We took our party of 5 to the pool this afternoon for what was likely the last time this summer. The water is starting to get cool, but the crowd was still thick- probably doing the same thing we were. Trying to soak up the last seconds of a summer gone too fast.

Today was nearly perfect in its imperfectness. Homemade waffles and a neighborhood stroll with the boys in the morning. A midday nap with the baby. An afternoon at the pool. An evening with family.

Emma Kate’s first homework assignment was to collect items in a paper bag to represent her summer. I realized, as we were looking to collect, that we did a lot of nothing this summer. And you know what… that is OK with me. Memories of the everyday, simple stuff are sometimes the best anyway.

Farewell dear summer. We will miss your morning bike rides in the sweltering heat; your Saturday mornings at the farmer’s market; your endless days of Battleship, Apples to Apples, Connect Four, and Go Fish; your lazy afternoons at the pool; your days of building forts; your museum outings; and the perfect opportunity you present for having a lemonade stand.

Until we meet again.

Today my heart walked into Kindergarten. And he didn’t look back, not even for one tiny heartbeat of a second. With his big boy shoes and his backpack as large as he is, he just walked right in and started doing his thing. I love how ready he is. For this next era in our lives. Much readier than I am.

And you know what? At the end of the day, he asked me if I was OK. Seriously sweet. And oh so big.

The thing about being a sick mommy isn’t the fact that I feel so crummy. It’s that I can’t stop and take care of me in order to take better care of THEM.

Jack often says, “I would rather be sick/hurt than Liam.” So sweet. So admirable.

I just want to curl up on the couch and watch mindless tv.

{But I will probably go do laundry instead.}

Third child syndrome is a true condition. At least it is so in our busy, chaotic, {loving} home. While we may not be sure the exact date Liam cut his first tooth and we may not have ONE SINGLE picture of baby Liam hanging on the wall, we do offer ten loving arms in our party of 5. Surely multiple goodnight snuggles from big sister and big brother are worth more than a picture on the wall. Right??

{including this pic for Mawmaw}

He did it. Daddy put the pedals back on, and he rode. Just like that.

I spent an amazing morning with my love-lys. Riding bikes. Swinging together on a wooden swing hanging from a 100-year old tree. Exploring. Grabbing homegrown veggies from the local farmer’s market.

Jack has a new bike. And it is truly awesome (he thinks so too). It is designed as a balance bike so that the pedals are easy to remove. He uses it to scoot around and practice balance before moving to riding without training wheels. Jack’s got the hang of it already- he wants the pedals put on. He longs to be a big boy. He is balanced.

And so am I.

Today my kids experienced a little bit of my childhood.

Riding in the back of a pick-up truck {gasp}
Wading in the river
Observing deer
Watching fireworks {smuggled from South Carolina, of course}

All in the beautiful North Carolina foothills.

{A big thank you to Rex, Diane, & family for hosting family togetherness on the 4th}

Addendum:
Hmmm. Now I am left wondering… what was the give-away that I am still nursing? The sling? The healthy (18.5 pounds worth of healthy) baby boy?

Today, as I sat on the beach watching the littlest one play in the sand, I found myself humming an old Natalie Merchant favorite…

these are the days you’ll remember
never before and never since, I promise
will the whole world be as warm as this
and as you feel it, you’ll know it’s true
that you are blessed and lucky

And, I realize THESE are THE days. The days we will remember. The days we too soon will long for.

It’s easy to get caught up in the every day challenges of raising three children. Three meals (at least) a day to worry about. Backpacks to ready. Teeth to brush. Diapers to change. Books to read. Games to play. Guidance to give. And the list goes on and on. And, it’s SO easy to dwell in the difficulties of right now, without realizing the simple joy in the every day stuff.

Sometimes I dream about relaxing on the beach, reading  a book, sipping coffee. Just being. Yet, the sound of my children laughing, playing in the ocean quickly breaks this reverie, reminding me what I love most- watching my children be happy, really truly happy.

these are the days
that you might fill with laughter
until you break