I'm happy for you.

Now back to being annoyed.

The Most Self-Indulgent Mother's Day Post Ever

Jake posted a photo on Facebook today. I don't love it, but at the same time, I love it. It's the kids and me taken at the park. The kids are dirty, sweaty, and disheveled--which they were. I look tired and overweight--which I am. It pretty much sums up me and my job for the past eight years. Happy Mother's Day.

As I write this, I am exhausted and only half awake. In a few short hours I will be getting up to frantically get the entire brood ready for church, where I will be playing the organ and the piano, and then teaching Sunday School to 3-year-olds. I will likely be getting up once or twice before then to feed the baby and possibly change a diaper or two. But the thing is, this is OK with me. In fact, it's more than OK. It's freaking awesome.

I graduated from law school and management school eight years ago. I gave birth to my Ellie about a week before graduation. I decided to stay home with my baby, just for the first little bit. My plan was to re-enter the workforce soon thereafter, but I realized that I didn't want to leave my daughter in someone else's care. (My mom even offered to take care of her at one point!) So I put off going back to work. And then I got pregnant with Judd. And then Lu. And then I realized that this career thing was just not going to happen. I am well aware that the longer I am out of the market, the worse my situation becomes for someday re-entering. Yet here I am. And then I had another baby. I might be crazy.

Or, maybe, deep down, I really love my job. Even though it has cost me my career. It has cost me hundreds of hours of sleep. It has cost me my fit body. As I was drying my hair this morning, I realized that it is now costing me my hair. It is definitively turning grey. Actually, that's probably just a function of age, but I'm going to go ahead and blame my kids for it. Then there's the issue of all the damaged property caused by all these little people.

Believe me, I am terrible at my job. My house is an insane mess. My kids are dirty most of the time, despite mandatory daily bathing. I don't revel in all the stuff that kids do. Reading to the kids? Let's hope they pick a book with only a few short sentences. Play with the kids on the playground? Rule Number One with this mom:  if you can't play with it by yourself, you can't play with it. Soccer games? Do I have to go? Ballet recitals? My own personal hell.

I can't verbalize exactly why I do this. Maybe someday when I'm better rested I will be able to explain this clearly, but for now this is all I can say. It has something to do with waking up in the middle of the night, maybe even a few times, for a fussing baby. I hate it, but I love it more.

Is anything better than this? I'm pretty sure there is nothing better than this.

It has something to do with driving 8 hours to the beach in a crowded minivan while the kids fight and scream most of the way, then having to throw together a birthday party for one of them. All while very pregnant. I hate it. But I love it more.

He still says that was the best day of his life.

It has something to do with spending most of the day in the kitchen, cooking, then cleaning it up, then cooking again, then cleaning it up again; and then, cleaning up after everyone else. Sometimes my kids eat what I cook. Sometimes they won't touch it. It's about 50/50. I hate that. But it makes me laugh. So I love it.

Here I am, doing things I hate, but loving it at the same time. That is what keeps me here. I guess it makes sense, then, that I keep my license to practice law in my wallet and carry it with me wherever I go, even though I have never practiced. I remain conflicted about that decision every single day. I pull the card out every so often and look at it. I think about what life would be like if I was working. More money. More car. More house. More respect. But I always put it away. Maybe later.

Happy Mother's Day.

Mother-of-the-Year advice:  to capture all of the kids at once in a photo, line them up in front of the TV. They won't budge.

We Made It

What we set out to do six months ago has finally come and gone, and now we are embarking on a whole new busy life. 

Just as a refresher--Jake got a new job in January which required him, and thereby all of us, to move to Monroe, Louisiana. That is Northern Louisiana, which is not anywhere anyone has ever heard of, unless you watch a little show called Duck Dynasty on A&E. In January, we gutted and remodeled our house in Denver. In February, we packed up our things, moved Maki to my sister's house, and the rest of us moved into Jake's parents' house. (They graciously welcomed us into their home for several months, for which we are extremely grateful.) In March, our house went on the market, and sold very soon thereafter. (Thanks Greg Anderson!) We went under contract on our home in Louisiana in early April, and closed on the Denver house in mid-April. Then we waited for our house to be completed and for the school year to end. We closed on Louisiana house at the end of May, but not before my baby turned 3.

Sometimes Build-A-Bear is a necessary and somewhat welcome evil.

This kid had been telling everyone for months that it was her birthday. When it finally was, she didn't seem to comprehend that her day had really, truly arrived.

The next day, Jake and I flew to LA, closed on the house, moved all our stuff into the house, then flew back to Denver just in time for all the end-of-school stuff, like Ellie's recital.

