Summer is in full swing. The girls love to “paint” the house with sidewalk chalk, or help mommy out by filling their Easter baskets with weeds. They run from sprinklers to the pool to the playground, to lining rocks up carefully on the railroad tie in the backyard, to nonchalantly pouring water from a play water bin over each other’s heads when the other isn’t looking. Screaming happens, but laughing usually isn’t far behind (as long as they get even; Liv is learning what “even steven” means).
The main downside to summertime, according to Natalie, would be moths; despite my reassurance that all they do is fly, she’s very distrustful of them and tattles to whoever will listen about what they are doing, where, and when. Daddy is often the one retrieved to get rid of them, and with a watchful Natalie eye; I think she wonders why he lets them go outside–squishing would be permanent, right?
In the evening, my girls go to bed fresh from a bath, hair dark, damp and cool, and I love smelling fresh children after hot, grimy afternoons, as fun as it is to get dirty. We tuck them in before it’s fully dark, and they recharge their toddler-batteries for more playtime the next day. I wish I had toddler batteries… Every morning now begins with, “Where are we going today, Mommy?”
(They are disappointed if I say we are staying home, unless Frozen or Tangled are in the lineup of Things to Do.)
I am loving these days, this season with talkative little girls before the Boy arrives, and I’m also finding myself beginning to teeter on the edge of uncomfortableness… the wonderful and dreadful third trimester, full of waddling and shortness of breath and asking my 4-year-old to retrieve everything I seem to drop these days. “It’s cause you can’t touch your toes, huh Mommy?” she says. “I’ll help you.” Liv has affectionately nicknamed our baby RolyPoly.
Roly is growing steadily and moving constantly, much more than either of my girls did. He’s our “frog gunslinging cowboy”–another name he earned yesterday, when he kicked his legs simultaneously into my ribs at the same time, one on each side. Made me laugh. If he’s not doing that, he’s going “pew pew pew” with his little gunslinger hands near my hips when I sit. Oh, he’s going to liven up our lives, and I can’t wait to meet him.
Instagram has been a fun outlet lately; it’s just so easy to share little snippets of life without much explanation… which isn’t my usual style (look at this post, right?), but it’s been a fun medium to play with. I realized I should probably keep up with the blog a little, especially while I still have some free time before baby comes. I believe in photos in blog posts, so thank you, my Instgram feed, for punctuating this one!
Aside from waddling, I’m also entering that phase in pregnancy where you begin to realize things are changing. And for the better, of course! A new little person to love, what beats that?
But I felt this way before Natalie was born, too–that gentle concern that how things are right now, between the four of us, will never be replicated. I’m excited, and a little sad at the same time. Yeah, crying has been happening at random times, and I happily blame hormones… but I’m also thankful to process everything and store it away in my heart as we move forward. It will always be there–and, if anything, being pregnant again (and finally) has reopened memories saved before Olivia and Natalie’s birth, little lockets full of treasures, just for me. Tears are a good thing, a deep thing. Being a mother is no easy feat!