The last time I posted specifically about her was her birth announcement (a month late, oops). And now she's off to college. Practically. We decided that 18 months was plenty long to go without a haircut and she was starting to look a little shaggy, so one tiny bob later and I'm baby-less.
She's VERY happy to show off the new 'do, especially to her dad when he says, "Victoria, show me your pretty hair!" Definitely all girl, through and through.
If the British-ness of my children's names doesn't tip you off, I don't think the USA is the only country in the world worth loving . . . but I'm sure glad it's the country I'm lucky enough to call home and I'm extremely grateful for those who have sacrificed to make it my very favorite place on earth. Happy 4th of July!
A few months ago we decided to buy John's parents' tent trailer, the one he spent his entire childhood camping in. We have big renovation plans for it but decided to take it out on our first little family campout over Memorial Day weekend. Everett spent the weekend running around like a wild man with his face caked in dirt/apple juice/toasted marshmallows (in other words, all the quintessential "little boy" staples) and when we asked if he wanted to go home he said NO! Every night we snuggled together in one bed under piles of blankets and laughed and munched on snacks and it was kind of perfect minus the times Everett sleep-smacked us in the face.
We took a walk at least once a day to hunt for moose. Everett had no clue what they were (he alternated between saying "neigh" and "moo" when we saw them) but he begged constantly to see more. Moose hunts with your baby are WAY BETTER than snipe hunts with the girls at girls' camp.
One afternoon we had a heavenly family nap with the windows open, then drove up to Silver Lake, coincidentally where John and I had our first date, to stroll around the boardwalk and grab an ice cream. Really that's all too great to even be allowed in one single sentence but I have to memorialize that perfect Saturday here.
And then Everett supervised John's attempts to get the heater working.
This is the face of a child who never gets juice boxes at home. I'm only a nice mom when we go on vacation apparently.
Our entire camp was surrounded by patches of wild strawberries. So if heaven was a campsite, it would clearly be this one.
He didn't care for the fire and covered his eyes for the first twenty minutes or so then squinted at it the rest of the time. Gotta protect those retinas. He did warm up to it a little once he discovered he could throw pine cones into it.
We cut the trip one night short because the temperature dipped a little too low for our taste (especially Everett's) and went home Sunday night instead of Monday, but we ended the long weekend with a barbecue and a second round of s'mores in my parents' backyard for good measure. So all in all, I'd relive the whole thing at least 20 more times if that were an option.