It was a good morning, and we sure needed that.

One of these days, I'm going to figure out the right gear to throw in my parenting tackle box, and we'll get a few of these good mornings and good afternoons turned into an entire good day, and there will be more jumping for joy.  

Henry has successfully mastered riding his bike without training wheels AND without having to rely on me for a push to get him rolling so Franklin is now allowed back on our daily walks with us.  It was touch and go for a while because pushing a double jogger, while holding onto the dog's leash/pulling him back beside the stroller instead of letting him stop to pee on every tree we pass, and then stop, park the stroller, pull Frank with me, give Henry a push, repeat, repeat, repeat was even more of a side show than we already typically are.

(In response to the couple that saw us this morning and exclaimed, "you've got the whole crew today!", I responded with, "yes...we are basically a parade these days," because #yesivegotmyhandsfull and #yesimbusy and #wetakeuptheentirestreet and all of those other things that we hear anytime we go out in public on all the days.)

Back to the story...

 

So, on Tuesday, we walked before lunchtime and were headed back home when we stopped to talk to our neighbor.  And Henry exclaimed/yelled (because that's how he always talks), "I'm four!!" because he is as of Saturday, and four was a BIG DEAL and anyone who has come in contact with him since is now in the know of his age.

We're chatting, and Franklin keeps trying to weasel his way over to the curb 

so he can wallow in the puddles leftover 

from the monsoon Wichita experienced last week, 

and I keep pulling him back towards me and the stroller, and he keeps pulling away, 

and finally he wins and flops into the water 

and immediately sprawls out to cool down his big belly.  

And I sigh and say, 

"He's almost seven!  You would think he'd quit doing stuff like this, 

but I think he does it to spite me 

because he doesn't get as much attention as he used to."  

Not missing a beat, Henry pipes in...

"Mommy...?"

"...are you talking about Daddy?"

 

 

The transition last week from school to summer was a bit touch and go, and I sure know better than to say anything out loud about my kids because as soon as I do the opposite happens, but since then, summer's been pretty, pretty good with Ham.