Happy Birthday Enzo!

Enzo has a favorite story that he likes me to tell him.  He asks me to tell it to him multiple times in a row, and interrupts me to tell me if I'm not telling it the right way. (Or to ask me for parts of the story that came from Daddy's version.)  It is the story of my best Christmas ever.  This is how I tell it to him:

"Once upon a time there was a mommy.  A little bit before Christmas she went to the hospital and her first little baby boy was born. The doctors took him away before she could even got to see him.  A few hours later a doctor came in and told the Mommy and Daddy, "Your baby is very sick and we don't know what is wrong with him.  We are going to fly him in a helicopter up to the special hospital for babies."  The first time the Mommy got to see her baby, he was all hooked up to tubes and wires.  She didn't even get to touch him.

Then he got to fly away in a helicopter to the special hospital for babies.  After they took the baby away, the Daddy climbed into Mommy's bed and they cried together.  They said a prayer that their baby would be okay and they decided his name would be Vincenzo Lamar LeFevre. Then Daddy and Grandpa got in the car and followed the helicopter up to the special hospital for babies, and Mommy stayed at her hospital and went to sleep.

When Daddy and Grandpa got to the hospital, they gave him a blessing so that Heavenly Father would help him get better. And then they waited for the doctors to figure out what was wrong.

Sometime in the middle of the night the doctor came and said that Enzo's heart was broken and that they were going to do surgery on it right away.  They gave Enzo some medicine so that he wouldn't feel any pain and so that he would go to sleep.  Then they cut his chest open, took his heart out and fixed it all up, and then put his heart back inside and covered it all up with a big bandaid.

When Mommy woke up in the morning, Enzo was still having surgery on his heart.  Mommy didn't even know that was going to happen!  Daddy and Grandpa waited for Enzo's surgery to get done and then they went to see him.  You (I usually switch to first person at this poing, pointing at each part of his body) had a big white bandaid covering your whole chest, and you had tubes and wires everywhere - in your head, in your neck, in your mouth so you could breath, in your arms, in your legs, in your belly, even in your belly button - all so that they could keep you alive and help you get healthy.

After Daddy and Grandpa got to see you, they drove back home and got Mommy from her hospital so that she could come and see you.  Because you had all of the tubes and wires, Mommy didn't get to hold you, all she could do was hold your hand and touch your head and kiss you.

"Look Enzo, you're holding my little finger then just the same as you like to hold it now!"

For nine whole days, that's all Mommy could do.  I just stood by your bed and touched you, and kissed you, and held your hand.  And then on Christmas morning, when we came to see you, you had most of your tubes and wires out and they said that Mommy would get to hold you!  So we got to give you a bath

 and put clothes on you

 and then Mommy go to hold you for the very first time!

 Just like this (And then I pick him up and hold him in my lap like a baby).  And that was my very favorite Christmas ever, when I got to hold my baby Enzo for the first time!"

And today, three years later, I get to remember that favorite Christmas, and celebrate that I still have my baby.  Except he's not such a baby anymore!  Here's a video of him today in a birthday interview so you can see just what a big boy he really is:

There are some things about this video that I think are pretty funny, although no one else would ever know.  First of all, licorice and orange juice are only happen to be his favorites because they are what he had just moments before we made the video.  His usual answer to his favorite drink would probably be root beer, although I'd say he loves water the most, unless he's just waking up or getting tired, in which case it is definitely warm milk.  As to the favorite treat, I don't know if he has a true favorite - just anything candy.  Usually his answer to his favorite person is Daddy, and he always takes his "special blankie" to bed with him.  He  just happened to get a large stuffed Mickey Mouse for his birthday today and was looking forward to taking him to bed with him tonight.  But truth be told, he has said before that "Mick is my favorite guy."  

He has a new thing with making nicknames for people.  His sister is Weeny (Leeny), Ada, Adul, and Weena (Lina), depending on his mood.  And Kammie is Aunt Kam, Maggie is Mags, and Mickey Mouse has become Mick.  James and I have long been "Daddy-o" and "Mommy-cita" but have recently become Daddy-cita, Mommy-o, and sometimes even "Daddy-Mommy" or other silly things.

I love how silly he can be - like going to "Apple juice pwace" in the video. He often makes up words and things like that on purpose just to be silly.  I like how he can't sit still - and has to climb up and down off the couch a dozen times throughout the interview.  It's a small little glimpse of what he is like all the time.  

