The Blur of Summer

Today was the first day of school.  Besides the fact that my inner worn-out mama is jumping up and down like a kid in a bouncy house, I'm left scratching my head over what happened to the last few months.  Other than the speed bumps of vacation, we've been at home, going ninety-to-nothing holding babies,

 

making dough,

  styling personal pizzas,

and baking a crazy cake all by our little self.

 We've been picking flowers,

picking noses,

 and picking footwear.

We've been buzzed by a crop duster,

scared delightfully out of our skins once 

 and twice.

We've lost teeth

and gained them,

drooling all the way.

 We've put up green beans,

sweet corn,

and gobs of tomatoes.

We've sneaked off during Daddy's Sunday afternoon nap,

  and mobbed him to look up the tractor classifieds.

 We've eaten many breakfasts,

 

 many dinners,

 and a little bit of ice cream.

 We've read voraciously

and slept soundly.

  We've been together...

a lot.

We've had a great summer, no matter the speed of life.  On the other hand, if my washing machine could talk, it would slap me.