Summer is my season. I love these long days, nights with the windows open, crickets singing, fans blowing. I love sticky feeling of sweaty boy skin and feet green from fresh cut grass. All of it. I love all of it. And at this moment in time, this day, this week -- life is just so, so sweet. I know: you could just gag, right? Well, maybe it is the vitamin D talking (or the Newcastle) but summer makes me feel so downright hopeful. Optimistic. Joyful.
Anyway, between the homeschooling, the garden, and the other outdoor stuff, it is shaping up to be quite a summer. Most days end with a bike ride. After dinner, when it has cooled off a bit, we head to a nearby park and ride the mountain bike trials. This is a relatively new thing for us and it has me feeling both thrilled, apprehensive, and old. You see, Oliver is a shining star on the mountain bike trails. He so deftly and athletically picks his way over the obstacles that he totally leaves the rest of us in the dust. It is amazing to behold. That's the part that has me thrilled. I'm apprehensive because none of us can keep up with the boy and the paths have many twists and turns so that he could easily become lost. Luckily he has had the charity to wait for us before making any turns thus far. And Old? Well, did I mention that I can't keep up? This is not an exaggeration. Granted, I'm the only one not riding a mountain bike (I have a hybrid), but I can't blame it all on the bike. I've become cautious. It won't be long now before Nik and the boys start suggesting that I stay home in the evenings.
How did it come to this?
On the homeschooling front, we made these cool sensory writing bag things today:
You just fill a gallon-sized ziplock bag with a mixture of tempra and finger paint and use it to trace letters and numbers with your fingers. The paint is solid enough that it holds the shape of whatever you draw. All was well and good until I heard Sami shrieking from the playroom as I was cooking dinner. When I went to investigate I initially had a heart attack as it looked like he was covered in blood. Then I discovered that he had only been writing too energetically and the ziplock had split open, covering him in red paint. I quickly then sealed Oliver's bag with plastic tape, knowing that he would do the opposite of scream if his "accidentally" split open.
We also had a bit of impromptu phys ed when the kids tried to break out of rest time. Behold: