Right now I sit cross legged typing this on a pillow stacked laptop while Andrew changes Aston in the nursery next door. I hear the words, "it's all the way up your back" and "hold on psycho" and "OHMYGOODNESSthatwasnotnice" which means the diaper is a number two and I should probably go help him. In a minute.
I came here to write about summer ending.
It happened so quickly.
Andrew's parents visited. I was sick, so we canceled our trip to Chicago. Andrew was overwhelmed with work. We discovered that one of the dogs needs dental surgery. Five of our air conditioners went out, we had two roof leaks, a glass door shatter, and two plumbing issues, across six properties in nearly as many cities.
There was also long curly hair and tiny wet kisses. Milk breath. Slides at the park. Peek-a-boo. Seashells. Dirty overalls. Dirty t-shirts. Dirty diapers. EPIC DIRTY DIAPERS. MommaMommaMomma. Hugs. Big hugs. The. Biggest. Hugs. Ever. Froyo. Tantrums. Moonwalking. Princess Sophia. Broccoli bribes. Parties.
It was good. Crazy. Crazy good.
(I'll be back soon with our latest living room. That naked kid leaping off the Breuer chair in the last photo is your preview.)
p.s. This post was originally titled All Good Things Must End, but it was making me sad. So I changed it.