A summer haze floods the lens of my camera

as it sits heavily in my palm,

making me squint and shield my eyes in its golden glare.

The viewfinder finds my children drooping limply on the front steps;

four wilted noodles beneath an unrelenting sun.

Bikes abandoned and forlorn on the sidewalk,

swings still and swaying slowly in the tree;

casualties of the lethargy and lassitude

that slides stickily down their persons to wetly splash

into the sticky puddle of sweat and popsicle juice

at their feet.

The shutter clicks

and we file gratefully into the cool blue shadows,

asylum seekers of the Great Indoors.  

“I have my hands in the river, I have my hands in the river, I have my hands in the river of my soul….” -Zion singing to himself 

(Correct words are:  I’ve got peace like a river, I’ve got peace like a river, I’ve got peace like a river in my soul…” and where you make rippling motions with your fingers to indicate the river)

We moved Layla to a “big girl bed” this past week.  We used one of the unused top bunks from the boys room.  She seems pretty happy with it.  I was ready to move her into a normal bed so that sometimes I can lay down with her instead of having to always rock her to sleep in the rocking chair in her room.  Tonight was her third night in it, and for some reason she was exceptionally wired and chatty as she sat in my lap in the chair, busily looking around the room and telling me lots and lots of stories about a pink car that she has, and riding in her pink car with Zion, and talking about spiders and killing spiders, and Grandma and swinging on the swing with Grandma and hearing a helicopter and going to see it and coming back to the swing and having popcorn…I eventually decided to carry on the conversation in her bed while I laid down with my weary eyes closed.  She tossed and turned and chattered and snuggled and hugged me close a good bit longer.  But the highlight of my day was when I found her little padded chin resting on my forehead, and her little chubby arm flung around my neck squeezing tightly, tucking my face and nose into her soft little neck.  It was just about the dearest feeling in the world.    She went back to squirming and chatting a bit longer, and then sort of suddenly fell asleep, tucked up against me with her back to my chest.  

Tim and I discussed her tonight before she went to bed, and sorely doubt that she could possibly be any cuter than she already is.  

This bed change has led to her generally sleeping all through the night, and instead of waking very crankily and wailing miserably for MAMA!!! AND ONLY MAMA!!! in the mornings, she will roll out of bed and pad off to find her brothers, or this morning, she steered her little paddy-paws into our room, climbed up into our bed, nestled close to her mama, and went back to sleep. 

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I have been in serious nesting mode, even this early on in the pregnancy.  I’m 24 weeks this week.  Have LOTS of projects to get done by October 20!!  I busily rearranged closets, and am mid-project in rearranging the attic.    I have clothing boxes galore scattered throughout the house, and have gone through all of the various bags of clothes crammed hither and yon up there to make them easily accessible when I need them, since the baby will be born right at the change-of-seasonal-clothing time of year.  

It makes me werrry werrry happy.  

My attic, by the way, is basically a hunch-over-and-sweat-profusely-while-getting-your-head-and-backbone-scraped-with-protruding-nails-at-least-four-times sort of attic.  Very delightful space.  (But honestly one I’m grateful to have!!) 

Other essential plans include: sell two bookcases and lots of boy baby clothes, move living room bookcase to bedroom, and have Tim install massive bookshelves in the living room.  Very excited about the last part of this plan.  

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In pregnancy news, all is well.  In cravings news, pretty sure I could eat tomato and cheese sandwiches for every meal until the end of my pregnancy and be just peachy.  In naming the baby news…much mental labor is required.  Working up quite a sweat over here about it, I am.  SO. HARD. TO. FIGURE. OUT.  Lots of great names out there…but hardly any seem right.  LOVE the name Isabella.  Feels completely wrong for this baby.  Plus Tim and I each nix each others names.  Back to work.  Much mental toil remains.

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Layla LOOOOVES to swing in her little blue swing that I found for $4 at Goodwill last year.  She wants her buckle done, and then happily asks to “go high in the sky!!” and cackles and laughs with delight for a loong time.  She will sit in it, even without anyone to push for, for seriously close to an hour.