Pool day

This morning we did some school work while Auntie K went grocery shopping for herself. She has celiac disease and...so we let her be in charge of what she eats. She made shepherd's pie for dinner this evening (for all of us), for example (and it was delicious). 

After lunch we headed to the pool. It's a bit cooler than we're used to, but as the afternoon warmed up it felt better and better. We had a lot of fun playing catch and "piggy in the middle," which my kids all call "monkey in the middle," despite my best efforts to make them adopt my way of speaking. There are many names for the game. 

Here we are the first few minutes at the pool, getting used to the water:

Busy evenings, matching dresses, and a sister visit!

I wrote a draft last week about a particularly busy Tuesday, when Andrew had to be on campus so I had to do all the driving children hither and thither by myself. And it was chaotic. Today was no better. 

It's a Thursday and Andrew had his first day of teaching today—how rich for him! I've already started working on my third week of content. 

My sister Kelline flew in for a visit as well and, as luck would have it, her flight landed at 6:50 and Andrew's class let out at 7:00! Campus is only a few minutes from the airport, so he went to pick her up after he go out of class (she offered to ride MARTA out to us, but...it was just as easy to pick her up). 

Benjamin had swim practice at 6:00, so we quickly ate dinner and then everyone hopped in the car to take Benjamin to the Y. And then we drove to the library to pick up a hold for Miriam. Then we drove to the park to drop off the glass recycling we amassed over the summer and I had promised the little kids they could play at the playground for a little while, but...the parking lot by the glass recycling was all full because of baseball practice, so we had to go park in the next lot—by the outdoor hockey arena (iceless)—and then walk to the glass recycling.

We were laughing because the baseball parking lot was completely full—people were parked on the grass and just...all over the place—yet the hockey parking lot was nearly empty and it's honestly just as close of a walk from the hockey lot to the baseball fields as it is from the baseball lot. 

Parking lot -- baseball fields -- parking lot -- hockey arena.

It was not the same distance for us to carry our glass to the recycling receptacle, however. We had to carry our glass through the parking lot, the baseball fields, and another parking lot to get there. But that's okay. 

Alexander, Zoë, and I each took a box (I took two, actually). Miriam carried a big plate of glass from our fridge (from a shelf that mysteriously broke...no one knows how) and helped steer Phoebe in the right direction. The kids had fun throwing the jars into the bin. 

And by that time, unfortunately, it was about time to turn around and pick Benjamin up. Phoebe had so been looking forward to playing at the park, however, so (after clearing it with Miriam) I gave the kids a couple of options. They could either all pile in the van and we could pick up Benjamin together, or I could go pick up Benjamin alone and leave them at the park to play (under Miriam's supervision). 

Surprise, surprise—they chose to stay at the park. Miriam took a few pictures for me while they were playing (because we unearthed the 4T panda dress that matches whatever size Zoë's in now...that Zoë and Miriam used to wear simultaneously, though I can't find a picture of that right now):

Zoë and Phoebe, August 2025

Phoebe this morning

Phoebe woke up dry. 

"Are you ready for me to unplug your chummie?" I asked.

She put her hands over her ears. "Yes!"

I unplugged the chummie (which causes a couple loud beeps, which she doesn't like). Alexander turned on the bedroom light when he walked into the bedroom at that exact moment.

"Wow!" Phoebe exclaimed. "That turned on my light!!"

"That...is incredible!" I said. 

"Yeah, it is!"

Phoebe and I giggled about how funny it was that her chummie beeping turned on the light. 

"Actually, I turned on the light," Alexander explained. 

"That makes more sense!" Phoebe giggled. Then she immediately started singing, "Baby shark! Doo, doo, doo, doo, doo, doo! Baby shark..."

Sometimes she is the happiest, go-luckiest kid who just...wakes up in these fabulous moods. Not every day, but...just sometimes.

A potty training breakthrough?

After several good nights in a row, we have had several...not...good...nights...in a row. 

Quick tangent! 

When I was in high school I was (tangentially; I was an "extra" and didn't really have a part) in a musical production of The Mystery of Edwin Drood and in that play Princess Puffer has a line where she breaks the fourth wall to interact with the audience and she picks someone to point flirtatiously at and says, "Fancy seeing you here two nights in a row!"

But the girl who was playing the part was affecting a strong kind of...cockney...accent and so to my ears it sounded something more like, "Fancy seeing you here tonight, Sinnarow!"