Then, it was time to move We, the People into the new home. We drove. 3 days. It was mostly Texas. Texas is really big.  Thank goodness for Ipods, iPads, iPhones, portable DVD players, headphones, and technology in general.

We did find this really great burrito place in a tiny town there, though. The burritos were huge and made with home-made hand-made tortillas.

We arrived in Monroe, and to our great relief, the kids absolutely fell in love with the new house. One thing we noticed very quickly, though, is that it is really hot down here. That weekend, we joined the local health club, just so we could use their fun pool facilities.

Then came the part we were really waiting for. In my quest to find the positives of moving to the south, I discovered that the Florida Panhandle is driving distance from where we now live. !!! Awesome, right? So we booked a nice, big townhouse in Sandestin, Florida, and made plans to go there when my sister arrived with my brother. All the Rosses, Maki, my sister, and her 2 kids made the trek to the beach. It was awesome.

While we were there, this guy turned 5!

All the grandkids on my side of the family represented here. It was funny to see these city kids (OK, so it's my kids who are the real city kids...) discover bugs and other creepy crawly things living in our neighborhood in Florida.

Now all of us are back together again, under the same roof. All 6 of us. It is insane, but the way it's supposed to be. I am still unpacking and trying to find some order in this mountain of chaos. Jake is liking his new job and his new office and his new coworkers. I am very happy that things are working out well for him here. The kids are still exploring the new house. They love to play hide-and-seek in it. Maki loves his new digs, which is another great relief. 

Hotel Ross is kind-of sort-of open. We have a place for y'all to stay if you come visit, but we still have a lot of boxes lying around. But come visit, if you've got a hankerin' for the South! Also, I do plan to post photos of the new house, but not until things look a bit less tornado-hit-ish.

If the Shoe Fits...

I took my shopaholic son on a quick trip to Sam's Club tonight. I took him with me because he has told me many times that he loves to shop at Sam's Club, and I get a kick out of the fact that my 4-year-old knows his retail. As we were browsing through the giant shampoo aisle (the shampoo is giant, not the aisle), an employee breezed by, and in a most unpleasant tone said:

"I assume you know that he has his shoes on the wrong feet."

As I was forming the words to a witty and apologetic reply, I glanced over at the woman and noticed that she looked kind of agitated. A few things occurred to me at that moment:  (1) I don't care that my son has his shoes on the wrong feet; (2) I was proud of my son for getting shoes on his feet; and (3) I don't care that someone else doesn't like that my son has his shoes on the wrong feet.

So I let the idiotic remark linger so we could all hear the crickets, and I continued my shampoo conversation with my son. As I continued to shop, however, I did wonder--sociopath? Other personality disorder?

I cannot tell you how many times someone has informed me that my son, or another one of my kids has their shoes on the wrong feet. Ever since the first time I heard it with my oldest child, I have been perplexed as to such a remark. I'm not talking about the people who playfully bring it up with the child or the person who says, "I remember when my such-and-such used to do that." I'm talking about the people letting me or my child know that such a faux pas has been made, as if (a) I don't know; and (b) it actually matters.

That's right. I don't care that my kids have their shoes on the wrong feet. My oldest is six and she doesn't do it any more. The other ones are young enough that, once again, it doesn't matter. Now, say, if you the reader wore your shoes on the wrong feet, that could be an issue. Bur we're talking about toddlers here, people.

So here's another side to this coin. When my sister was a baby and through toddlerhood, she had issues with her feet and legs that required her to wear corrective "shoes" and also to wear her shoes on the wrong feet. That's right I said required to wear shoes on the wrong feet. Hmmm...who sounds like the insensitive buffoon now? But closer to my heart, (sorry Jessica!) my son actually has fine motor skill issues and as his mother, I am pleased as punch that he put his velcro sneakers on his own feet by himself!

I suppose my message here today is threefold:  (1) If you tell me or my child that my child has his shoes on the wrong feet, I will assume that there is something wrong with you; (2) If you tell me or my child that he has his shoes on the wrong feet, consider yourself lucky if you only get a, "Yes they are," as a response; and (3) If you are four years old and your shoes are on the wrong feet, there is nothing wrong with that.

Let me be clear:  I don't care that my son has his shoes on the wrong feet.

Thank you.

Southern Comfort

As many of you already know, we are embarking on a new adventure. After two or so years of searching, we finally found the right job. It happens to be exactly what Jake wanted and we are absolutely happy about his new career. There is, however, one condition. We have to move. I have had a difficult time wrapping my mind around this move, but as the move looms closer, I am feeling more and more positive. Read on to see why.

