There is a plague of mosquitos here, a kids-can’t-play-outside plague. I thought Holly had chicken pox, then I realized it was just a million bites from walking outside to wave to the garbage men.
Holly is on the move. She’s not so much crawling on her hands and knees as pushing herself forward on sheer force of will. If there is a grubby boot or a coffee grinder to be found, she must have it!
Rush and Tate are slowly and gradually slipping into the new school routine. Evenings are flowing more smoothly and every night includes a little less melt down time. I didn’t even melt down at all for the past two nights!
Out of the blue conversation with Tate-
Tate: Good moms aren’t nice.
Me: That’s right! Where did you learn that?
Tate: From you!
And that’s that.
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