And it took me years to untangle that line. I was always like, "Who is Sinnarow?!"

So, anyway, we've had a few bad potty nights, Sinnarow, and I've been losing hope. 

But, I just finished my run and took a shower (yes, I ran at midnight because I forgot to do it earlier and then I had to shower and then...)

Quick tangent!

New internet!

Our internet went down last night, sometime around dinner time. 

I had seen a technician out at the box earlier, but I can't remember when. Did I see him out the window from my chair while I was reading? Did I see him outside when I called the kids in for dinner? Or when we were driving off to swim practice and church activities?

Whatever the case, the internet went down sometime while we weren't quite paying attention (because we were having dinner). 

When Andrew noticed he made an appointment for today—sometime between noon and 4:00—and we did our best to go on with our lives, a very difficult thing when so much of our lives is online—our work, our school, and our family, honestly.

I took the kids to the church this morning. Miriam practiced the organ. The kids did their science lessons (online) and their math lessons (online) and played dodge ball and practiced on the real pianos (what a treat). And then we came home and waited for the technician. 

By 2:00 I was starting to worry. I knew they said they'd come between noon and 4:00, but I had class at 4:00...online...so I needed the internet to be back on by then. So I reached out to some neighbours and found someone home and willing to let me hop on their internet. 

But then at 2:15 the technician showed up! And we were back online by 3:30. 

We have some new neighbours moving in up the street—into Miss Anne's house—and they were getting outfitted with a new internet connection and somehow whoever was doing that cut the cable to our house...which was kind of obnoxious. 

The good news was that we didn't have to pay to have them come out because clearly this wasn't our fault...and they were astounded that our equipment was so old (we had it installed in 2019) so they updated our modem and wall box and things so it would be compatible with their new system. So, I guess that was nice. 

I was mostly relieved to be up and running in time for class!

Signs of autumn

More so than the drop in temperature, it's the bugs that tell us it's fall. 

Cicadas scream their last screams and fall from the trees to twitch on the ground in theatrical death throes before being overtaken by ants.

Joros string sticky tightropes in the trees, catching everything in sight, and growing rounder and rounder by the day. 

And then there's the oak worms. They're everywhere, black bodies writhing on the pavement, often squished by car tires and people's shoes, leaving yellow goo behind.

Phoebe collected an entire handful of them the other day (not wearing the outfit below—this picture was taken in the morning after when the kids remembered they'd meant to let them go again):

Grandpa Frank's funeral

Here we are after dinner with our Lindor truffles, to celebrate (with) Grandpa Frank, who loved Lindt chocolates:

Uncle Matt said that the last time he took Grandpa Frank shopping, Lindt chocolates were high on his list of necessities, so his kids decided they should have a bowl of Lindt chocolates for the funeral attendees to enjoy. We didn't get to go to the funeral, but we did get to watch online...and Andrew picked up some chocolates while he was out grocery shopping.

Still thinking about Halloween

Just so you're all aware, Phoebe sat by Daddy for dinner, but she's going to sit by me on Halloween. And she's going to say all the prayers on Halloween, too—so nobody else even think about it. 

We have to read The Ghosts Went Floating every day. 

And we have to think about how to be spookier and spookier. 

And we're going to get so much candy and have so much fun. 

Phoebe could talk about Halloween until the cows come home (and we don't have any cows, if that gives you an idea of how long we'd be waiting for that to happen). 

Anyway, we went on a walk today and Miriam was talking about what she might want to be for Halloween. She found some costume ideas from the 1920s that she thought was charming. But she also picked up a trench coat a the trading tables event our stake hosted a few weeks ago. 

"What do you think, Phoebe—should I be a butterfly or a detective?"

"A butterfly!" Phoebe answered quickly. 

Drain Monsters

It's a little early for Halloween books, I think...although we're already thinking hard about Halloween costumes over here, so perhaps not. Either way Phoebe grabbed a Halloween book off the shelf at the library the other day so...it's in our rotation. I think there's a Christmas book in there, too. 

She has no respect for seasons. 

Every time we go to the pool she says something about how she's "so glad it's May." It's not May (it's August), but she spent about October through April begging to go to the pool and we kept telling her that we could go "in May." So now every day that we go to the pool...is May. 

