One of my major goals this summer was to be home every morning so Andrew could take his morning nap. Because, let's face it folks, napping is at the top of my goals list. Now, John may have had a different goal--like making sure Becca got more comfortable with the idea of swimming. But, not me. I went back to my fanatical, "Do NOT mess with the nap schedule" mindset. I learned it from my mom. If it meant I had to leave the house before 11 a.m. I was not doing it. And so the summer unfolded. Rapidly. Before I know what has happened everything is about Back to School and Beware of Quickly Spreading Pandemics. The baby is walking. The pre-schooler is completely potty-trained. The baby is sleeping through the night (oh please Lord don't smite me because I put it in print.) The pre-schooler can finally ride her tricycle.
We've colored every My Little Pony coloring page in existence on the Web. We've played with every toy in the house. We've discovered the joy of sharpening colored pencils. We've left the lid off of the sandbox through a few too many rain showers. We've found and captured and tortured every toad within a 2 block radius. We've travelled. We've gone to the creek. We've gone fishing. We've had swim lessons and gymnastics class. We've had visitors. We've eaten fresh peach pie. We've had picnics and gone to playgrounds. We've done the summer reading program at the library. We've gone to the pool and the gym. And, most importantly, most importantly, we've napped.