I don't know if you have ever heard of Monroe, Louisiana. I hadn't heard of it until Jake came home a few months ago and informed me that if we wanted any chance at this job, we would have to accept the idea of moving there. OK. The truth of the matter is that we both kind of came up with this plot together. If Jake's company wanted someone out there, why don't we just go out there? It was the right job. So we set out to find out more about this place. Keep in mind that I have never spent time in this part of the world--except for a brief layover once in Atlanta. I don't think that really counts.

Here is what we discovered. It is the home of this awesome show. Reason enough, right?

I hope you recognize this scenery, because it is a great show. If you don't recognize it, I highly recommend Duck Dynasty on A&E. It takes place more in West Monroe, which is the small town next door to Monroe.

Jake's company was kind enough to fly both of us out to their headquarters in Monroe to see the town and meet some people before we made the final decision. That was my first time ever in Louisiana. I was amazed at how different things are there than here in Denver. That was really my main impression after our short 3-day visit.

Jake accepted the job, and they gave him one year to get moved to Monroe. (Currently he works out of their Denver office.) So we have been busy preparing to sell our beloved home, selling our home, looking for a new home, etc.

We realized that my bro was probably not going to handle this gigantic transition well, so we took him to my sister to hang with her while we take care of all this. We made a fun trip out of it.

In case you're wondering, I get a kick out of recording Jake trying to photograph our kids. So here's Jake trying to get a group photo of the kids and Superman. Ha ha ha.

We put our home on the market and were fortunate enough to go under contract pretty quickly. We close in just a couple of weeks. 

Last week, Jake and I went on a house-hunting trip to Monroe. I told Jake that if the company's people had taken us to eat at the places where we ate this time around, I would have been more positive about the move from the start. It is crawfish season in the South right now. It is awesome. The local cuisine is awesome. Here is a sampling:

This is a shrimp po' boy with fries and gravy. Amazing. The food is reason enough to at least visit this place.

Most important, however, is that we came away from this trip with this.

I can hardly believe it. We are officially under contract on this lovely home. It is not completed yet, so we get to move into a brand-spankin'-new house. It will be our Southern Home. We are very excited about it.

I will let y'all know when Hotel Ross is once again open for business.

Catch Up and (Another) Big Announcement

 We are a busy bunch. In the time since my last post quite a bit has happened, like:

 We went to California for fall break. We visited Jake's sister and her family in the Bay Area where the kids got to go trick-or-treating. I wish I had a photo of her gorgeous home. I love it. We then flew to Orange County and went to Disneyland. Unfortunately, the Photographer didn't bring the camera charger, and so, of course, the battery in the camera died. She is totally fired.

 Snow. Quite a bit of it. But we live in Weird Weather Zone, so it usually melts within a few days. And then it snows again.

Ellie performed in her dance school's production of the Nutcracker. She was the Cherub. She was the smallest dancer in the entire production.

 Somewhere in there, we experienced Nature. By now you know that Nature is something I typically avoid, but I thought it might do us some good, so I broke my own rule. My dear friend Yuriko was visiting, also, so that helped convince me to get into Nature.

My favorite people in Nature. (Garden of the Gods, Colorado)

Amid all this, there was Christmas and Thanksgiving, a birthday, and some other stuff, but I guess the real kicker is that Jake got a new job and we are moving to Louisiana.

But not yet. Even though Jake starts with his new company tomorrow, we will not make the move until the kids are out of school for the summer. We will be busy over the next several months!

If you want to see where we are going, watch Duck Dynasty. That is where it is. Jake and I flew out for a visit to check things out right before Christmas. We are in for some lifestyle changes. Jake fell in love with the place.

I look forward to learning a new language.

In the meantime, if you or anyone you know is looking for a 4 bedroom home in the Denver area, call me!

62

Dear Mom,

On what would have been your 62nd birthday, I thought I'd show you some things you might like.

Sometimes we can't find Judd. Then we find him asleep.

The kids are best friends. I love watching them play together.

Ellie started first grade and Judd started his second year of preschool. They both love school.

She is growing up.

She is, too, but she is still a baby to me.

This guy is the sweetest boy.

He doesn't love soccer, though.

When Ellie is at school, these two are best friends.

And I think Maki is happy and healthy. The kids drive him nuts, though.

I still think of you every day. Ellie remembers you well. Can you believe it? She misses you but she seems confident that we will all get to meet again someday.

Happy Birthday!

Love,
Katie

An Announcement and Update

First, a big announcement:

I have a new blog. I know, you were expecting a baby announcement. I realize that we are "due" for another baby Ross. Ha ha. Nope. I have graced the blogosphere with a new blog. The beauty of this one, though, is that is centers around my husband. Here is the link. Enjoy. The Adventures of Jake.