Besides the things we see in the video, there are a few other things I love about 3 year old Enzo.  He loves music and loves to dance.  James always teases me and calls me "Juke Box" because one little word will remind me of a song and make me start to sing.  Well, we call Enzo "Juke Box Junior."  He is constantly singing, sometimes stringing multiple songs together. Today he told me, "Mommy, I love you.  You're the "most fa-mous Mommy of all!" (the last part sung to the tune of Rudolph the Red Nosed Reindeer.) After just a couple times hearing a song, he will be able to sing along to most of the words (or what he thinks the words are!)  He and I love to have dance parties where we turn up the music and dance around the house.  I love dancing with him and watching him dance.  

Another thing I love about Enzo is how cute he is with Adalina.  If she's still sleeping when he wakes up, he just can't stand not waking her up.  And almost daily when I try to put her down for a nap, a few minutes later I will find that he has climbed into the crib with her.  He's so concerned about her all of the time.  If she's crying or fussing, he will say things like, "It's okay, Weeny, I'm right here, I'm right here," He will often give her his special blankie when she's sad and has to make sure that she has her "Lady".

If I need to run into the other room to do something, and I ask him to watch his sister or keep her happy, he will get down on the floor and play with her and imitate us in the way we talk to her until I come back in the room.  He LOVES to make her laugh and will do the same meaningless, silly thing over and over again if she laughs at it one time.  He has had his fair share of being a rough 2 year old boy with her, but she still loves him and I'm sure, if Adalina could talk, she would say that Enzo is her favorite person.

Lately, Enzo has become a little parrot.  We have to be careful what we say around him, because he frequently repeats back everything we just said.  Other times, we find him saying things that we didn't know we said.  His latest is "Oh, poo-poo!" which we didn't know came from one of us until, after we had corrected Enzo a dozen times for his potty talk, we realized that it was something one of us had a habit of saying. (I won't say which one of us it was.)

While this year we have definitely had a healthy dosing of the terrible two's, there have been many, many times recently where I have had hope that he will turn out to be a dang good kid.  He's become a pretty polite kid, saying, "Mommy, will you please...." most of the time.  And saying, "Thank you Mommy" without being asked to.  He spontaneously says, "I wuv you Mommy, " or, even cuter, says in a whisper, "Guess what, Mommy?" and when I answer, "What?" he replies in a loud voice, "I WUV YOU DIIIISSS MUCH!" with his arms spread as wide as he can go.  When James comes home he asks, "What'd you do today, Daddy?" or "How was your day?" and "I missed you soooo much!" And I loved that he said on the video that he's good at "Obeying like Nephi," because he isn't always, but he's working on it, and will sometimes go around singing, "Quickly I obey." If we remember to praise him for obeying, he loves to do it and can be such a great helper.

Enzo is such a cute, happy, and excited kid.  He gets super excited over the little things, and is most hyper in the hours after Daddy comes home from work because, as he tells Daddy, "I'm so (ex)cited you came home!"  He says such cute things that I wish I had a tape recorder around me constantly so that I can remember everything he says.  ( Like making flip-flops in the snow.  And once he said he needed to take a drink in the car cause, "I got hold-cuppers!) And having him in my life sometimes I think to myself, "I wish everyone had it this good!"

Happy Birthday Enzo, I love you!

Tender Wounds

As I was blaring my music and cleaning the house while Adalina slept and James and Enzo played downstairs for two hours, a song came on the radio (okay, I better keep up with the times, it wasn't really the radio, I should say, "a song came on my iTunes mix)  that I hadn't heard in years.  It was a song that I used to listen to over a decade ago as I was getting over a broken heart.  While it seems trivial now, I really was broken hearted. The guy I really thought I would marry had "dumped me." In all honestly, it was the only time in my life I have ever been dumped. He had gone on his mission, we wrote every week (yes, I was one of those) and then suddenly, the letters stopped coming.  A few weeks later I got "Dear Jane-ed" if you would call it that.  Although, he cryptically just said he wanted to be friends. But seriously, what else were we when he was on his mission.  It wasn't like when I wrote him, I told him nothing but how much I loved him and missed him.  I can honestly say I wasn't completely one of those. Anyway, I naively thought that there still might be hope and dragged on my suffering until long after he got home.  And while I did, I would further amplify my suffering by listening to sappy country love songs that reminded me of him.  One of those songs came on my iTunes mix the other day while I was cleaning.  While I listened to the song, my heart filled with an ache, a shadow of the suffering I had gone through at that time.  It wasn't as strong as it was all those years ago, and of course, I don't in anyway feel the way I did back then, but the song made me feel the ache that I had felt back then.  I'm not sure I can describe it quite right.  James, if you are reading this, no, I didn't miss my old boyfriend.  No, I don't wish I had married him. I just had a memory of my old heartache.  It was strange to me after so many years, that my heart could still ache, not for an old love, but for myself.  Today (okay, two days ago) I hurt for my old self like I think I would hurt for my child if they were suffering. Like I'm sure our Father in Heaven hurts for us when we hurt.