Which is different from "may can," which is her super polite way of saying "can I?" because one day at dinner I was making her correct all her "tan I have..." with "can I have" and then made a joke about how we'd finally get her to say "can" and then we'd have to break it to her that she should be saying may. 

She heard that and has started saying "may can I have..."

Anyway, to sum up, Phoebe has no respect for seasons, thinks "pool season" is synonymous with "May," and...she's terrified of drains.

This might be Rachel's fault. 

Almost out of braces

Unlike Miriam, who still has another year or so to go in braces (and Zoë, who isn't in braces yet but will be as soon as she gets a few more adult head in her teeth because she has an impressive cross bite), I am almost out of braces.

My top teeth are technically finished...apparently...though I'm still wearing my old tray as a retainer of sorts. My bottom teeth still have a few months to go. I have one tooth that is particularly stubborn so I had to get some imaging redone today to get a new set of trays that will get that tooth on track. 

There's this one dental assistant that always (always) struggles to understand that I (still) can't put my teeth together...which is one of the big reasons I got braces in the first place. "They" say things like biting and chewing are important. 

Anyway, although even I (an untrained eye, if you will) can see huge improvements in my bite...this dental assistant is forever upset that...I can't put my teeth together. 

There's a meme right now that uses a song by a guy that turns "terrible tinder conversations into songs" and I thought my conversation today would go so well with the "I have one daughter" song. I'm not super "into" making video memes, so you'll just have to imagine my text over the original (like this or this or this; there are so many examples). 

Original Meme	My conversation
You have any kids?	Can you bite down for me?
Yes, I have one daughter, how about you?	Yes, but I can't close my teeth because I have an open bite. That's why I'm in braces.
How many baby daddies do you have if you don't mind me asking?	Okay, your teeth aren't touching. I just need you to bite down now.
Ellipsis	Ellipsis.
I have one daughter.	I have an open bite.
I understand and is she by the same father?	I understand but for imaging I need you to bite with your teeth together.
I have one daughter.	I have an open bite.
I understand and is she by the same father?	I understand but for imaging I need you to bite with your teeth together.
I don't understand.	I don't understand.

Anyway, she eventually agreed to take the picture without my teeth closing...on account of...I can't.

Reading lessons and other things

Working so much on pronunciation with Phoebe has naturally led to phonics, so we've cracked open Teach Your Child to Read in 100 Easy Lessons again. So far we've done about 10 lessons and then started back at square one. And then we went through about 20 lessons and then started over again at lesson 10. And now we're just past lesson 20 for the second time, and it was perfect timing because the letter we added today was c and what sound does c make? 

/k/...which Phoebe just figured out how to produce! 

The poor thing was struggling so hard with the word "cat" today (she keeps saying "tac" instead). Typically she has substituted /t/ for /k/ so "cat" would be "tat." I suppose "tac" is a step in the right direction. We worked for a while on saying /k/ first and /t/ second, but it was a real challenge for her. 

At first she wasn't a huge fan of reading lessons but now she often asks me for lessons (even over the weekend when we don't "have to" do schoolwork). 

The other day she decided to pull out her reading lesson book so she could give one of her baby dolls (one of my baby dolls) a reading lesson. Here they are skipping way far ahead:

Chummie

Many of my children have been quite easy to potty train. For example, when I potty trained Alexander through the night, this is how it went:

"Buddy, we're going to put you to bed in your underwear today. No more diapers, okay?"

"Okay."

And...uhhhh...that was...that. Super easy. 

The kid never wet the bed.

Some of my kids have been a bit more of a challenge. For example, Benjamin. We eventually bought a "chummie," taking the advice of my good friend Bridget. Unfortunately for Benjamin it took ages to train him through the night (and the day), even with the chummie and every other trick in the book.

The chummie has sat in a box, waiting to see if it might be useful again, for several years now.

Because the good news is that most kids reach most milestones...eventually. And even though potty training Benjamin was a monumental task...it happened.

So, yes. Rachel and Miriam were easy. Benjamin was a challenge. Zoë and Alexander were easy. And Phoebe...has been a challenge. 

She took to daytime potty training so nicely that I thought for sure she'd be a breeze overnight. 

I was wrong. We have been working on overnight training for nearly two years. Casually—I mean, we wanted to let her be "ready" for it, but most of my kids (see list above) were potty trained over night before, by or around age 2. 

Phoebe is rapidly approaching 4. 

And I've been changing diapers for 18 years...I'm over it. So ready or not...it needs to happen at this point.

