Lately I've been wanting to write on my blog, I even write out blog posts in my head while I'm doing other things (as one does). But it feels like such a commitment. Like, if I write on my blog once this month and not again, then it would have been better if I hadn't written at all.
I'm fairly sure I could write a nice long motivational talk on why that isn't true. But it still feels true.
As you probably know, I basically haven't taken any pictures for a year.
I take a few here or there, on special occasions like birthdays. But hardly ever any other time.
But the last few weeks, August has become very interested in pouring over our family photo albums, and it breaks my heart that our 2015 is going to be so skimpy. I feel encouraged to actually take pictures again! And pictures lead to blog posts, because I like to share the cuteness.
Here are some pictures of the boys from recently. I've taken several posed pictures in the last month, ("Go sit under the blossom tree and read a book.") but these are extra precious, because they are not posed. Micah and I were sitting under the linden tree in the front yard, while he twisted little twigs in his hands and we talked. Then he hopped up to show me how his rope-climbing was improving.
I love this picture of his hands, so much. They've changed so much from the tiny dimpled hands that they used to be, and yet they're still so small. They look exactly like minature versions of Travis' hands right now. Even the nails are shaped the same, and his knobbly knuckles are dry in the same places.
I've tried to encourage the boys to help and participate in the garden, but it turns out their favorite place is where nothing is planted and they can go crazy with the mud!
And here is sweet August in his swing. His birthday is this weekend, and I think he really needs a new swing as his gift- this pathetic thing was given to me for free, and it is now cracked and only one buckle works and the strap is too tight, but can't be loosened! It's very pathetic. And yet, August loves this swing. Now that he has the chickens, he forgets about the swing- it's true. But whenever he takes a forced hiatus from the chicken coop (as is sometimes necessary, tragically) he heads straight for the swing. He'd be content to have me push him for an hour straight or longer.
He isn't a baby. I guess I know that.
But it's still hard to believe. Two seems so very big and so very little all at once.
This picture is my favorite.