Garden Fairies

Last week, two episodes of Angelina Ballerina made their way onto PBS. The effects, in our house, were life changing, to say the least. It seems that said episodes are responsible for our two little twins twirling around the house refusing to wear anything but ballerina outfits, oh and yesterday London asked me if she could in fact change her name to Angelina.
Which behavior can only be chocked up to the eccentricities of four-year-olds, and double if there are two of them, but now why didn't I think to capture it on film. Isn't it part of our job title as moms to be on the lookout for the perfect photo opportunity? Sometimes my best efforts to get my girls bathed, color coordinated, not to mention happy backfire into a series of painfully staged winces. But yesterday, upon rounding the corner on yet another load of endless dishes, I looked out the window and saw this scene--
weeds in the yard
tangled hair and all.
It was perfect.





I have never met a little girl who loves flowers as much as London. She interrupts every event-bike ride, soccer game, or trip to the library having spotted another one. We have had talks about only picking the weeds.


She always gives them to me.




Madelyn twirls and twirls...
Who doesn't love their very own swing in the backyard?
I chuckle that you never switch swings, even for a minute. Every new toy that comes home, every new song you learn in school has to be tried out on the swing. And if you forget the words, insert a makeshift version of 'part of your world,' the chorus of which is sometimes deafening.




Sometimes before you notice I sit for a minute and listen to your conversations. Livvy's face print on the back door tells me she does the same. The swings that now blow empty in the wind remind me you have places to be. Liv crawls from room to room in the house, the self-appointed search party. After one week of similar, self-appointed paranoia, I know exactly where you are now:
you
are
thriving.