SPCH THRPY: Bat, Back, and Spot

Phoebe doesn't love "blends," so in addition to helping her figure out how to say /k/ we've also begun working on things like /sp/ and /sl/ and /st/ and things like that. I mean, there are several things she can't say properly (although properly is something she can say properly and she will tell you, "I tan't say dat properly), but those are the things we're targeting for now. 

She loves puppies, so I've been using Dick and Jane books to give us plenty of opportunity to say the word "Spot," since that is the name of their puppy. 

When we started on this particular project (just recently—we added it because she figured out /k/), she would always say, "Sot" instead of "spot." So we practiced saying "pot" and then "s" and then sssssss...pot and then put everything together. 

"Sput," Phoebe said. 

And I thought, "You know what? That's great! She's got the /sp/ and we can work on adding the vowel later."

Voicemail

Going through old voicemails from Grandpa Frank made me wish (1) that I had answered my phone less often so that I could have more of these gems (because believe it or not I do answer my phone sometimes), and (2) that I was brave enough to leave messages as charming as Grandpa Frank's always are.

Mattress coils

When we exchanged Phoebe and Zoë's old bunk bed for Benjamin's new loft bed, we were left with a couple of old mattresses on our hands (because Benjamin's new bed frame is a full not a twin). They were rather inexpensive mattresses in the first place, so were never very comfortable, but various children have used them for...at least 13 years...so they'd...been through some...stuff. 

I won't list all the bodily fluids they encountered. And, I mean, we used mattress covers...but they got gross anyway. 

I don't really blame anyone for not wanting them. 

But—goodness sakes!—do you know how much it costs to dispose of a mattress?

Luckily, I know a guy!

Highercase and Lowercase

The other day Phoebe wanted to ask if she could play Minecraft. 

We use acronyms for everything in our house—to talk about what shows we want to watch (for example, DW means Doctor Who), to talk about our Favourite Part of the Day (FPOD), to announce that it's leftover night (YOYO—you're on your own). If something isn't an acronym, we make it an acronym just for fun. 

So in order to ask if she could play Minecraft, Phoebe put together the letters "MC" on the fridge and pulled Andrew over to ask if she could "play MC."

Love and bebove

Poor Phoebe does not get along well with the little neighbour girl her age, and by "not get along well" I mean that [Child] has simply had a vendetta against Phoebe since they were crawling. I honestly don't know why. Sometimes they'll play quite nicely together (especially if grown ups are mediating), but often they simply don't. 

Literally the first full sentence I heard [Child] speak was to Phoebe and it was, "You're not my best friend! Haha! You're not my best friend! Haha!"

Now that they're older, she's constantly spewing out things like: "If you don't ______ then you're not my friend," and "I don't like you," and "You can't play with me," and "No Phoebes allowed."

And I'm honestly not sure why she's like that because...her parents aren't like that (and don't like that behaviour). And, again, Phoebe has done nothing particular to warrant this treatment because this profound dislike has been going on since they were barely toddling around. But, nonetheless, that's where we're at. (I honestly would check in at her daycare to see whether she's being bullied there and is passing it along to Phoebe, but...that's just my gut.)

Today Phoebe was playing outside with her siblings and another neighbour, but when [Child] came outside to play, Phoebe came inside to play.

"Don't you want to play outside with the other kids?" I asked her.

"No, thanks," she said. "[Child] doesn't like me. I'd rather play inside where everybody loves me."

Obviously this is a problem that will eventually need to be solved somehow, because it isn't fair for Phoebe to have to hide away inside so that [Child] won't say mean things to her. But it's nice that home is where she feels safe. 

*****

On another note, we were playing Magnatiles together ("Mom, I love spending time with you!" she told me...probably to coax me into playing with her longer...and it worked) and I was reminded of another funny thing Phoebe says consistently: bebove. 

Bebove is the opposite of below or beneath. 

So if you were to swim down to the very bobbom of the pool, you would have a lot of water bebove you.

I think it's rather cute!

Here and there

Our homeschool "not-back-to-school" party drew a pretty small crowd this year, perhaps in part because of how "chilly" it's been. The little hint of autumn didn't stop us from enjoying the pool, however! It was good to see so many of our friends—and to get to meet a few new families. 

DOI

I submitted our "declaration of intent to homeschool" (DOI) the other day and was surprised—as I was filing it away—to realize there's a long list of DOIs in my DOI folder...

