For Posterity's Sake: Week in Review 77

I took a bit of a mini-break this weekend. We made no big plans. No big adventures interfered with my blogging time, just the small adventures: Nathan learning to make clucking noises with his tongue; his rounds of "push-ups" that trick us into thinking he might crawl at any moment; Audrey's gallery of pavement art; and her first experience as captain of a sparkler.

As we watched the fireworks Sunday, one babe scared awake and wild-eyed in my lap and the other too busy playing with friends to take heed of eruptions in the sky, I could not help but feel gratitude for the simple things in front of me: good friends, precious family, blanketed yards, and the latest project coming together on my knitting needles. Of course, with blasts like gunpowder and color lighting up the sky, one's mind drifts to the events and people (known and nameless) without whom, these simple luxuries would not exist. Gratitude abounds: for those for whom the fireworks swell who willingly gave so much in hopes of lives simple and good. Gratitude abounds: for those fireworks - the big and bold, and those small and vibrant and right before my eyes. Memorable moments from last week:

On Tuesday, Audrey set a banana on the kitchen table with its stem pointing up. "This looks like a duck swimming," she said.

Wednesday, while changing her clothes:

Me: Is your underwear on backward?

Audrey: Yes. But it doesn't hurt. It's okay.

Later that day, she found the picture I posted of Jason and I hugging at graduation.

"Mommy, what's that?" she asked.

"That's your Daddy with hair," I said.

"Oh!"

On Thursday, while looking in the mirror as I brushed her hair, she said, "I like my hair messy but not in my eyes."

Audrey came up to me on Saturday as I sat at the kitchen table. I showered her face with kisses. She laughed. She showered me back. "I have pictures of you on my kisses," she said.

I hope your weekend provided you with a little break filled with simple pleasures, vibrant fireworks, and kisses with your picture (or at least your name) on them.