Fleeting Moments

I have a lingering cold that got worse and then got better and then got worse again. It's slowly crept up my body starting with the classic aches and chills then a sore neck and throat. Then I felt fine for a few days. And now it's back again. In my nose and in my head. Like I'm in a fog. Never bad enough to contain myself in bed all day, but annoying enough that it's, well, annoying. So instead of writing up some well thought-out post, I'm going to sit here with my glass of water and box of Kleenex and clear out some pictures on my camera from the last week or so.



Photo #1

Last week I started taking a series of pictures of our backyard.  The temperatures were warm and I thought it might be cool to show a time-lapse photo series of the melting snow.  I only got to through two photos before we got dumped on again.  Darnit.

But here's the pictures anyway.  I know the difference appears to be very little but I'm telling you, it was huge.  Look at those sidewalks.  Just lovely to finally see pavement even if only for a little while.

Photo #2

I thought about taking a photo on Monday morning after we were greeted with a punch in the kidneys (well over a foot of snow) but I just couldn't do it.  A little too depressing for this summer-lovin' mama.






So instead here's some more puddlin'-jumpin' and walk-around-the-block photos from the one day last week when it hit a whoppin' 52 degrees.  William asked if we could blow up the swimming pool in the backyard.  He was 100% serious. 

I love this one.  Just when I thought he was going to run into her and bump her to the ground, he enveloped her in a huge hug.  And she hugged him right back.

And if you really must see, here's what our street looked like in the midst of the blizzard on Sunday night.  Two steps forward, seventy-nine giant steps back.

Moving on to other news, we all got haircuts on Monday.  We get haircuts once every couple of months at my girlfriend's house.  This usually doesn't make news except on this particular occasion my little lady was to get her very first chop.  She's had a few wispy ends evened-up here and there but never a full-on cut.

I was a little nervous.  When he was the same age, William loathed getting his hair cut more than anything in the world.  At four years old, he's come around.  

He asked for a Mohawk and got something a little Sven-ish.

When it was her turn she crawled up on the stool all by herself.  Her normal antsy toddler body sat perfectly still as the cape was wrapped around her little neck.  She tilted her head to the floor just as she was asked and didn't flinch an inch.  I noticed how old she looked.  I noticed how she still carries half her weight in those massive cheeks of hers.  I noticed how long and perfect her hair had really grown.

Every once in a while just her eyeballs would move up, looking at me, "A hair cut, Mommy!"

My heart danced.  On so many other fleeting moments it doesn't even cross my mind, but in those few seconds I was so, so happy to have a little girl.