Strangely I seem to have moved from being a homeschooling newbie to being somewhat of a veteran homeschool educator. I'm not quite sure how that happened because I still feel like I have no idea what I'm doing and am just figuring things out one day at a time.

But, I mean, I didn't hesitate or cry or get all queasy when I pushed the submit button (which was not the case in 2019) so I must be making progress (or at least gaining confidence) as a homeschool educator. 

And Rachel graduated and is starting college...so we didn't mess her plans up too badly.

I went from two homeschooled students in 2019 (Benjamin and Miriam) to four homeschooled students in 2020 (Rachel, Miriam, Benjamin, and Zoë). In 2023 we officially had five homeschooled students when Alexander joined everyone as a kindergarten student. Now we're back down to four students and that's the most I'll ever have at one time from here on out, which is probably plenty.

Technically Phoebe is doing pre-K stuff this year, but she's not "on the record" yet (and won't be until after Miriam graduates).

(Submitting an annual DOI is one of few requirements for homeschooling in Georgia, and it is necessary for certain things—like for a child to get a driver's license, and so forth.)

A few things Phoebe has said lately:

Phoebe: Do you remember how I broke Miriam's arm by this fence?

Me: Yes, but please explain. 
Phoebe: I rode into her with my tricycle and tripped her right over, remember?

Me: You did do that. 
Phoebe: That was miles and miles ago.

Me: It was...a long time ago...comparative to your age...yes.

Andrew: Alright, you guys are sleeping in your new room tonight!

Phoebe (shrieking): WITH ALL THESE WEAPONS?!

Andrew: Those aren't weapons. Those are...tools. And we'll move them out before we put you to bed.

Phoebe: *mutters to herself about how unconscionable it is to put a baby to bed in a room full of weapons*

(We've been calling our little pile of tools our "armory" ever since, but Andrew just put everything away in the ultimate armory—the garage).

Phoebe: I am so excited to go to the pool again for the party that I'm invited to this time.*

Me: Oh, so am I.

Phoebe: I will just throw my sinky toys in and they will sink to the bobbom of the pool and then I will swim to the bobbom and grab them up. But I won't throw them in the deep end because I can't touch the bobbom there. So I will throw them in the shallow end. But when I'm big enough to touch the bobbom of the deep end I will throw my sinky toys in the deep end and get them from the very bobbom. 

Me: That sounds like a good plan.

* We're having our "not-back-to-school" homeschool party tomorrow. It was supposed to be on Monday when the public school kids went back, but it was like 65°F and raining so we postponed. For the record, she's been trying to touch the bottom of the deep end for weeks now. I hate it when she tries because she's not great at getting up for air in the first place and ten feet is a long way to go for a little girl (twenty feet if you count coming back up again, which Alexander does). But, as she said, she's never made it down that far yet.

Phoebe: Aw, man! Why is this Benjamin's blanket and not mine?

Me: Because...that's his baby blanket. He got it when he was a baby.

Phoebe: But it has a monkey on it and I love it. Can I have it?

Me: No. It's Benjamin's.

Phoebe: But he's not a baby anymore. 

Me: It still belongs to him.

Phoebe: What if we ask him if I can have it? And if he says yes, then...good...and if he says no then...*sigh*...I will be okay.

Me: How about...it's Benjamin's?

Phoebe: FINE-uh.

The kids in Utah

At this time last week we were either all weeping as we drove home in the rain...or were off to Kroger to do a snack run for a long road trip. 

The older kids have now been gone for a week and their whirlwind trip to Utah is just about over. Tomorrow is their last full day there (except for Rachel, who will be there for longer). 

Miriam has been enjoying her time at the organ workshop. She had a private lesson with Joseph Peeples (a tabernacle organist), which I assume went well. My mom went with her to that (because Miriam is a minor she was required to have an adult present at her private lesson).

Forced Perspective Photo Shoot

Today on Facebook a memory from five years ago popped up, a memory that I apparently didn't ever get around to blogging about. It must have been near the beginning of the school year, still at the beginning of the pandemic, and we did a little photo shoot playing with forced perspective. 

Here's Zoë holding up Benjamin and Miriam:

If you give a parent a paintbrush...

They'll* run to the store to grab just the shade of grey you wanted. To be safe—they'll grab two cans! 

Nonrefundable, of course (because once you tint it, it's yours).

