It's been a back-and-forth week here weather-wise, and lots of light and dark because of what's going on at our house, and that theme is enough for me to hang this flimsy excuse of a blog post on. Today it's gray and rainy, but yesterday was a perfect Spring day that saw us heading to the playground at Green Lake to catch up with our PEPS friends. Of course, all the kids look adorable and in good health and cute as the cutest buttons ever buttoned. NJ particularly enjoyed her time on the swing.
The weekend before featured an equally nice day, so the fam headed to Gas Works Park for some fresh air and leisure time.
Somebody's got a new favorite hat ...
And on Mother's Day we went to the beach at Golden Gardens, where it was cool but still very nice.
Every day should be like this. Every single one.
The sunlight you see in these pics stands in stark contrast to today's winter-once-more gray skies, or the interior of our house this past week (up until Friday evening). We're getting the house painted, and all the windows -- all of them -- have been taped and papered up. It's been a little crazy-making for me, working at home; I've felt a bit like a terrorist in a safe house (minus the porn and Navy SEALs). The first day of blacked-out windows, NJ noticed right away and kept pointing to the windows and exclaiming, "Dark!" The second day she'd apparently had it explained to her by The Wife. When she said, "Dark!" I agreed heartily and then NJ looked at me with a serious look on her face, leaned forward and opined, "Paint the house. Paint the house."
Not pictured: NJ's experiment with a Hitler mustache made of damp sand.
She's stringing together lots of words into phrases and sentences these days, but doesn't use them for long and resists Dad Solo's nostalgic "Hey, remember when you used to say "Paint the house," like a day ago?" attempts at recreating the very near past. Still, it's a lot of fun hearing what comes out of her yap. Yesterday she sat in my lap and watched an Elmo video on this computer, and at one point she looked up at me and, very seriously, issued two sentences of pure gibberish (except for "Elmo"). She arched an eyebrow and gave me a "Right?" look before turning back to the screen.
The kids' picnic furniture I assembled yesterday is not seeing any action today, other than rain.