We Will Need Them All

"Don't wish me happiness. I don't expect to be happy all the time...It's gotten beyond that somehow. Wish me courage and strength and a sense of humor. I will need them all." --Anne Morrow Lindbergh

Changes are upon us, but not much feels different. Independence for some, new companionship for others, and there's a feeling that it's all going to change in a year. And it's definitely going to, but we also need to pause and let it just happen. Or maybe that's just me. 
There are the dates that we're waiting to arrive, like September 23: the day Meghan starts her new job. Let's pause, breathe and celebrate that. We're proud of you, but, more importantly, you're proud of you. I think you've got most of the changes already behind you, or just waiting for you on the threshold, and that's exciting and exhausting at the same time.
How about September 26: the day I start my third Senior year of college, and the final one at that. Patting myself on the back, wiping the sweat from my upper lip, and picturing Barrett standing next to me in my cap and gown. Along with my three best ladies, of course. If that doesn't get me through these next nine months, at least pictures of Norway and the Italian coast will. I'm hopeful of that. 
Or how about October 23: the day Brit flies 3,000 miles to face her beloved New York, New York, reunite with those of past shenanigans, and meet The Case. We're proud of you, and I think when you step off the plane, it'll almost feel like nothing's changed. But, you'll see. We'll see. Obviously everything has tilted on its own axis, reversed, turned the other way, and pushed you forward into a completely different world, but that city's still home in some aspects. 
Or, finally, how about Halloween, Thanksgiving, Christmas, the day Barrett says "I love You", a new year, Alex's store's opening (it's gonna happen, lady!), or the moment the Magnolia tree in our front yard finally decides to give our house a huge, wall-breaking hug? Or maybe, just maybe, the day we realize that we're in "it" and that there's nothing better than what we're doing, simply because we're just doing it? Maybe we'll never get there, or maybe we're in it right now and we're just too focused on getting out of right now to see it. Either way, we're in it together, guys, gals, shit-heads, cats, and the homeless, so let's keep doing what we're doing. 

Life Moments | September 7- September 13

Barrett played model.

Except nothing is as beautiful as a naked window greeting at the peak of the afternoon. 

Or these other moments we've been livin' lately.

 

Meghan and I went swimming in new bathing suits and went to a wedding in a church--all in one week. We're growing up, folks! But we'll never be too old for a match of mancala outside of Twiggs. And yes, Molly is married. Guess we're not the only ones growing up. 

September, keep doin' your thing. We'll be here doing ours. 

P.S. Thanks for the 70 degrees today. Keep it up. 

More Relevant Than Ever

“Fall will come in San Diego. Eventually. It will fake us out for a while. And it may feel inconvenient when it does make an appearance because we’ll be wearing shorts and sandals. But heck. Let it come when it does. The sketchbook will be there, and if it doesn’t get love every day, there will be times later when I’ll be glad I have all the extra pages. I think. I hope.” -Kelsey Brown 

Life on a Sunday | Life Lately | One Year Anniversary

 It's officially September, and it's officially Summer. The humidity and high temperatures have left us with perma boob sweat and Barrett in nothing but a diaper for the last four days. At least the sunsets and orange evenings have kind of made up for the fact that there is no point in showering. Kind of. We've been stalking Alex's head for lice and the cats are out calling their frenimies to come play. Well, Bowie is. Let September 1st mark his second great escape into the backyard to find Mr. Black cat. This time, through the laundry room. Sneaky, sneaky fella. 
Let September 1st also mark our one year anniversary at Pennsylvania Ave! Cheers to us, ladies and gentleman. And here's to another year of modern family-ing. Let us pretend we are celebrating at the North Park Theater and enjoying the raspy voice of our dearest Tallest Man and wine in plastic togo cups like we were doing this time last year. 

Alex, Barrett, and I fought the heat and helped our city out by venturing to the farmer's market just before closing. Flowers, veggies, croutons, and lots and lots of nectarine samples. And a couple, "Oh my god, his eyes!" moments with local Grandmas. Tonight we're in for a home-cooked meal by madam Alex and some crazy smiles from Mr. Bear. He's been extra cheery today. Always the happiest when playing chase and pretending to get hurt. It's been "ow, ow, ow" until we kiss his fake boo boos. Little drama king. Pretend tickling has taken the place of hits to the face, so thank you to Auntie Brit for finding a way to save our noses. 

Megh was a little dead these past few days, so it's been nice to have her around today. Even got a brunch in the sun at Empire House. Tots are the cure for all things bad. And lucky for her, no work tomorrow! Brit'll be stylin' and I'll be babysittin'. That's okay, though, because we're all together tonight for a Sunday dinner. 

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And now for a few Barrett moments we shouldn't forget:
[8/26-8/31]

Go us...finally using the fire pit! 