Then they'll* decide they need some white paint to redo the trim. They'll* quickly grab a can and then rush home. 

When they've finished painting the room grey, they'll** realize they have 1.25 cans leftover. That will start them*** thinking about what else they could possibly paint that same colour. 

But they** still have the trim to paint, so they'll** break out the white paint and get to work. 

When they're** finished painting, the parent* (who went to the store to get the paint but didn't help do any of the painting because they had to finish grading so they could submit grades by the deadline) will ask if the painting parent** can simply repaint the banister as well...since the paint is out. 

So they'll** paint the banister. And then they'll** rinse out their paintbrush.

Before and after

Benjamin's walls have successfully been transformed from a light grey and what-were-you-thinking purple... 

Room swapping

This morning Phoebe climbed into bed to snuggle. 

"Mommy, can you read me five-and-a-half stories?" she asked. 

"Five-and-a-half stories?" I repeated.

"Mommy, you're weird," she said. 

"You request five-and-a-half stories and I'm the one who's weird?"

"Yes. Every morning when I press my nose into your skin and sniff you...you smell so...weird."

"Oh. Well, thank you."

"You're welpum."

And then she squirmed out of the bed and picked five books from the shelf. We actually ended up getting through only four-and-a-half of them before she decided it was time for breakfast.

*****

Cancelled Primary Party

This morning we woke the kids up to get ready for the back-to-school primary party, but just as we'd all changed into our swimming suits...we got the message that it was cancelled—rather, postponed—due to thunder at the location.

But we hadn't heard any thunder at our location, so we decided that since we were all ready to go we'd head to the pool for a little while. We have a cold front—"False Fall," if you will—coming in and things are going to get mighty chilly, comparatively speaking. We have a high of 70°F tomorrow. Our windows are open right now. This is...weird. 

And it also means the pool will cool off significantly, so we thought we'd enjoy one last splash in the warm pool. And it was warm—it felt warmer inside the pool than it did outside this morning. 

We swam in the morning drizzle until a birthday party arrived. Technically you're not supposed to have birthday parties at the pool unless you go through the leadership and check a bunch of boxes. We'll assume this family did that. But they were also, like, eating popsicles in the pool which is technically speaking against the rules...and it got to be a little difficult for Phoebe to be there but not be part of the party (they have popsicles over there?! And music...and balloons...and...it was too much)...so we left. 

But before that we had a fun time swimming together. Zoë helped Phoebe work on her big arms:

Long live the sunscreen bottle!

As summer was winding down last year, the last full bottle of sunscreen got knocked from the counter and fell to the floor. The lid broke. In the most technical of terms: the little plug part simply shattered off the lid, remaining wedged in the little hole the sunscreen is supposed to squirt out of.  

Andrew wanted to throw it away, but I was like, "No way! It's still perfectly good inside!"

I tried to take off the entire lid so that I could perhaps squirt it into an old and more functional bottle, but that was an impossible task. So I moved to plan B. It took me quite a bit of time to pick out the little plug piece from the bottle the first time I did it, but I eventually managed it and triumphantly declared that it would be the first bottle we'd use this summer. 

We wouldn't use any other sunscreen until this stuff was gone...

Folks, we have finished off about five other bottles of sunscreen this summer (naturally).

No one ever wants to use this stuff unless I pull out the little plug and squirt it into their hands. The bottle has gotten a little...messy...over the course of the summer because the lid simply doesn't plug up as nicely as it might if it were, say, not broken. So it's lived in a ziplock bag in the pool bag (adding another layer of complication to self-application, further explaining why no one uses it unless I pull it out and force them to).

But I'm happy to announce that it is finally, finally (just about) empty. 

Any day now it will squirt its last squirt and we can retire it for good!

And we will all rejoice.

Saying goodbye to Rachel

Yesterday was a painful day of waiting. 

The day had come to say goodbye, but the hour was not yet at hand. So we just...went through all the motions of having a regular day...which was really anything but ordinary...and yet was entirely ordinary.

I convinced all the kids to come to the pool with me, in part so I could take our traditional "end of season" pool picture. Although it's not the end of the pool season yet, it is the end of an era:

(Zoë apparently taught Phoebe and Ireland to make peace signs in pictures, so they've both been trying to do it since.)

First day and last day at home with Rachel

A little over 18 years ago we brought our brand new baby girl home from the hospital. We placed her in her bassinet and...