little black journal

We’ve stayed pretty close to home these last few months – I was telling La Verne last week that I can’t remember the last time we weren’t home for Juliette’s two naps and bedtime.  That means we haven’t left the house for more than 4-5 hours since…Christmas in Portland?  Is that possible?  We were due for a getaway.  So when my aunt told us she’d be visiting Portland from Baltimore for a few days, we took that as our cue to get out of town for the weekend and catch up with family.  We headed out on Friday morning, fingers crossed that Jules would take a solid nap on the road, spend the afternoon at Mitch’s charming the family with her babbling and smiles, and sleep like a rock during her first night in a hotel.  The best-laid plans…

The ride down went alright, save for the last thirty minutes, at which point Jules had decided she was done being in the car.  We tried singing songs, giving her snacks, stopping for a breather, cranking up the radio, turning down the radio, playing peek-a-boo, and praying, but ultimately just had to push through.  We made it to Edgefield for lunch, a little worse for the wear, but with sanity mostly in-tact.  And it was so good to see Grandma!

We spent the afternoon at Mitch’s house, laying low.  Jules woke up from her nap feeling a little warm.  Not good.  And then two gooey streams of snot shot out of her nose when she sneezed.  Really not good.  She came down with a cold last time Mitch and his family visited and spent much of the weekend fussing.  Could her timing really be this bad?  Hang with us, baby!  We gave her some ibuprofen and hoped for the best.  She perked up a little at dinner and seemed to enjoy hanging out with Morgan, who read her books and offered her toys and sang her six rounds of The Itsy Bitsy Spider.

The Jarrell Inn was full for the night, so we headed out after dinner to check into our room at a nearby hotel.  We did bathtime, pajamas, and Pack N Play setup in record time and had Jules tucked in just past her regular bedtime.  Whew!  Shane and I tucked ourselves into bed with the iPad to watch an episode of The Americans, tired but pretty satisfied with how well we’d fared for the day.  And then, at 8:30, Juliette started to fuss.  I opened the door to the living room (we were in a suite) and rubbed her back until she settled down, figuring she was probably confused by this strange crib in this strange room.  She quickly went back to sleep and I hopped back into bed.  Crisis averted!  And then, at 8:45, she really started wailing.  Not just a whimper, but an all out plea to Come get me, NOW!  I nursed her until she dropped back off to sleep, hoping we’d seen the last of each other for the night.  But she woke again at 9:15.  And 9:45.  And 10:00.  I could hear her cold getting worse, as she snorted through her stuffy nose.  I finally just pulled her into bed with us and tried propping her up with a pillow so she could breathe easier.  But she was squirmy.  And hot.  I took her sleep sack off.  I put it back on.  I laid her on my chest, Shane tried nuzzling her in the crook of his arm, I nursed her, Shane sang to her, but she just wouldn’t settle.  I pulled the Pack N Play next to our bed and put her in it, my arm draped awkwardly over the side of the bed so that I could rub her back while she drifted off to sleep.  Time was all a blur at this point, but I think this lasted about an hour, and then she somehow ended up back in the bed, and then she was back in the Pack N Play in the living room for a couple of hours while I hopped up every 20 minutes to soothe her.  Shane headed out at 6 am to pick up some baby Tylenol, and after we gave her a dose she slept for two whole hours.  I haven’t been so thrilled by two hours of sleep since she was four days old!

We were up and at ’em around 8:30, bleary-eyed and a little bit cranky.  This might be one of the most deceptive photos of all time – I pulled out the camera just to memorialize Juliette’s first night in a hotel, figuring I’d catch her fussing, but she flashed Shane a pretty great grin as I leaned over to snap a picture.  I’ll take it.  We’ll call it her We survived! smile.

In the morning so she looked so small in that king-sized bed.  In the middle of the night, she felt like a a 900-pound restless gorilla.

We went to Mitch and Kathryn’s for breakfast, thinking we’d ride the wave of Juliette’s morning dose of Tylenol until naptime, at which point we’d head home.  We ate and then walked over to the girls’ favorite park for swings and slides and basketball.  The fresh air did us all good.

Cousins! (That’s the neighbor girl on the right, honorary Jarrell for the day.)

Juliette seems to be getting more comfortable with being the center of attention!

