Weekend.

Friday at the park. We're working on solo swinging.  If either gets a push, the trip is shot, and they only leave the swing in tears.

This park was overhauled a few years back, and is on the other side of town.  To be blunt, the black side of town.  Both Alexe and I try to take the kids there whenever we have a chance; not only do we like the new equipment and the layout, there aren't many opportunities for integrated play.  One of our prouder moments as parents, pulling up to the park one day when it was packed, with our kids about to become the only white children present, Annaliese squealed with delight and said, "Look at all the friends to play with!"


Maybe their generation will get it right.

Family walk, headed to friends' house for a bonfire.

I'm having a love affair with my handsome, chatty little boy.  Yes, he's sitting on the toilet, but during this episode he talked non-stop about the rules of a new game Madeline had taught him.  (Madeline is his french tutor, and it turned out every word he told me here was made up.) 

Her feet used to be so small.

Handsome, right?

Unless you cross him.  Both these cherubs have been blessed with healthy tempers, courtesy of one grandparent or another.

The girls finished planting the garden ahead of the boys fixing the boat.  They retired to watch some shows in bed while we finished up.  The garden is now fully planted, and the boat is running like a top, starting on one pull. 

Another family walk.

Practicing for the paparazzi.  

I had a choice here, the pre-throw picture, or the post-throw picture.  The stick she just tossed is out of frame.