joy

I'm not sure what I'm going to do when the weather changes from summer to fall to (gasp!) winter and Henry can't dart out the backdoor on his own to explore our yard like he has all summer.  Our little sliver of the great outdoors has been his playground for countless hours the past several months.  

It seems impossible that in only a few short months we will be cheering for our Midwest holiday temperatures to get above 40 degrees...

not even half of what our highs are supposed to be all of this week in the middle of August. 

He has taken full advantage of learning how to twist the lock open past the click and has walked out on his own so many times that he's finally learned to (almost always) shut the door after him...usually dragging Franklin up from a mid-day snooze on the rug to go adventuring with him.  

At the end of the day when Andrew and I are picking up the day's worth of toys, one of us has to make it a habit to check outside too.  

For trucks and cars taken out to drive in the dirt.  For forgotten shoes.  For discarded bikes.  And the cup I've looked all day for.  

And a toy lawnmower stopped mid-push in the corner.  

He's lately been shoveling rock and dumping it in the mulch in the very corner of the yard by the gate which Andrew loves.  (Or not.)  

But better than digging in the ash on the back of our fireplace and covering himself in it and then coming inside.

Wild at heart, full of orneriness and life and vigor and joy.

As much as the orneriness drives me crazy day in and day out, it is one of the best things about our little Ham.  I couldn't imagine him any other way.