The ride home was, well…

But we made it back to Seattle with only two stops and Juliette started to rebound that evening – she’s on the mend now, fever-free and sleeping much, much better.  Although the weekend didn’t quite live up to my idealized visions (they never do!), we’re still glad we made the trip, glad my Aunt Ruthie got to meet Juliette, if only for a few hours.  And maybe it’s good to regress every once in awhile, so that we can appreciate how far we’ve come in these last nine months.  Yeah, I’ll go with that…

I’m having a hard time believing that Christmas has come and gone – I’m resisting Shane’s request that we take down the tree and I still have the Charlie Brown Christmas album on repeat.  I’m so thankful for the time with family and friends, for the special holiday moments we shared with Juliette.

We headed down to Portland on Saturday, just in time to wish Morgan a happy third birthday.  This sweet girl was a little overwhelmed by all the attention lavished upon her – she bashfully smiled as we belted out “Happy Birthday”, not entirely sure what to make of the singing and the candles and the cameras.

But all sense of reserve was lost once she was told she could dig into her cupcake!  Was it really just three years ago that I was holding a newborn Morgan in my arms?  She’s such a strong-willed, fun-loving little person now.

Since my parents, Shane and I would be heading home on Christmas Eve, we opened gifts on Sunday morning.  Morgan and Elise excitedly tore into their pile of presents, while Juliette needed a little help from dad.  The sound of wrapping paper being torn was her favorite part of the whole ordeal – next year, I’m giving her a bunch of wrapped empty boxes!

Shane, on the other hand, understands the joy of a perfect gift – check out that whiskey grin!

The rest of Sunday was wonderfully low-key – we ate, we painted, we played Candyland, we napped, and as the day drew to a close, we cracked open Shane’s Christmas gift.

We set out for Alberta Street on Monday to show Jules one of our favorite Portland neighborhoods.  First stop: coffee at Barista!

Kathryn bought Mitch a ukelele from his favorite music store for Christmas, and Shane gave it a little test drive out on the sidewalk, serenading Juliette as she dozed in her stroller.

Shane, Kathryn, and I grabbed delicious Indian food from Bollywood Theatre for lunch.  Morgan and Elise were not so interested in samosas or dal or pork vindaloo, but they were quick to take us up on an offer of ice cream from Salt and Straw next door.

We capped off the day with a special pizza dinner to celebrate my mom and dad’s 43rd (!) wedding anniversary.  I loved being in a house full of family, crowding around the table at mealtimes, watching Morgan and Elise dote on their new cousin.  There were times when the hub-bub was loud and crazy and tiring (you can see below that it tuckered Jules out), but the hub-bub was also full of joy and great care for one another.  There was never any shortage of volunteers to hold the baby or clean up the kitchen or read a book to the kids.

My parents left early the next morning for La Pine, and Shane, Jules, and I strategically hit the road at morning naptime.  But first, the requisite photo of cousins on the couch:

Christmas day was quiet – we lounged around in our PJs, did some cooking, and opened our gifts from Shane’s family.  Jules can’t believe how well she made out:

It seems impossible that a year ago, this little girl was the size of a poppyseed, making a home for herself in my belly unbeknownst to Shane and I.  Best gift ever.

The Rust clan flew in from their week in Colorado on Christmas afternoon, so Shane, Juliette, and I headed over to their place that evening, bearing ham and mashed potatoes and apple pie.  It was a treat to share Christmas dinner with our Seattle family, to be back in the midst of hub-bub after such a mellow day at home.

And with that, a holly, jolly Christmas 2013 is in the books!

On Saturday morning we loaded up our car with an ungodly amount of baby gear and headed south to Portland – Juliette’s first road trip!  Given her distaste for her car seat, we had our qualms about this little getaway; I considered calling Mitch late Friday night and telling him we simply weren’t ready to wreak that kind of havoc on our eardrums.  But I summoned my “adventurous” spirit and we pressed on with our plans, hitting the road right at naptime on Saturday and praying that Jules would fall asleep with little fuss.  And I’ll be danged, it actually worked.  She wailed for about 10 minutes around Tukwila (10 miles south of Seattle), but just as I started to cry along with her, longing to scoop her up into my arms and assure her we weren’t intentionally neglecting her, she conked out and hardly stirred the rest of the way to Portland – we made it to Mitch and Kathryn’s in record time, sanity still intact.

