Little Bits: Owning Up

We have been road tripping a lot lately and just a weekend ago we made another small one to celebrate an adorable friend as she turned two. Her mama put on a watermelon day at the grandparents' lake house, which is only about an hour from us.


What a delicious lot of fun!

By the end of the night as we got home and tucked the realllll-y worn out girls into their beds Hope woke up just enough to say, "There's nothing like being cozy in your own bed in your own house, Mom." Then she shut her little eyes and drifted off before I could barely laugh and say, "I agree."

With that we have taken the last week to settle in, to just be. To be in our own house, in our own element, in our own town. To own up to this being home now and treating it less like a weird extended vacation. It was a rich week of being pretty normal, and it did us all good.

I am so thankful every day, even on the challenging days, to be home with these my girls.

Some little bits from here to there:

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Spaghetti night. Really that bib was a bit of overkill, don't you think?
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I love walking in on this. Sisters reading to each other? Yes, please.
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Our back deck is proving to be a favorite spot. Grandpa and Grandma Martins got the girls a sand and water table, which is especially fun when filled with soap suds for a giant Little People bathtub. Play doh in a house Auntie Brooke got for Hope's first birthday can bring a solid hour or more of enjoyment. And smoothies, as Alysse's once again splattered face proves, are best when underneath the huge magnolia tree that welcomingly shades the side they play on.

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Speaking of solid hours on end... my children love coloring books. They color the characters, however, and then cut them all out. After that they spend forever playing with these new paper friends. This is one of their absolute favorite things to do, and I love hearing the dialogue and plots they come up with! Even if someone inevitably narrates something that makes me wonder how they can sound like me sounding like my mother, even though I said I'd never say any of that.
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Dancing. Thanks to me finally joining Joe in enjoying the iPod my brother got us, oh, about two Christmases or so ago. A playlist that reads, "Jamming with the Kids" gives us this...

And this, right out of the gate and first thing in the morning.
Well, for some of us. Alysse, I feel you baby girl.
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Peach ice-cream topped with nutella and fruit chews and sprinkles. Someone finally did some big business in the potty, a major and l-o-n-g coming accomplishment! So proud, even if she told a fib two days later to try and get a repeat treat. Nice try, Maddie Girl.

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A yard sale to celebrate the last of the boxes being put by the curb on trash day and to help fill up piggy banks running dry. Our lemonade stand made it to Virginia, much to the girls' delight.
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That sounded like a lovely thing. In reality the Friday by myself part of the yard sale was pretty chaotic and sent us inside for middle of the day baths, puzzles, and an extra long rest time. That, indeed, was lovely.
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Their faces when Julie Andrews finally makes her debut after that long introduction in "The Sound of Music" during another after lunch rest time.
M: "Here she comes, Hope!!!"
H: "Oh, yeah!"
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We finished decorating Joe's office and the girls are over the moon when we visit him working hard to prepare for the coming semester. We had the second of playdates with some neighbors down the street who, amazingly, have three girls similar in ages to ours. I baked a french toast concoction, put out some fresh fruit and veggies, and enjoyed our very first houseguests. That all felt kind of normal, actually.

Especially when the houseguests came back during the yard sale crazy and there was no yummy smelling french toast, candles lit, shiny floors, or toys tucked perfectly into their designated crates. Because, honestly, that's where real and good friendship comes from anyway.

These little bits are the stuff life is made of, the stuff that lays the foundation for the bigger stuff that is to come. I still have to stop periodically to quiet the ache that moving here left behind, yet I'm encouraged to say that we're owning up to life around here.

That truly does feel pretty groovy .
~Katrina