Everyone has their vices. (The above is the title of a Rufus Wainwright song that I am obsessed with . . . kinda relates, plus it's a great song, so check it out.) I am apparently unable to end my day without making a trip to Jersey Junction, as I have just returned, vanilla malt in hand, from my "trip to Rite Aid." Must stop eating ice cream every single day. Also, must stop drinking wine with neighbors until midnight. It is fun, but it gets my week off to the wrong start, one where my caffeine/alcohol/water balance is all out of whack and I try, though it is futile, to nap when the girls are taking their naps. (Reminder to self: this never works. Someone always wakes up early (Jemma) or never goes to sleep (Annie), and you are always more frustrated because you tried to sleep . . .)
I got my first glimpse today of the naughtiness that will ensue when Jemma turns on me during her toddler years. We were playing with blocks upstairs, and she kept leaving our little area and racing towards the stairs. I'd let her get just so far, and then I'd crawl over to her, pick her up, and set her down, facing the other direction. She'd giggle and immediately turn around to head towards the stairs again! Then Annie got in the mix, tickling Jemma's tummy, kissing her cheeks, and generally making both of them hysterical. It was adorable.
Other than a little down-time upstairs, we basically lived outside today. We hung out in the front yard this morning before heading to the park to play with a few friends and have a picnic. After naps, we took a walk, drew with sidewalk chalk, and played with neighbors on Caden's slide until dinnertime. Even after dinner, Jason and I played catch with a mini-football and kicked the soccer ball around with Annie after Jemma was in bed. The marching band was practicing on the field, people were out walking dogs, and it was a beautiful night to be outside.
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