Next, I will torture you with things my kids have done or said.

1. Judd had an accident last week at his grandparents' house. Later that day, Jake wanted to talk about the incident.
Jake:  Why did you poop in your pants today?
Judd:  Dad, somebody put poop in my pants today at Boppy's house.
Jake:  ...

He turned 4 last month. Here he is in his new Polo Ralph Lauren outfit, courtesy Aunt Sumie in Japan. Classic.

Please don't mind that chaos on my patio there. I wish I could say a storm did that, but we all know that's just the natural state of my home.

2. My 2-year-old is very good at telling you she is 6 years old. She holds out the correct number of fingers and everything. She's very convincing, except for the fact that she usually looks like this.

She's just a baby! Incidentally, my 4-year-old son uses two hands to tell you how old he is.

3. Teeth are falling out all over the place.

Happy summer!

Happy Mom's Day 2012

Here's a recent (and rare) photo of me with my kids. Note that one of them is trying to push me out of the picture. I believe that we are at a place in our lives where a good family snapshot is a mere fantasy.

As Mother's Day approaches, I find myself thinking often about the role of mothers in general, and my job as a mother, specifically. A few weeks ago, a dear friend of mine commented that she was a much better attorney than she was a mother. She, like me, has made the decision to stay at home with the kids rather than pursue a potentially lucrative and exciting career as an attorney. I should have interjected at the time and told her firmly that she is not only a capable and competent parent, but also about as good as they come. I can't imagine a mother who loves her children more. (If you're reading this now, my friend, I hope you take this to heart! )

Her comment, however, made me think about how I view myself as a mother. I can honestly tell you that this is the most difficult task I have ever ever ever taken on in my entire life. I can give you a list of the insanely difficult things I have either done or endured in my life, but motherhood dwarfs them all. (The bar exam? Ha! Not even close!) This stay-at-home mom thing? Impossible! If you see my house on any given day, you would have to agree. My kids run wild, my house is overrun with random shoes and stray food, and every surface that is reachable by a 2 1/2 foot tall human has been tagged with Sharpie. (Incidentally, I think I have discovered where my grey streak is going to be.) You know those blogs where the mom is beautiful, the kids are clean and well dressed, and the home is perfectly decorated? This isn't that blog. This is the blog where the mom is usually wiping poop off of something or someone. Or was that a tropical storm that just swept through my kitchen right after I hand-mopped the floor and scrubbed the grout? I so so so hate grout!

Then I thought of my own mom, who had to do all this, but thousands of miles away from her homeland, from her family. She had to do it with almost no money, an absentee/abusive spouse, and as a result, often waning mental health. My relationship with my mom was always complicated and difficult, but as I delve deeper into my job as a mom, I realize more and more how difficult things were for her. I find myself wondering how she was able to take us all to adulthood, given the circumstances she had.

As you know, my mom died two years ago. However, it was just recently that I figured out what the ache for her in my heart was. For me, despite our complicated relationship, my mom was the person who was proud of me. I could tell her the things I had done, and I knew that made her happy. She would tell me that I had done well or would marvel that I had such an ability to do whatever it was I had done. I truly miss that. Now I ache to pick up the phone to call my mom and tell her about the things my kids have done. I know she would love that.

I owe my mom a huge Thank You and Happy Mother's Day. Also to Jake's mom, Happy Mother's Day and Thank You--you've done a great job!

Today was my daughter's first ever piano recital. She had a brilliant performance. It brought memories of my many piano recitals and how I felt back then. I am glad to report that after she played her pieces, I held her on my lap, gave her a big squeeze, and told her how proud of her I am. Her face beamed, and I saw that my role as her mother isn't so different from my own mom's role as a mother to me.

Happy Mother's Day!

Update 2012

Just an update on our insane lives:

Maki turned 38 in January. Scary thought, no?

We had some snow.

I made some really big cookies. Corn flake crunch, marshmallow, and chocolate chips.

The kids got some quality sunshine in between storms. And also some quality Wendy's lunch.

This is what Lu wants to do every day, all day long.

That's all I've got for now.

Pay It Forward

I spent a much-needed weekend away from home this past weekend. I will go ahead and say it:  it was an awesome time. It was the first time I've ever been away from all three of my kids and my husband at the same time. On top of that, I spent the weekend in one of my favorite places--Seattle. What made this weekend particularly special, however, was the reason for which I made the trip. 

