Home soon.

Yup. Daddy's away again. We miss you; things just aren't the same when you are gone.


Sonja says, "I miss you Dada. I love you!" 


Haven says, "DADAAAAAA!" And then softly, with downcast eyes, "Dada." 


Don't worry, we're all good here. But come home soon. 

Coat-free.

We went to the park in our sweaters today - no coats - for the first time since September.

Peter took the girls to his parents' house yesterday and it was a gorgeous day, so I know they were running around in the sunshine without coats on. Sweet freedom. But today was the first day this year on a dog walk coat-free. It's always a momentous occasion.

Now we just need more of this weather and soon we'll ditch the boots (please) and go in regular shoes. ...or sandals. The thought makes me want to do a happy dance.

Can I just point out how incredibly adorable the girls' sweaters are? I got Sonja's at a consignment store and Haven's was handmade by a friend's Mom. Seriously. We received it today and Haven put it on and refused to take it off. 

I don't blame her; check out the butterfly buttons.

Last ballet class.

This was Sonja's last ballet class of the session. All the parents and siblings were invited in to watch and Haven was stoked.


The class was, of course, adorable. Sonja insisted on wearing her strawberry hat throughout. It was so sweet to watch her following all the teacher's instructions and going through her little steps.

Haven was dying to get in there and dance. She stood off to the side with me, swaying and twirling to the music and calling "Sister!" over and over.

...and finally flashed her belly in a last-ditch effort to catch Sonja's attention.

At the end of the class, all the dancers were essentially running around in a big circle and I relented and let Haven join in. I didn't take any photos because I was laughing too hard. 


It was like roller derby; they were all jostling for position and Haven was knocked to the ground twice by one particular girl. It was totally on purpose; a full-on body check. The mother of that girl was mortified, but when I eventually stopped laughing I said, "Are you kidding? Haven's fine and that was the funniest thing I've seen all week!"

Full-contact ballet; whodathunkit?

Photo essay: It's all fun and games until my hands are dirty.

Revelations.

My friend Christina and I met up with our girls at a play group Tuesday. Sonja and Stella decided to sit together for snack, which was really nice. As usual, I whipped out the camera and snapped a few shots while they waited for the food to arrive.

I honestly thought that all the photos would look something like this first one:

And then as I looked through the rest, I saw a mini-drama unfold.

Not sure what Sonja is divulging, but it looks like it's big. Stella seems to be not so much commiserating as stunned by these revelations.

First step: just get it out.

Second step: resign yourself to the fact that everyone now knows your secret. No more hiding.

Third step: a little bit of shame, but a true friend will be there for you. Isn't it a relief to get that off your chest?

Fourth step: "Anyway..."

Thank goodness for good friends.

Patience is a type of currency.

I'm still not entirely sure what the story was here... Haven was either sick, or taking a nap. Either way, she sure had a lot of crap in her bed. 


And that plastic lemon seemed important somehow.

Sonja is super skilled at telling long and rambling stream-of-consciousness accounts of the games she plays with Haven. I sometimes think they're like those weird 3D posters from back in the 90's, where you had to relax your eyes and look "through" the picture. 


How you'd do that with your ears, I don't know.

What strikes me is how willing Haven is to be Sonja's subject in these little scenarios. She'll lie down while Doctor Sonja takes care of her "broken arm" or "broken leg" or both. She'll let Sonja cover her up in six different blankets and be surrounded by an army of stuffies and all the food from their toy kitchen. I've walked in and found Haven covered in every necklace-type thing Sonja could find in her toy box. She's pretty patient.


And then the next minute she's pushing Sonja in the face or doing something even more painful. Maybe she figures her patience is a type of currency; "You can stick me in a plastic bin full of toys or pretend I need a cast on my arm, but then I get to bite you." 

Well, whatever you do, don't drop the plastic lemon.