Today I registered S for kindergarten. School starts in two weeks. I'm trying to wrap my mind around that fact, and all that it implies.
We harvested one little tomato this summer. It tasted good. I should have put the plant in a bigger pot, but next time I'll know.
S and T have been playing a lot with blocks lately. I especially liked this scene they created of a wedding party. The cars are getting married, and all the other toys are their guests. I'm scratching my head over why S seems to have weddings on the brain, as this has been a regular theme in his play recently.
I finished one of my chair orders. Five more to go. These pictures are crumby. Maybe I'll try for some better ones tomorrow.
I decided to finally make a flickr account, which seems to be a requirement for craft blogs. I don't know if this really qualifies as a craft blog these days, but it's still an aspiration. You can find my photos on flickr here, if you are so inclined. It was a pretty big undertaking, uploading all the photos, writing the descriptions, and linking back to the blog. Now that I have it all set up, it should be easier to use as I go along. No more four-hour flickr computer-hogging flickr sessions, honey, I promise.
Our typical evening schedule is to move the boys directly from dinner to the bath, and then to bed. Tonight, though, we thought they should stay up later, since they both took mammoth naps in the afternoon. The weather was nice, and I offered to take the boys for a walk while Nate slept off a fried chicken hangover. As we stepped out onto the driveway, the boys and I could hear the marching band. We walked over to the high school, a stone's throw away from our house, but a slow ten minute walk with my two guys going at their own paces. It took us a while to find the band in the practice field, searching through a maze of fences and fields. We carefully ascended the bleachers, where a small crowd of parents, siblings, and friends were assembled, watching quietly. The breeze was generous, my boys were on my lap and right next to me, respectively, and I could sense their awe at this spectacle. The sound of the marimbas and the band's formations were so beautiful at that moment, they brought tears to my eyes, hidden behind my big sunglasses. For a moment I missed my husband. Then I thought that it's nice, it's right, even, to have these magical moments alone with my boys. In the course of our days together we have so many ordinary, tedious, frustrating moments together that are just our own, shared with no one else. Shouldn't I also have some rapturous moments with them that are mine alone to savor?
Also, while I aim to enthusiastically support any of their future interests, I just want to put it out there that I won't be at all disappointed if my boys are band geeks. Not at all.