yeah...
That was approximately two hours after he arrived home and exactly 34 minutes into an episode of the West Wing, which I will no doubt recap for him when we start the next one and he has no idea what's going on. His exhaustion was completely legitimate, but now that I'm thinking about it, Joshua stays awake for approximately 75% of anything we are watching. He's lucky that I haven't exploited this entertainment narcolepsy. (Such a bummer how Dwight brutally killed Michael in a fit of rage as part of Steve Carrell's exit from The Office, right? I'm going to try this one.)
The house was pristine when Joshua arrived last night, because I'm really good at shoving things in closets and drawers and lighting candles and creating the illusion that our home life is nothing if not a well-curated Pinterest board. I do not just survive my solo parenting weekends, I thrive!
However, this morning I was reminded that toddlers are little vortexes of destruction, hell bent on ruining your dreams of catalog living. If the work of childhood is play, the work of parenthood is not punching yourself in the face after picking up the same blocks and beads and crayons a zillion and one times a day. And we weren't particularly neat or fastidious people to begin with, so you can imagine that when our powers combine, the outcome is that on mornings like this one we are one dead cat away from a hoarders episode.
In the picture above, Matilda was explaining in no uncertain terms to Joshua that her beads needed to come out of the whale tub (which is still kicking it in her closet as a toy) and he was politely but firmly declining her request on the basis that we had reached our limit of Items Underfoot.
We decided the best thing to do when faced with a major clean up project would be to leave.
And now for a quick and not very cohesive report on life outside our chaos-littered condo...
We are on the cusp of fall, people. See above! For every luscious heirloom tomato someone picked today in the community garden, ten chlorophyll-depleted leaves hit the ground.
Matilda apparently loves hats and was especially fond of this jaunty herringbone number. Also, to my great shame, I'm wearing sunglasses inside in that picture and I apologize for falling victim to one of my own pet peeves. It was just so bright that I forgot to take them off. Joshua was literally turning into a sunbeam at the exact moment I snapped that shot, so...I promise it's not a thing I do regularly.
Chicago is so gorgeous in every season, and we couldn't possibly see enough of it these days. We are so grateful that this is our city. I'm thankful that we can walk outside and feel a sense of relief that we are 1) not as likely to slip on a pile of crayons and break something as we are indoors and 2) that we are most certainly living our lives in the place we are meant to be right now. Days that we are all together exploring and wandering and being a "really nice family!" (Matilda's words, and the sweetest ones since the last phrase I deemed the sweetest) are just so precious.
She is gentle! She is wild!
She's a riddle! She's a child!
She's a headache! She's an angel!
She's a girl!
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