A Bear & A Brit & A Miley

Bear went on a little vacation to Grandma & Grandpa's this past weekend. Mom needed (needs) a break. We're officially convinced he's just bored of our house and bored of us. And was probably spoiled rotten by the two best grandparents. Apparently he was an angel, so it was nice for Alex to be baby free. We even saw a movie! The Spectacular Now. Got our fix of teen angst with a coming of age film. Brit, Alex, and I were pleasantly surprised. Well written, well acted. 
We were all reunited with the little guy last night. He ate in his teepee, pooped mid-dance, swayed to Django Reinhardt, and used his new teeth brushin' skills with Aunty Brit. The two Bs in this house are best buds. Meghan and I like to think we have a chance at being his favorite aunt, but Brit comes home each night and we don't really exist anymore. It seems as though we all have different roles in his life, and it's obvious that Brit takes the stand as the older teenage brother. Still figuring out what Meghan and I are. Maybe one day he'll let us know. 

After a huge red wine spill and multiple time outs, we caught the VMAs just in time. Even Barrett was dropping his jaw with Miley and Gaga's butts in his face. Or maybe it was all our talk about how we don't understand anything anymore. Guess that's the key to sleep since he eventually passed out in mom's arms. 

Wednesday Dinner

Josh came to our side of town last night for a dinner outside. I made lemon orzo with cucumber, feta, and parsley, Meghan made balsamic asparagus, and Josh sliced the French baguette and ate half of it throughout the process. Two days ago, Grandpa gave me five bananas that were on the verge of spoiling, aka perfect for banana bread. Alas, bread was baked! In the mix up of baking powder over baking soda and not having even a cup of sugar (and Josh's desperation for snacks), the three of us ventured out for a moonlit stroll to Rite Aid where we were greeted with the crazies of the city. Or maybe we were the crazies. Pretending to have a date in front of a Bud Lite display with children's sunglasses on is pretty crazy I guess. Josh got his ice cream, Meghan got a compliment from the man "guarding" the door, and I got my supplies needed to finish the damn bread...and some musical inspiration. I made them listen to Fly Like An Eagle about six times in a row and made a loaf that's so moist it might just tip over and collapse. 

                                                                             

A Peek Into Monday Night | 18 Months Old

These days, we're all just hoping that he has a good session of belly laughing and doesn't break his nose from flipping over the back of the couch. He's crazy and he knows what he wants. It's weird to think that when we moved in here--almost a year ago!--he was a drooly blob that couldn't be left alone. I sometimes look at him as he watches his "shows" and eats blueberries on the couch (that he sat on by himself,) and think that he doesn't need us anymore. Flash forward to five minutes after that peaceful sit sesh, and it's tugging on mom's knee caps wanting whatever he wants and whining about Bowie being upstairs. Everything is "mommy" and mommy is his everything. Brit usually comes in to save the night and whisks him upstairs for some rough housing while Alex, Megh, and I watch a bad TLC or ABC Family show. Or the Bachelor. Two nights ago, this is what happened, and Brit and the babe came back downstairs and caught a glimpse of the "Man with the 132 lb. Scrotum" special. Bear plopped into my lap and quietly passed out with food in his hand. I guess that's his new thing since the breast feeding-to-sleep battle is finally over! I can roll with that. 

Also, really into nudity. Any time, any room. 

                                                           

 [Words]

Bowie

Mommy

Dog/Woo woo

Cheeeeeeese!

Please

Sorry

Shows

Ball

Nose

Eyes

Whoa!

Uh oh! 

Hi/Bye

Apple

Bubble

Purple Skies & Madeleine Peyroux

We're on the eve of a full moon over here and it seems to have casted a heat spell within our house, while leaving the front porch calling our names. Tacos and quinoa warmed up the kitchen and a short walk (and a heavy tumble) to the mailbox warmed up Bear, Meghan, and Alex. After finishing the dishes with a slight facial, we brewed blueberry tea and set out for the porch. I made the ultimate Pandora station earlier today: Feist, Regina Spektor, Camera Obscura, Beach House, and Madeleine Peyroux. Meghan and I decided the toots and sweet whispers of those ladies were the soundtrack needed for our round of mancala. 
M looked like a hood-rat in her mosquito protection--black hoodie, black sweats, knee highs, and lace-ups. The moon was rising in front of me and downtown illuminated the sky in front of her. Brightness all around on this August night, and Bear and Alex joined the porch just in time for some dancin', smokin', and tea spillin'. Megh and I decided that Bear is the kid that shows up to the party, seems cool, gets wasted, punches a guy in the face, and is never seen again. Of course, he's our best friend, and the sap keeping us together, and his new bruise on the left side of his forehead just gives him his first flaw and a great story (and, of course, Mom her heart attack of the day). I'll have to have Megh post the waddle video.

It's been a fast and breezy summer with highs of only eighties so far. Feels as though there's a dawn of the death of high nineties, but dreams of crazy elevations and cabins along the river are getting us through the idea that we will be wearing sweat instead of cardigans in November with the Indian summer that hasn't greeted us yet.