It was warm enough over the weekend for ice skating. I know, clearly I’m nuts, but I really think it’s best when done on an unseasonable winter day. Thank goodness we skate on commercial ice instead of on random ponds where we would surely break the ice and drown in our preferred weather.
The boys turn eight this month and I keep having these moments where I see them and they look old. They look like proper big kids suddenly. They say things that make sense on a regular basis – and not just make sense to me, but make sense to the world at large. They can count their own money. They read proper books. They write clever stories. They come in my room in the morning and instead of whispering that they need to me to come fix something, they whisper that they’re going to the playground before school starts. And that school is technically third grade. Third grade!
I know they’re really still little. But this time of the year just before the birthday, I always have a stretch where I feel like their growth has sneaked up on me.
I really don’t know why anyone would give us a funny look. We’re just carrying a fake tree down the street from our house to church where I’m running a summer camp for homeschoolers to put on a production of A Midsummer Night’s Dream. But my mother, visiting, thought the Husband and I were amusing enough to snap a picture.
I know I have a better day if I start by moving around, especially with the kids. It’s just so hard sometimes. Plus we have so many days when we need to be somewhere before ten o’clock. If we’re going to get in any school, going out for a hike seems impossible.
That’s the Husband out with us. He may have a weird schedule, but sometimes it has its benefits.
One of our co-ops has done a little homemade yearbook for awhile now and I vowed to introduce the practice to our other one. While the kids were around the fuzzball table at one house, one of the other parents nudged me and was like, they’re all together around that table, I think it needs a yearbook photo.
I don’t think I quite captured it (said as if my iPhone is some awesome action-capturing camera and I’m some serious photographer!). But I like the concentrating look on BalletBoy’s face there, wearing his hilarious winter hat with the heart on it indoors. Fuzzball!
The Husband joined us for what was really a lovely trip to Charlottesville last week. Perfect fall weather and amazing colors. Here’s Mushroom thrilled to have found yet another colonial era kitchen to observe.
And here’s BalletBoy trying out Thomas Jefferson’s bed. Not the real one, of course. It’s the model they have in the children’s room at the visitor’s center.