he scoots; she strolls

Now that we live in a house with a chalk-able front walk and picnic-able grass there is probably going to be a lot of, "haven't I see these pictures before?" around these parts all spring and summer. Hopefully we'll start adding some backyard kiddie pool and gardening pictures to the mix soon. My garlic in the crisper sprouted so I'm hoping to throw those cloves in the ground today and add blueberry bushes and some other things out back in the coming month...

Baby girl's hair is finally starting to grow a bit. I love her big bald head; at the same time it's exciting to see the beginnings of soft curls start to appear at the nape of her neck. Her strawberry blonde coloring seems to be sticking around as well -- nearly red in certain lights, mousy like mama's in others. She's so beautiful to my eyes and so much like her brother in appearance, yet very much her own fierce self in disposition. I think the dirt on her skirt, the scuffs on her shoes, that ornery tongue, and the light in her eyes tell the story...

Ot is such a b-o-y-boy I suddenly realize. I am so used to referring to him as my toddler, but really I suppose that time has passed. He whips around on his scooter while shooting pretend light sabers "hotter than pizza blood!" and has long, bruised, colt-like boy legs that he unselfconsciously shows off while running around the house in his undies. Dude is a super-hero-battles-obsessed semi-nudest (this thrill for battles and about bad guys is something he picked up at school; something he doesn't exactly understand and that we never encouraged and that kind of horrifies me; so funny how boys are just... boys) and there is no toddling.

In fact, Loretta is the one beginning to toddle.

And time marches on. How bittersweet but sweet nonetheless.

ps. Loretta's apple skirt was a sweet gift from my cherished friend, Alana, and comes from Ashley's Ark.

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