In the depths of winter, when it is too cold to leave the house, I imagine summer as the perfect season. In my imagination summer is idyllic, with lazy days spent playing in the sun, visits with friends on the patio over chilled sauvignon blanc, and impromptu pizza parties where we let the kids stay up too late. That sort of summer day rarely happens, but today it did.
This morning we met my cousin (who happens to be one of my best friends) and her two boys at a nature playscape outside of town. The kids played in the water while Claire and I caught up. Her oldest was such a good helper for Elliot. Elliot can be shy around new kids, but he loved playing with Thomas. Please note that Elliot chooses his own clothes, and I do not make him wear a safety vest out in public (although it is really handy to find him in a group of kids when he is wearing a reflective vest).
This afternoon they installed a new gas line for our house (Have I mentioned that they are redoing our street? Or that it is expected to take over a year? Or that it is delaying us putting our house on the market so we can move out of our glorified tiny home?). Elliot was very excited to see both a backhoe and a little excavator in our yard, so he wanted to check it all out.
This afternoon Kirsten and her family stopped over to play (you may remember her from every single post about St. Louis or camping. We make bad decisions together, like the time we took four kids under four camping for Mother’s Day).
We’ve been playing in our yard a lot lately. My lettuce died, so instead of cleaning out the planter I’ve started calling it a mud kitchen and letting the kids play in it. It is a hit.
I’ve also discovered if you give kids a bag of peanuts in the shell you get about 30 minutes of time to drink wine and talk with your friend.
We were having so much fun John eventually ordered pizza and went to pick it up. Kirsten and I caught up and made plans, the kids played, and Rob and John drank beer and got annoyed with us.
Kirsten told John we messed up. Our girls are three months apart. Our boys are three weeks apart. She thinks we should have gone for three days apart. That isn’t in the cards for us, but I sure do love snuggling this little guy every time I see him.
After the kids were in bed I headed out on a walk to finish up my 10k steps. It was a great time to reflect on what a nice day it was. I am blessed with wonderful friends, and I am so thankful for perfect summer days.