A few days ago my cousin Shelly posted something on Facebook that I loved.  She told about talking to one of her sons after he had gotten hurt.  I know I will mess it up, so I better quote it exactly.  I hope you don't mind, Shell.

"Today I kissed the tender wound of one of the boys...and as I did I murmured words to comfort. The pain will lessen and disappear. What once felt so unbearable will no longer be there. A scar may remain, but that is a sign of what has healed. As he walked away I thought of my own pain...and how tender it has been at times. How sometimes I've let things fester...and sometimes I've picked at them. Now only a few scars remain...I'm so glad for that moment."

How often we have tender wounds in life. Often, they are like the physical wounds of a rambunctious boy, easily healed and easily forgotten.  Other times, they are more poignant, like my young broken heart - never forgotten, longer to heal, but someday completely gone with nothing but a faint scar. And even more rarely, they are so strong we think we cannot bear them.

Having a son with a congenital heart defect (CHD), I have the privilege of calling myself a "Heart Mom." But an even greater privilege is being part of a group on Facebook for Heart Moms all around the area where I live.  I'm not a very active participant, especially since Enzo's heart defect is relatively minor and his subsequent heart health is so good compared to others in this group.  But in my observations and "Facebook stalking," I've come to realize what a wonderful group of women I have the blessing of knowing.  This past week, Mia, the 4 year old daughter of one of these heart moms, Mimi McDonald, passed away.  She was born needing a heart transplant, which she received at 4 months old.  Last week, she and her family flew to Florida after being granted a wish from the Make A Wish Foundation.  Before she could even realize her dream of meeting Minnie Mouse, Mia got sick and was taken to the hospital, where it was found that she was in rejection of her donor heart.  They took her in to the cath lab to do a biopsy of her heart, and during the procedure her heart stopped.  While they were able to resuscitate her and her heart recovered, her brain suffered injuries she couldn't recover from.  Her family had to take her off of life support and send their sweet baby back to our Heavenly Father.

I can only imagine the tender wounds this poor family is experiencing.  In reality, I have often imagined it.  None of us know how long we have on earth, but I sometimes feel that as a Heart Mom, I'm a tiny bit more likely to end up going through this same experience.  I've felt on more than one occasion that my son, as healthy as he seems now, may not be on earth as long as I would want.  And now, having another child, I wonder if maybe I've felt that way because I may loose her, or another child.  It could be that I've felt that way about Enzo to prepare me for some future heartache of my own.  Or maybe not. But I've imagined it often. My imaginings I know, are only the tiniest fragment of the pain and heartache of the reality Mia's family is experiencing. And that I know that these are the wounds that will not ever fully heal in this life.  My heart aches for the pain this family is going through.  But I know, that like my cousin said to her son, someday all wounds will heal.

I feel a little calloused in saying it, in light of such anguish that I have not personally felt.  But I know it to be true.  Scars will remain, but all wounds will heal with time.  My silly broken heart from college took years to heal, and sometimes I still feel a shadow of that ache.  And so I know that a parent's worst nightmare, loosing a child, is one of those wounds that never disappear.  But it will heal, a little at a time, and it will fade, and it will become bearable.

Last Saturday and Sunday, while Mia was on life support and her family was preparing to let her go, I sat at home with my family and watched General Conference, where the leaders of our church give us advice and counsel.  I know that the speakers at conference are asked to speak but not given topics.  The are to seek guidance and inspiration to know what to speak on.  I've listened to many, many conference talks in my life, but never before have I heard one where I knew they must have been inspired of God to say what they were saying.  Saturday morning, while I checked Facebook on my phone every half hour for updates on Mia (and where I also read the comments and prayers of other Heart Moms, where I was inspired and uplifted by women I've never met, where I got to see such love and support that I can only hope to receive if I ever have to suffer the unthinkable) I heard a talk that was just for this family.  I felt as if this man was speaking directly to the McDonald family.  Knowing what they were going through, God must have had them in mind when he inspired this man to speak.  I'm sure there were countless others around the world needing to hear those words as well, but the loving Father in Heaven that I believe in was also thinking specifically of this family.

