You can pack a lot into a morning when you’re 17 months old.
Play on your brother’s freshly made bed.
Put a bowl on your head.
Climb on the dog.
Kiss the dog’s foot.
Kiss the dog’s face.
Open and close a door 17 times.
Insist on wearing three pairs of underwear that are 4 sizes too big. At the same time.
All that and more, really.
I realize I’ve been a deliquent blogger. I blame sick children, summer FOMO, working outside the home, and to-do lists a mile long. If you’re one of my eight regular readers who isn’t on my facebook and is wondering how things are going around here, I had to go back to the walk-in clinic for a third time, two days after our last trip. I brought Ivy because she was having trouble with her ears again, and got Oliver checked out while I was there, just because he seemed kind of out of it. Ivy had another ear infection, and Oliver had tonsillitis and bronchitis. Six days later, I think everyone’s pretty much healthy. Ben seems to have skipped this virus, knock on wood and thank goodness.
Hope to be back here one day soon, but no promises.