Shorts

I'm a blogger. I blog.  The only problem is that you're my only readers. And you don't read yet. Can we say "irony"?

About two years ago your Uncle John started a blog about himself and the island, but I think he was a bit busy to keep up. I  never found anything new on there, so I stopped looking and I think he stopped writing after a while.  But lately I've been inspired by some of the blogs I've been reading online to work on a few projects and try to complete some of the cluttery piles of "stuff" that I am convinced will become something adorable. Or fantastic. Or chic.  

Or it could just be the bags that I can use for the groceries.  All the online ladies have been chatting about a new book about sewing projects that can help with the problems in our environment- recycling sweaters (done it),  shopping bags (do it and carry them) and the smaller bags that you can use to put your veg in so that the cashiers can weigh all the apples and such without using the thin plastic bags that are NEVER recycled.  So this morning while your dad went to the park with you, Jordan took a nap and I gave half a dozen old tea towels a new purpose.  We'll see if I can use them at the store or if the cashiers are too annoyed that they'll have to look in the bag to see what it is.

I'd put a picture up, but I keep thinking to myself "Twenty years from now, are the girls really going to want to see a picture of the veggie bags?" and my answer is usually "No."  You'll be busy, productive, exciting, thoughtful, crazy women and this will be one of the posts that you'll skip over to get the good stuff where I tell you about childbirth and sex. Not necessarily in that order. 

So today was the usual conversation/negotiation/argument about what you were all going to wear today.  Since there was a plan to go to the park, I wanted shorts. As usual, Grace was the ring leader in getting Eleanor and Jordan to want dresses or skirts. Okay, so J can't talk yet, but you can see it in her eyes.  

Me: How about a pretty shirt and shorts? Then you can climb ladders and slide and you won't have to worry about catching your hem.

Grace: No Mommy, I want a dress. I mean, no thank you Mommy. I prefer a dress. 

Me: Well how about your brand new pink polka dotted shorts?

Grace: No thank you Mommy, I want longs.