This man, Elder Shayne M. Bowen, shared his own experience with loosing a child.  He described what most of us hope to only imagine. He helped me feel a little bit of what this family and others have to go through. And he reaffirmed what I already know, and what I hope I will remember if I ever have to go through it myself.  I will just quote a few highlights.

• "I was reminded of the teachings of the Prophet Joseph Smith, who taught this comforting doctrine: “The Lord takes many away, even in infancy, that they may escape the envy of man, and the sorrows and evils of this present world; they were too pure, too lovely, to live on earth; therefore, if rightly considered, instead of mourning we have reason to rejoice as they are delivered from evil, and we shall soon have them again.”

• "I testify that because of Him, even our Savior, Jesus Christ, those feelings of sorrow, loneliness, and despair will one day be swallowed up in a fulness of joy. I testify that we can depend on Him and when He said: “I will not leave you comfortless: I will come to you.""

• "I testify that, as stated in Preach My Gospel, “as we rely on the Atonement of Jesus Christ, He can help us endure our trials, sicknesses, and pain. We can be filled with joy, peace, and consolation. All that is unfair about life can be made right through the Atonement of Jesus Christ.”"

I have a testimony that even the unthinkable wounds will heal.  Even when we wonder, "why me" and suffer beyond imagination, our Savior Jesus Christ will comfort us, and some day, even the most tender of wounds will heal.

Many moms in my heart group have been angered by theirs, and others', experiences with their child having a CHD. When they saw the suffering of Mia's family, it made some of them angry again.  But as another heart mom said (and I only paraphrase) "God's plan is perfect.  We are only angry because we can't see the end."

James and I both feel so grateful for what we have gone through with Enzo.  Even from the beginning, all we have felt is blessed for the whole experience.  While it was difficult and heart breaking and while some little scars still remain for us, we are so grateful for the trials we have been given.  I hope we can always say that.  I hope I can always say how grateful I am for my Tender Wounds and my Savior who heals them.

"I Ate Peas For Dinner"

While the fact that Enzo ate peas for dinner is an almost daily truth around our house, that is not what this post is going to be about.  Last night I was contemplating blogging and journal writing and I remembered something from my childhood.  I was frequently taught in church as a child and youth about the importance of keeping a journal.  I've never been great at it, and if you don't count blogging, the last journal entry I actually wrote was written about 8 years ago, before James and I even got engaged, let alone "married with children." But in one of my several childhood attempts at keeping a journal, I decided I would write every day.  As I thought last night about life's events that I would want to remember or have a record of, I remembered this journal from my youth, and the image of one of the pages came to my mind.  Scrawled across the entire page of this journal entry, with nothing else but the date at the top, were the words, "I ate peas for dinner."  In all actuality, I clearly remember that several, if not most, of the pages of this journal were identical, with  nothing but the words, "I ate peas for dinner."

Remembering this, I think I can safely assume responsibility for Enzo's love of peas, because I must have eaten peas A LOT.  More importantly, I think it's also safe to say that I completely missed the point of keeping a journal.  While I would love to find that journal and would get a kick out of seeing it again, it really reveals nothing in the ways of history or record keeping.  It doesn't tell anything about my life, except for my half-hearted attempts at following counsel I was taught in church.

I'm a little embarrassed to admit this, but I frequently think in the form of Facebook posts and blog posts.  Surprising, I'm sure, since my blog updates are so infrequent.  And as much as I think of little things to write on Facebook, for various reasons I post comparatively few.  And they almost always consist of one of two things.  Either I'm overwhelmed and frustrated with something as a parent and I need an outlet to vent or get advice and reassurance, or I'm sharing something cute that my kids said or did. Yesterday, a few of these little incidents happened, but as usual, I didn't post most of them.  But at the end of the night, I realized that they were important tidbits, that I myself at least, might want to remember.