We spent most of the weekend just lazing around the house, enjoying Morgan and Elise as they enjoyed Juliette – it was a veritable cousin love-fest.  Morgan has adored her baby dolls for as long as I can remember, carrying them with her to bed and to the store and to the dining room table.  So you can imagine her enthusiasm over the chance to play with a real, live baby doll – she was immediately smitten with Juliette and had great fun tucking her in with her favorite blankie and her stuffed bunny, helping me with diaper changes and jammie time, tagging along when I went to get Juliette up from her naps.

Goodness, I can’t believe how much Morgan has changed in the four months since I’ve seen her.  Her hair is longer, her legs have lost that precious baby chub, and her will is stronger than ever.  She’s stubborn and sensitive and incredibly sweet (when she wants to be).

Elise also doted on Jules, with serenades on the guitar and cuddle sessions on the couch, but seeing as how she’s five, she’s very much into her big-girl stuff as well.  She started kindergarten this year and loves to play school; it turns out she is the strictest teacher on the planet, and Shane spent much of Saturday afternoon in time out for his refusal to properly follow directions.  She’s a chatterbox and a total riot – sometimes intentionally, sometimes not.  Mitch and I were discussing Christmas plans on Sunday when Elise announced that she wanted a “diarrhea”.  I raised my eyebrows at Mitch as he shrugged his shoulders and asked for clarification.

“What was that, Elise?”

“I want a diarrhea book.”

I bowed my head and stifled a giggle as Mitch delved deeper:  “You want a book about diarrhea?”

“Noooooo, Daddy, I want a diarrhea.  To write stuff in.  Karma has one.”

“Oh, you mean a diary?”

“Yeah, a diarrhea.”

By this point, I was breathless and red-faced with the effort of not laughing out loud.  Kids do say the darnedest things.

Shane and I sighed with relief and gratitude as we pulled back into our driveway on Monday afternoon – the weekend had been a smashing success.  Juliette traveled well, slept great, and soaked in some serious love from the Jarrell clan.  She’ll never have a big sister, but I suspect that these two will be pretty good surrogates.

We made a quick trip to Portland this weekend for a family fix – 24 hours to catch up with Mitch and Kathryn and love on those sweet nieces of ours. We ate ice cream cones at Ruby Jewel’s, we cheered on Elise at soccer practice, we hit the Kenton Street Fair, complete with bratwursts and puppet shows and face-painting.  We read books and painted and wrapped baby dolls in little purple blankets.  Never a dull moment.

Elise is FIVE and all big-girl now.  She is extremely inquisitive and will keep you on your toes with her myriad of questions: “Which way are we driving?”; “North?  Can you drive to the North Pole?”; “Why is that man on the street corner holding a sign?”; “If he doesn’t have a house, where does he sleep?”  Mitch and Kathryn are so good at constantly staying engaged with her – every question of Elise’s gets a thoughtful answer, even if it’s at the end of a string of 27 other “Why’s”.  She still loves super-heros and anything pink; on the flip side, spinach is disgusting and hair-brushing is absolute torture.

And Morgan…she’s still quite the heart-melter.  She is chatty like her sister – it just takes a little more effort to decipher what she’s talking about.  “Hay” is her name for Shane, “Hide you!” is her version of “Found you!” in a game of hide and seek, “No ah-eh” is her proud declaration of “No accidents” after a successful day without diapers.  She can be cranky (she is two, after all), but she can also laugh like her joy knows no bounds.  A simple game of peek-a-boo, and she’ll be rolling on the floor, squealing with unbridled delight.  She is always on the go – running from one room to the other, climbing on furniture, gently pushing Uncle Shane into the closet for another round of hide-and-seek.  She took a little tumble off the playground slide today, and while I felt bad for her scraped-up palms, those few minutes when she quietly nuzzled into my chest and let me wipe her tears were precious.

Love you, girlies.  So so soooo much.

We’re back from a quick trip to Portland to spend some time with my brother and his family – 24 hours is never enough time to fully love on my nieces, but the cuddles and the games and the Sunday playground time still do a world of good for my soul.  Oh, those girls…

Morgan is asserting her independence more and more, wanting to pour her own milk and zip her own coat and put on her own diaper (all of which eventually necessitate adult intervention, but she’s trying).  She adores Elmo with every fiber of her being and her cuteness will bust your heart open when she dances to the sound of her dad strumming his guitar.  The girl’s got moves.  Thankfully, she’s still got plenty of that sweet little baby-ness left in her, too – she crawled into my lap with her blankey this morning and let me rock her for awhile while she nuzzled into my chest. I soaked in every last second of it, knowing these days of quiet, precious snuggles are numbered.

