(swim lessons started yesterday!)
I used to hate you and I'm not sure why, but now I love you.
Each morning, at 6am, I wake up to hear Francine talking to her plush Aurora doll, in her crib. I walk in and say, "Good morning Frankie girl!" and of course she answers me with, "Da-Da!!!!".
And then we walk downstairs, fling open the back door slider and go outside. By 6:30am, we are in the backyard, watching the fire roar and the hose is soaking the pack patio and all my plants.
Summer is beautifully slow and lazy and good.
And we swim and eat chicken tacos and a lot of salsa.
And I text Sean at 3pm and beg him to come home early and then he does.
We lay outside on lounge chairs and dream about putting in a jacuzzi, but just someday.
And we run across the street to the neighbors, at the last minute, and swim in their pool and make cookies.
Friends come over for dinner and promise to leave at 7pm, to put the kids to bed. But leave at 8pm instead, because we want to talk some more and munch and sip.
Kensington takes swim lessons and pretends she is a mermaid, with her friend Ruby.
And she wears goggles and a fresh new bathing suit from Grandma.
We eat fruit and slather on sunscreen and go to bed exhausted from baking in the sun.
And we wake early and go to bed late and we hear the fireworks from the neighborhood over and don't even mind.
We wear tank tops and skirts and hair in buns. And tangles from the pool. Oh, the tangles.
We love summer and the junebugs and the late-setting sun and the running water and chalk paintings and the sound of a fan, twirling in a quiet room.
TV show marathons and a movie started a little too late.
Sean mowing the lawn and getting a tan at the same time. Feeling like watering the plants is the funnest chore in the world.