A bouquet from our garden.
Daisies
Hollyhocks
An escape.
A sun stained kitchen.
Corn
Yes, we got a kitty.
My perfect baby has soured as a toddler.
The shirt sent her into a tail spin.
There are the constant temper tantrums, hitting, spitting, poop-painting every. single. nap.
It may be just the approaching of "2" or the study of demonology. It's hard to tell.
4 comments:
POOP PAINTING!
Oh, Martha, I am so sorry. And I am secretly laughing, incredulously and all with love in my heart.
Ohhhhh, I'm sorry, too. Really really.
The other pictures are lovely. I do love your photo abilities.
OH! OUCH!! I really really don't like that age. Really. And poop painting!? We used to buy special clothes for Ethan to keep it in. It was like a wrestler's uniform. A onesie with long legs and the snaps behind so he couldn't reach it. Good times, good times.
At least your house is gorgeous.
hi martha,
you don't really know me. But ask Brad or Wade who I am. I have been blog stalking you for a while. You are quite inspiring.
Sorry about the poop. Your flowers are beautiful. I love your decorating style. your running amazes me. One question: Are your countertops soapstone? if not, what is it?
PS. I lived in MI for a while.
Post a Comment