for the love of posting photos

My sweet boy (Eamon, not Greg) loves the lawn mower (just like his mama). Here's Greg giving him a lift on our version of a riding lawn mower. I've been carrying him on my back in the sling when mowing. Quite a work out, but it's fun. He literally shrieks with joy and laughter as I push along.

And here's little miss thing in her fancy Asian inspired shirt we received in a bag of teenage girl hand-me-downs (long story, but I got a decent pair of jeans out of it). She demanded I put her hair in a bun, which I did. With about 47 bobby pins. However, without a can of old-skool Aqua Net, her hair fell down in about a half hour. Good thing we took a picture while it lasted. That shirt has to be worn with a swishy, twirly black velvet skirt. Jeans won't do. Has to be the skirt. Every time. And only when she's in the mood for it.

Ah, sweet girl. She's sick tonight with a yucky tummy and vomiting. I'm hoping it was just all the refined sugar and hig carbs lunch we had at the blessingway today and not a stomach bug. Funny, because I'm so used to "midwife-y" potlucks full of greens and whole grains that going to a more traditional affair was a lot like a summer bbq as a kid. All white flour, lots of sugar. I of course, made sure to nicely point out the cause and effect to Sarah after she was feeling a little better. So she can make that note to self: jello on top of cool whip and pretzels is evil.