First there was the Independence Day bike parade in my sister's neighborhood. It was the BEST bike parade ever, because Joe took the girls out in the 3-digit heat while I selflessly volunteered to skip it and stay inside while Waylon napped at his aunt's. I gave myself a pedicure and read US Weekly in the air conditioning. I have to say, this was a huge improvement over last year's bike parade.
[Joe in charge of bike parade = no photos of it. Maybe Beth will blog hers?]
Later that afternoon it was blueberry pie making time.
{This is me mocking myself. I've been really irritable lately, getting angrier with the kids than I would like to. I'm working on it. Anyway, this is my stern, "Stop eating flour!" face.}
Who, us, drive you crazy, Mama? Couldn't be.
{Thanks for the onesie, Nana.}
Next we made good on our promise to give Georgia her big girl bike and took our first stab at teaching her to ride it. After everyone's suggestions of when to grant her wish for a two wheeler, we decided to compromise and let her have the bike before her birthday, but make her earn it by practicing riding on her balance bike 10 times. She enjoys her balance bike but was still a bit lazy about working toward this goal, so it took about a month. Still, I think it was a win-win, because her transition to the big girl bike took all of about 5 minutes before she was doing it on her own. I'm now a big believer in the whole balance bike theory of skipping training wheels if you want.
We got the bike used from Craigslist and it is a bit large and heavy for her to get started, but I guess she'll grow into it. Until then, she still needs a little push.
{I would like to note that the knee pads were her idea. The artificial turf was ours.}
Look who graduated to the balance bike and got a new helmet of her own? June was pleased as punch.
Let's not forget Waylon, the hot, sweaty, supportive little brother.
For posterity, here's a little video of Georgia on her bike. I'm not sharing the video of me running along side her in which I somewhat resemble an injured ostrich chasing a cyclist.
(Note: June is actually being sweet to Waylon, not mean, by "watering" him at the end of this clip. It was 102 degrees and as humid as all get out.)
Next up on the agenda: going straight from biking to cooling off in the pool. The stroller quickly transformed into a snack bar. Add beer and some Pandora radio, and the next thing you know you've got a dance party.
Look at my manly men all comfortable with their masculinity: Joe gettin' down, and Waylon chillin' in his pink diaper.
Since Georgia got a feature video in this post, I think June deserves one, too:
[I started to say something to the effect of, "I hope she's always this comfortable in her own skin, and still rockin' out in her swimsuit when she's 80." Then I realized that I actually pray there is an interim period beginning at about age 13 when she does not gyrate in a bikini quite so freely.]
The after-party was a three kid bath event.
Followed by dinner, courtesy of Joe's giant cleaver that I got him for Father's Day (to balance out his other gift of a sewing class). Renaissance man, I tell you what.
Finally it was bedtime for Waylon, and pie time for the rest of us on our building's rooftop in order to best view the wonder that is the fireworks of Logan Square. As you can see from the photo below, though, June was not a fan of the explosions, so we quickly relocated. There was no point even attempting to get the girls to sleep amidst such noise, so the next thing we knew, all four of us were snuggled in bed watching the display out our sliding glass porch door. There are not many neighborhoods in America where you can manage to watch the 4th of July fireworks from your own bed, so we just sat back and enjoyed it.
{Pardon me for savoring these memories of the pie, but we have since put ourselves on another sugar detox/semi-"primal" way of eating.}
{Ha! I just thought the window would provide good lighting. This shot was not intended to look seductive.}
And then everyone slept in the next morning. (I had to wake June at 9:30.) The End.
A Little Chef's Card Victory
11 years ago
6 comments:
This is one of the wonderfully comprehensive posts that I will need to revisit many times to get the whole thing. LOVE IT!!!
- Tom T.
I love that last picture. Is that pie all over her face?
Great looking pie (and family)!
yep, pie. and a napkin spread on her chest. : )
Um, Aunt Beth wants to know.... Wasn't there some lame excuse about why you suddenly couldn't bring a pie to my house that day? But then you managed to produce one 2 hours later? Suspicious, lady! (i.e. pie-hoarder!)
Um, dude, I am not a pie hoarder! Bringing a pie to your house was going to mean needing to have it totally done and cooled by 9 A.M.! Which was going to mean cooking it the day before. Which would have killed me at the time.
Making it with assistants at a leisurely pace the next afternoon was a MUCH different proposition.
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