A final birthday package arrived today for our 2-year-old! This time from Aunt Laura and Uncle Ryan.
Katrina had been scribbling in every book and scrap of paper in the family room with a green crayon, but she paused long enough to open her gifts and fall in love with the softest bunny I've ever felt. Then she wrapped the bunny in a half-Nelson, and continued on with her graffiti, starting with the cute birthday card.
Next was the beautiful new book too! Whoops.
I quickly dropped the camera and put it in safer hands. Our burgeoning bookworm was all too happy to be its keeper.
I didn't put her up to this, she started this adorable "hop hop" game herself.
More hop-hop and coloring.
With one of Julian's blinky shoes, no less. (Where are Stacy and Clinton when you need them?)
Thank you Aunt Laura and Uncle Ryan!!
One of numerous reasons I'm getting very anxious to move back home -- silly because it's still many months away -- is because it will be so easy to have visitors. We could have visitors now too -- I'd never let accommodations stand in the way of a visit -- but the guest suite really will make it very easy and comfortable. We haven't seen our SoCal relatives in months -- far far too long.
After Katrina was in bed, I heard Gabriel practicing something I hadn't heard before. His piano teacher John does duets with him, and Gabriel was playing both parts just for fun (not at the same time).
(In the beginning he says he's playing a duet, and Julian is talking too.)
(Can I just indulge in a moment of bursting pride? He really could be good someday.)
I was relentlessly, painfully, miserably tired all day. I went running this morning before work, a short hilly run but it was absolutely beautiful out and I felt pretty good. But I wish I'd taken a nap at home afterward. Less than an hour of extra sleep turns the day from an minute-by-minute ordeal into feeling pretty normal. It's like I have some migraine symptoms all the time now, and without a nap I'm barely functional. An incredibly boring job doesn't help either.
Whine whine. I'd rather hop hop.