Elise is all big girl these days.  She’s on a superhero kick lately – she and Uncle Shane spent much of the weekend playing Batman and Robin.  And gosh, she’s smart – she gave me a run for my money during our big memory game tournament yesterday afternoon.  She flies like the wind on her green Glider bike and wants a ukelele for her birthday next month (actually, she wants a purple Tinkerbell guitar, but my brother, the musician, has decided that a nice ukelele is much more dignified).  She’s a little mischievous, and a lot stubborn, but what four-year old isn’t?

So long, kiddos.  Auntie Kelly loves you mucho and misses you already.

Ahhhh, what a very merry Christmas in Portland.  We ate, we lounged, we doted on those two irrestibly sweet little girls.  ‘Tis indeed the season for joy and love and all kinds of thankfulness.

We arrived at Mitch and Kathryn’s on Sunday afternoon, and as usual, Morgan and Elise were quick to warm up to Uncle Shane.  Also as usual, he was wrapped around their little fingers in a matter of seconds – I think he read Good Dog, Carl a total of 14 times in three days.

I had to work a little harder to earn their affection, but it wasn’t anything frosting and cookies couldn’t handle.

We ordered Thai take-out for dinner, played a round of Quiddler, and then were ready to put a bow on Christmas Eve Eve – it had been quite a day.

We were thrilled to see sunshine on Monday morning and headed over to the park for a couple hours of sliding, swinging, and playing in the sand.

Uncle Shane clearly takes the cake as best swing-pusher ever.

The grown-up girls headed out during naptime for a coffee break and a little shopping.  Kathryn, my mom and I strolled down Williams Avenue, ogling the perfect wares at Ink and Peat and then sipping pretty lattes at Ristretto Roasters.

This double-decker dress shop/bus was so…Portland.

My mom whipped up a tasty pot of red lentil and veggie soup for dinner, with some extra special help on the chapati flatbread from two dear little elves.

After dinner, Kathryn, Shane and I loaded the girls in the car and braved the crowds at Peacock Lane to take in all the brightly lit houses and yards.  Morgan and Elise both got a kick out of the whole ordeal – I mean, does it get any better than giant glowing lollipops?

The girls were tuckered out by the time we got home – there wasn’t much resistance to bedtime that night, as we assured them that Santa would be on his way once they were fast asleep.

Elise burst into our room bright and early yesterday morning to shout “MERRY CHRISTMAS!” and urge us to come check out the loot Santa had delivered.  We spent the next hour watching the girls tear into their gifts – Morgan was quick to cuddle and feed her new baby doll and Elise was raring to go on her new roller skates.

The rest of the day was spent lounging around the warm and cozy house as rain fell on a cold, wet Portland.  We played games, we painted with Elise’s new watercolor set, we snuggled up on the couch to watch basketball and doze.

Oh, and for the record, Shane is the favorite for a reason – the lengths that guy will go to for an extra cuddle…  No shame!

I’ve prayed a lot lately for a spirit of gratitude – I’ve mentioned before how hard it can be for me to keep the “don’t-haves” from overshadowing our multitude of blessings.  But my blessings were made so abundantly clear yesterday – a house filled with the giggles of little girls that I love so much it makes my heart ache, the company of a family that makes me feel whole, the tenderness of an incredibly kind and loving husband.  And looking down on all of us, a Savior that came to earth so many years ago to dine with tax collectors and prostitutes, to turn the world’s notion of justice on its head, and to give the ultimate sacrifice.  Because he loves me.

My parents left early this morning and we headed out right behind them.  One final stop at Barista for what may be the best latte I’ve had all year, and then we were homeward bound.

I spent this afternoon in the office and spent this evening unpacking – back to business as usual, I suppose.  I’m hoping my post-holiday letdown can be warded off with chocolate and a living room screening of Love Actually.  I’ll let you know how that goes…

I’m still coming down off a pretty perfect weekend in Portland – we ate, we sun-soaked, we raised our glasses to my brother for his birthday, and best of all, I reveled in some high-quality time with those super-precious nieces of mine.

We kicked off our Portland bonanza at the Saturday Farmer’s Market with Jack and La Verne, who happened to be day-tripping in the city. We laid on the lawn and stuffed ourselves with Italian sausages and the notorious fried chicken/bacon/cheese/fried egg sandwich from Pine State Biscuit (how can something so bad be sooooo good?).  Post-lunch, we stumbled down the aisles in a full-belly haze and picked up a few peaches and cartons of berries, bid farewell to the Chens, and headed over to Mitch’s place.