A year and a half ago, my mother passed away suddenly. (Some of you know she was already dying of cancer, but her actual cause of death was congestive heart failure and a massive heart attack caused by the cancer drug Herceptin.) I say suddenly, but the final twenty or so hours of her life were particularly painful and difficult. Through it all, there was one person by her side, right up until she breathed her last breath. (My sister was also there for her last few hours.) This friend had driven from Seattle to Logan a few days previous for the sole purpose of caring for her during that round of chemotherapy. She was the one who broke the news to me of my mom's dire situation. She didn't leave town until after the funeral, at which she gave the most beautiful memorial to my mom.

Her name was Yuko Johnson, and she passed away last week after her own years-long battle with cancer. She was one of the most impressive people I have ever known. She is the reason I went to Seattle this weekend. I said this past weekend was awesome. It may be strange to say that of a funeral weekend, but it just was. 

When I arrived in Seattle, Yuko's husband and daughter welcomed me into their home and we had a very nice and heartfelt visit. Chris's family, of course, was there, and Yuko's friends came and went as the day wore on. I have known Yuko for twenty or so years, and it was absolutely lovely to learn about Yuko from people who knew her even longer and from other times and places of her life. I enjoyed visiting with Tia, her daughter, and being able to recognize the many things she must have picked up from her mother. The one thing that impressed me the most was that there were so many people in the world who absolutely loved this woman. She was a true friend to all these people. I won't go into a lot of detail about Yuko's life, but I can attest that it was a particularly full and dynamic one.

I wish I could have given her a big hug before she left. I suppose that I will get my chance someday. 

By the time it was time for me to return home, I was refreshed and ready to face my crazy life again. I also had a heart full of gratitude--that I had Yuko for a friend, that I was able to meet and make friends with so many of her friends, and that I have her as a teacher and example. Heck, I was grateful for being able to travel so far away, even if it meant having to submit to a full body search at airport security because I absolutely refuse to go through the full-body scanner. 

Here are some photos from the weekend. I searched all my digital photos for anything with Yuko in it, but I had nothing, unfortunately. This is Yuko's sweet mother-in-law and some of her friends. One traveled all the way from Germany. The tall girl in the middle is Yuko's daughter who just returned from and LDS mission. (She also has a son who is currently serving a mission in Brazil.) We made Japanese curry for lunch. Delicious food, warm company, lovely lunch.

This is at her graveside service. I was so glad and honored to be invited. Yuko's daughter is on the far left, and the rest of us are friends from all over the world.

I know that I am now refreshed and can better do my day job on a basic level. I hope to be a better wife, mother, sister, and person. Yuko, I hope to be a bit more like you.

Mata au hi made.

Birthday Card

Dear Mom,

Happy 61st Birthday! I don't know if birthdays from this life count where you are now, but I am thinking of you all the same. Maki is, too. So is Jessica. We miss you.

Love,
Katie

Found My Camera

Blog title says it all.

My bro participated in a charity event. Fundraiser for the Denver Adult Down Syndrome Clinic, which is an essential part of his life right now. My brother is the bomb, apparently.

 Here he is with some Denver Broncos cheerleaders, and below with none other than Miss Colorado.

Here he is with some Denver Nuggets dancers. He was pretty busy that evening, as he was also part of the main entertainment. Some of the clients of the organization put together some dance numbers and performed them. The best, though, was that Maki danced with all of these very nice, lovely ladies that evening. It was fun!





A couple of years ago, I enrolled Ellie in ballet classes. After a few months, I realized it was a total bust. She was not loving it, to say the least. I gave her a year off and now we are back at it. Here is the first day of ballet (and tap and tumbling) lessons, part II. We hope it sticks this time.

This child can't not pose for a photo.

A week later, school started. It was a very exciting day, since it was Ellie's first day of kindergarten.

I had to throw these in here, just to balance things out.

Unfortunately, for this date and time, this is all I could get of this guy. Hey, at least he's wearing pants!

Waiting for the bus. I'm only partially joking when I say that I selected the kids' elementary school based on the fact that the bus will take them to school. (I can be one lazy mama!)

Have a good day at school!

Despite the fact that I grew up where I grew up, I am one who makes a point of staying away from nature as much as possible. (Not quite as bad as Monk, but I definitely sympathize with his position.) I believe that there is such thing as too much nature, and that threshold isn't very high.

Today, however, we made a short trip into nature--the Garden of the Gods, to be exact. It was, of course, beautiful. Despite the intense heat, it was a fun and worthwhile family activity. It was made even more worthwhile afterwards when we went to Rudy's for lunch/dinner. Yum....mmm....

It was a good day. It's been a good summer. I don't think I'm ready for it to be over.