Thinking about these things, I thought about journal keeping, and I thought something along the lines of, "Well, I may not keep a journal, but at least I have Facebook to remember all of these little moments."  But then I thought of the moments I don't post, and I thought of my childhood journal. I realized that the little tidbits I share are almost like writing, "I ate peas for dinner."  Entertaining, yes. Complete record keeping of my life for my future remembrance and posterity, absolutely not.  I'm Totally missing the main parts of my life. I will definitely enjoy reading about the fact that when Enzo was 2, he took off his all of his clothes to dance naked in the living room.  I'll remember that because I wrote it down.  Even now, as I finish the post that I started yesterday morning, about things that happened the day before that, I've totally forgotten the several other things that happened that day that I wanted so bad to remember.  The thoughts that inspired me to wake up early and write in the first place.  They're gone.  Because I didn't write them down.

My memory sucks.  I've told James that if I ever start ranting like an old person, telling him about things that happened to me when I was a child, then he will know that I definitely have Alzheimers - because I just don't remember those things now.  Things happen, life moves on, and I completely forget.  It makes me sad sometimes.  Like today.  Just like the fact that I ate peas for dinner is the only thing I can remember from those days in my childhood, the fact that James sat down and talked with Enzo and told him to tell me, "Thank you for being my Mommy, I love you so much" is the only thing I can now remember from TWO days ago.

If I'm lucky, some of those things will come back to me randomly.  Like now, as I write, I remembered the other things I wanted to remember.  And so I'm going to write them down so I don't forget.  How I was going to admit what a bad housekeeper I am, but how I'm not too bad of a house cleaner.  And how I love having a few hours to myself to really clean my house.  I'm so thankful for the people who watch my kids so I can have those moments to myself.  Sometimes those people are friends or family (and if it's been you and you are reading this, please know how incredibly much it means to me and how grateful I am) and sometimes, like the other day, it's just James coming home and keeping the kids downstairs and playing for a couple of hours so I can blast the music and clean the house All. By. Myself.  I love it.  It's refreshing and energizing and it feels so great to have it all clean.  Without being interrupted a million times, or getting frustrated at the two year old who literally cannot play by himself for even 3 minutes. (I know, I've tried.  I set the timer, bribe him with a treat if he can stay and play alone for only THREE minutes.  He can't.  He always comes in before even a minute is up to get me to play with him, or look at something, or "help" by sweeping his broom right through the pile I just made.) Or frustrated at the 6 month old who everyone comments on what a good, mellow baby she is, but in reality, can only last a minute or two herself without fussing or whining or screaming because I'm not holding or playing with her.  (The real reason everyone things she's so mellow is because one, when I'm visiting with people, someone is always holding her and playing with her, and then she definitely is an angel.  And two, compared to Enzo, she is an incredibly good, mellow baby.) Because that is what my life is like, all the time, my already lacking housekeeping skills really just suck these days.  And because I love a clean house so much and rarely have it, I really love time to myself to get a chunk of it completely clean.

While my cleaning and parenting adventures may not really matter to anyone who reads this today, they matter to me to remember them.  In 30 years, when my kids are grown and gone, I know I will look back and cherish memories like these.  And someday, maybe my daughter will have children of her own. And maybe she will be overwhelmed, nose barely above water, feeling like she just wasn't cut out for the job of mom, wife, and house keeper - and she can look back and know that her mom was just like that.  Maybe her, or some other future posterity, will gain some kind of peace or assurance from knowing she's not alone.  And hopefully, she can also say that even though her mom felt like she did a pretty crappy job most of the time, she still turned out okay.

I'm sure that the other things I've remembered while I write this probably won't matter to you either.  But I'm going to write them anyway.  I'm going to do my best to get up early, or skip the nap, or do whatever else it takes to take the time to write more frequently.  So I don't forget what happened on a daily basis.  So when I'm old and my already sucky memory is fading, I can remember more than a Facebook post a day.  And so my children and posterity can know more about me than the fact that "I ate peas for dinner."

New blog

So I started a new blog, if anyone wants to check it out.

http://allmyimperfection.blogspot.com/

Catching Up

A couple of nights ago I got on to catch up some of my blog (I am about 5-6 months behind, I haven't even blogged about my baby girl, who is now almost FOUR months old!) - and I discovered that I have reached my limit on my photo storage and I wasn't able to upload any more pictures unless I wanted to pay for it.  Who knew? Of course, being the frugal person that I am (James has rubbed off on me.  I do have to say, I've rubbed off on him too, and we now have a happy medium - frugal instead of cheap.) I am not really too excited to pay monthly for some extra storage.  So I found the picture storage - Picasso web album, deleted all of the pictures that weren't being used on my blog, and I have some more room.  How much more, I'm not sure.  So my goal is to catch up on this blog up until Adalina was born and then print it in a blog book.  Then I plan on starting a new blog, since the address for this one doesn't include Adalina, and catch up on there from Adalina's birth until now.  But, since I have some cute recent pictures and videos and I know that Grandmas and Grandpas are missing out on some fun stuff, I'm going to post some (okay, probably a lot) of random favorites so that no one who really cares has to wait for as long as it will take me to get caught up.  And since both of my kids were asleep by 7:30 and James is at scout camp, there's no better time than right now.  So here goes:

If you can ignore my cooing and Enzo jabbering in the background, you can hear the adorable talking that Adalina is starting to do:

This is how Enzo fell asleep last night.  He has turned a new leaf and thankfully almost grown out of the terrible at going to bed phase. We get ready for bed, I read two stories, leave his room and don't hear from him again till morning.  I LOVE it!

Enzo loves to paint, which I usually have him do in the bathtub.  One of his recent favorite books is this one:

where the boy paints all over the house, and then himself.  Enzo, whether intentionally or not, recreated the book: He first painted "pictures on the floor, and the ceiling and the walls and the curtain and the floor"

As a line in the book says, "I ain't complete till I paint my....FEET!

At the end of the book, after he paints all of the rest of his body, it goes, "I'm such a nut, gonna paint my...." and mom walks in and says, "WHAT?!?!?!"  Well, Enzo finished what the boy in the story wasn't able to and painted his....

He now asks me to read this story at least twice a day.

And yes, he's naked while he paints.  That's because he's off-and-on potty training.  If he is naked, he will use the potty all day long.  He's only had one tiny accident while he was naked, and he stopped himself and ran to the toilet and finished the job.  But if he's wearing undies, it's hit and miss, with many accidents, especially if he's playing or doing something fun.  And if he wears diapers, he makes sure he uses them as they were intended to be used.  He's been able and willing to go pee-pee in the potty for a long time but we could never get him to go #2.  That is until one day I caught him in the act and he was willing to try - and went!!  I was so excited I screamed - and then he made me take a picture of it. (He is a boy, after all)  All day long, he asked to see his "poop picture" and then when he saw it, he asked me to, "Mommy, scweam!" We even had to send the picture to Grandma and Grandpa - and since they've already seen it, there's no need to post it on here.  Now going poop in the potty is a big, exciting event that he loves to do.  If he's naked, of course.

Here he is, riding the train again, this time with Mommy, as his reward for going poop in the potty.  And he didn't even have to use his own money! (Unfortunately, the sound and the picture are a little off, but he tells you that he "went poop in the toywet (toilet)").

The talking that Adalina showed us in that first video is new this week (well, the quantity of it at least) as she babbles all day long like that.  She has also finally started playing with some of her toys.  She went from just laying there doing nothing one day, to playing and talking for long periods of time the next day:

It makes me so excited, I love it that she can play (pretty much so that I don't feel so guilty leaving her alone when I have to get something done, play with Enzo, or put out another "fire" of his.) And plus, she's just so darn cute when she does it.

We have been spending a lot of our Saturdays lately in the car as James has had to work driving to remote Utah locations (Price, Brigham City, and other far away places) to install some medical alarm systems or do service calls.  Instead of sitting at home missing him, we make a family road trip out of it.  Which leaves me a lot of time in the car entertaining two little ones.  Here are some of the pictures from those fun times:

Drooling on Mommy's arm, a new favorite past time.

Some of the other fun we've been having lately:

Going to the annual Herriman "Touch a Truck"with our friends Jared and Chrissy, and more importantly, their kids Will and Ellie:

Playing in the rain and giving Sully a bath (as he sang, "Down came the rain and washed the spider out.")

Going to the Days of 47 Parade Float Preview:

 Visiting Aunt E and Uncle Joe and riding on the "Go Go Cart":

And here's Adalina E with her namesake, my Great Aunt E:

 Throwing paint balloons:

Eating peas from the garden:

Making "ball-cane-oes":

 And then tearing it apart and washing it down the sink when we were done:

Playing with Daddy:

We have some pictures just like these with Enzo when he was a baby too.

And visiting Thanksgiving Point (with cousin Calan):

 Calan jumped right in:

 And Enzo stood on the sidelines, happy to just watch:

Again, Calan jumped right in:

 And Enzo finally got in, as long as he could hold Mommy's hand:

But by the end, he was right in there with Calan (although slightly less enthusiastically):

And another picture or two (or twenty), just for fun:

 Adalina's first 4th of July (yes, I made that bow, look at me be crafty):