I prepared myself to find Morgan and Elise much-changed since the last time I saw them, but despite any growth, they turned out to be the same sweet, fun-loving little girls.  Our first stop is always the playground, and Elise was quick to hop and her bike and show Uncle Shane her skills while I watched Morgan go bonkers over the fact that she’s now big enough to climb to the top of the slide and go down it all by herself.

My parents were in town for the weekend and it was a treat to gather around the table and celebrate Mitch and Kathryn’s upcoming birthdays with mojitos, enchiladas, and juicy fruit skewers hot off the grill.  It was like Christmas in July, having the family together.

One more trip to the nearby park on Sunday morning, and then it was time for Shane to head home, all to soon.  I had decided to stay until Monday and take the train back to Seattle, so I settled in for another day of enjoying Portland’s finest (namely, Morgan and Elise).  We read books and stacked blocks and played in the water – never a dull moment…

We spent Sunday evening picnicking at Peninsula Park, enjoying grilled chicken and the free symphony concert.  The rose garden was stunning in the late-day sun, and the sound of so many kids running barefoot through the grass couldn’t have been more quintessentially summer-iffic.

Mitch and Kathryn were back at work Monday morning and my train didn’t leave until 6 pm, so my parents and I packed up the girls and headed out for a little adventure on Sauvie Island.  This little island, just 20 minutes from the city, is home to the best u-pick farm I have ever laid eyes on.  Rows upon rows of raspberries, blueberries, marion berries, peach trees, cabbage, cucumbers, the list goes on and on.  We went right to work – my mom and I grabbed our containers and started on the raspberries with Elise while my dad set out for the blueberry bushes with Morgan.   Elise was a great little helper, although I think she put five berries in her mouth for each one she put in the bin – far be it from me to deny that girl such pure summer pleasure! I checked in with my dad and Morgan and found that it was much the same situation – her belly was looking a little more round than usual with all her expert foraging.  We drove away with quite the bounty of berries and peaches.  At two dollars a pound, I’m calling this the deal of the year!

We grabbed a quick lunch and headed home for naptime.  I read Morgan her Clifford and Animal Sounds books for the fourteenth time and tucked her into her crib.  Elise and I snuggled up with her latest issue of Highlights for some quiet time and then I dozed while she sang and squirmed and did everything in her power to resist sleep (that girl did not inherit her aunt’s proclivity toward napping!).

The rest of the afternoon was spent lounging in the backyard, watching the girls play in the kiddie pool and water the plants with their squirt gun and plastic cups.  I drank a glass of wine with my mom and listened to my dad wish Grandaddy an early Happy Birthday on the phone and felt so incredibly blessed.  The past couple of days were filled with so many simple moments of the perfect joy that comes with being surrounded by people you love.  Morgan’s sweet giggle, a tender hug of encouragement from my mom, an afternoon of watching my dad play with building blocks (with and without the kids!), and my cup overfloweth.

Today is my big brother’s 35th birthday – although getting older is a little less fun once you hit your thirties, I do appreciate the way that the five-year gap between us seems to shrink in significance as the years go by.  I just got home from a couple of days in Portland and am feeling especially impressed with the man Mitch has become.  I mean, seriously, is this cool dad with the sleeve tattoos and the acoustic guitar and the bookshelf full of sophisticated literature the same guy that endured the seventh grade with coke-bottle glasses and MC Hammer piping through his Walkman?

Despite his ummm… awkward phase, I have always been the kid sister that looked up to her cool older brother.  When we were little, I longed to climb into the backyard sandbox and play GI Joe with Mitch and his friends.  When he became a teenager and discovered the grunge scene, I watched Pearl Jam videos with him on MTV and respectfully held back from my usual pestering when he got news of Kurt Cobain’s death.  When he graduated from high school and moved to Portland, I visited him in his apartment near Hawthorne and envied the urban lifestyle he lived, full of music and bus rides and tattooed friends in bands.  When he came to visit me during my year abroad and we traveled to Barcelona together, I was struck by his knowledge of Gaudi and the ease with which he ordered a plate of olives and a glass of wine at a sidewalk cafe.  When he married Kathryn in 2005, I thanked God that he’d found a beautiful woman so perfect for him and laughed as we all danced barefoot under the trees to the live bluegrass band.  When he became a dad four years ago, I nearly cried over the surprising tenderness with which he held his little girl.

