This is the month when summer begins to tease. The days stretch longer, as do our shadows. Only the weekends seem to get shorter. The Riouxs do their best to jam pack their days off with mini adventures -- E on his bike, M laughing in the baby swing at the park, Daddy-man building bow and arrows for his little archer, teaching him how to set up a shot. Learning when not to shoot will take more time, more patience.
M is crawling on all fours now, no more soldier-in-the-trenches, no more eager inch-worm. Cat food is no longer safe on the floor. As if crawling weren't accomplishment enough, this little babe is pulling himself to stand and cruising the furniture. He wants to catch his big brother, but no one can match E in a race (though he's always up for the challenge).
Preschool is over for the year. E painted boots and planted flowers in them for his teachers. If he could have planted them a garden he would have, and they would have deserved it.
Days are lazier now. At least, that is, we move at a lazier pace. Or perhaps we simply long to be lazier, it depends on which Rioux you ask and at which time of day. As J types, the light has grown dim around her. The house is filled with the quiet of sleep. She should join in, she knows, but her man is up typing too, working his writing muscle.
So much for laziness, it would seem. Maybe on the weekend.
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