And today, I wish a very happy birthday to my swell big bro – loving father, wine connoisseur, expert on boring Spanish Civil War novels.  Cheers, Mitch.  I think we’ve both come a long way since those good ol’ days…

We got back this evening from a quick trip down to Portland for some quality time with my brother and his family.  And oooooh, girlies, why do you have to grow so fast?  Morgan and Elise continue to surprise us with how quickly they change, and while I get so much joy out of seeing them develop into little people with strong personalities and opinions and adorable little mannerisms, I also wish I could freeze time between visits, so that I don’t miss all the sweet moments in between.

Elise is still the same funny, strong-willed, giggling kid, but she’s chatting so much more now, using words to describe feelings or memories or the wild contents of her imagination.  She was singing a song this morning with a lyric that contained the word “bask” – she paused after this line to explain to me very matter-of-factly that bask means “to sit in the sun”.  Quite the vocabulary on that girl.  And don’t even bother trying to do the secret spelling thing around her (should we go to the P-A-R-K, or let her watch a M-O-V-I-E?) – she wasn’t fooled for a second.  She loves books almost as she loves the P-A-R-K, and she spent much of yesterday evening bouncing between Shane’s and my laps while we worked our way through her stack of library books.  She also loves her Uncle Shane somethin’ fierce.  And I can’t blame her – he really is the best kind of playground partner.

And Morgan… sweet, sweet Morgan.  That girl has my heart wrapped around her little finger.  She does this thing where she shrugs her shoulders while tilting her head and wrinkling that little nose and you can’t stop yourself from scooping her into your arms and kissing those soft baby cheeks.  She’s already got an imagination to match her sister’s, as she was pulling invisible food out of her toy car last night, holding it up to my mouth and making smacking noises with her lips as a cue for me to eat whatever kind of tasty meal she had prepared in her mind.  Our cuddle sessions are fewer and farther between, as she wants to constantly be on the go, but when she holds her arms out to you and lets you cradle her against your chest, you feel like the luckiest person in the world.

I suppose I can accept that growth and change and the loss of baby-hood is inevitable – the big brown eyes on these little ladies will still forever win me over.

It’s been too long since we’ve seen those darling little girlies, so we headed down to Portland yesterday morning for a couple of days of  catching up with my brother’s family.  It was a quick trip, but so good for my soul – Elise and Morgan continue to be lights of my life, and I’m so, so thankful for our quality time with Mitch and Kathryn.

It was a sunshiny afternoon when we arrived and we were eager to get in a quick run to the playground before naptime.  Morgan is suddenly very quick on her feet – gone are the days of her scooting around on her chubby little arms and legs (sigh).  And Elise is nearly impossible to keep up with – that little lady’s abundance of energy astounds me.

We played hard, and then rested hard.  Uncle Shane tucked Elise in for her nap, and Morgan snuggled up with me in the living room.  Best feeling ever.

Kathryn booked a sitter for the evening and so the grown-ups went out for a night on the town.  We feasted on Indian food while chatting about family and travel and current events – I feel so lucky that the four of us enjoy each other’s company so much.  It’s a good, good thing when the family and friends are one and the same.

I love waking up to the sound of the girls chatting on Sunday mornings, getting out of bed and poking my head into the kitchen, where I’m greeted with smiles and sweetness and plans for a day of fun and play.

I promised Elise a special treat from the neighborhood coffee shop, so we bundled up and headed over to Posies for bagels and orange juice.

Elise was intent on stopping at the park on the way home, and so we spent awhile playing on the swings (huge hit), testing out the teeter-totter (not a huge hit), and climbing/crawling/sliding on the jungle gym.  Shane takes the cake as best swing-pusher ever – Elise squealed in delight as he propelled her from behind, from in front, and from…below.  Silly Uncle Shane.

We went back to the house and tea-partied and read and played music – Elise sang her own rendition of Five Little Monkeys Jumping on the Bed and strummed her guitar.  Mitch has high hopes for this one.

Morgan’s not quite ready for sing-a-longs yet, but what she lacks in verbal skills she makes up for in facial expressions.  Her winning grin is a guaranteed heart-melter.

Praise God for family and babies and Indian food and sunshine.  Life is grand.