Telling one story for every 'polkadot' on my face.: 'Today was good. Today was fun. Tomorrow is another one' ~Dr. Suess

So summer.
As much as a love it, I am starting to crave a regular schedule.
I am almost tired of the kids running out the door to play before I am even dressed. 3 months later it is still quite embarrassing to be running outside after a dog or someone at 8 a.m. braless, teeth not brushed, and smelly. You think I might have learned my lesson and will get up and get myself dressed upon rising. Nope. And by the time it happens I am cursing my way out the door because I always run into someone. Quite typically someone dressed all nice, smelling all pretty on their way to work. And here I am barefoot with a baby just in a diaper draped in my arms, coffee breath, boobs down to my belly button, running after my dumb dog. It's awesome. I am a terrible mother that way. I like to laze in the mornings, I have 3 small children, I don't get what I want in regards to that, and promptly upon my arrival back through the front door, I am on my way up the stairs to throw on something, that will get snot, pee, popsicle drool, and what not all over it, kissing my sweet summer morning away.

The darling oldest starts preschool in September. We can all hardly wait, sort of. Kendall is beyond excited, I am excited for her, and that's it. This child needs school like cereal needs milk. You can eat it plain, but it is much better with it. She would be fine going to kindergarten without it, but is much better for going to it. And it's simple like that. She needs a place that is special Kendall time that only Kendall goes to and not the boys. She needs a place where she is not the boss. And she needs a place to give her that final bump out of little girl stage to just girl stage. It's so sad. E, Jake, and I are going to sit in the parking lot and cry the first day. Well I will cry over Kendall, they will cry because their crazy mom is keeping them pent up in the van for 3 hours.I am going to beg Andy to stay home on this day so that he can take her. I won't be able to bear it. As much as I am ready for it, was she not my baby not to long ago?

We have been so busy this summer I feel as though it really didn't happen. I know it was hot out, man was it hot out, but I feel like I need to go and roll around in the sand or something and eat a few more ice cream cones on the front steps with the kids.

Last weekend we went to our annual end of summer event. And though it is really in the middle of August, once that weekend goes by, Labor Day is here. This year it becomes a bit more meaningful as Kendall goes to school, and I am left with my little men. Can you tell I am for sure going to be a blubbering mess? It is just preschool, but it is away from the nest. Envision the mother bird hanging on to the baby birds little leg it is flapping away to get free, the mother bird is me. It's pitiful.

I look at the pictures of last weekend and I am like, what the heck!?!?! She looks older. They all grew to fast this summer. I mean Ethan decided he was going to ride a pony and carnival rides, what is that about? I mean Jacob is sitting in a Bumbo, I will say it again, I can't believe it. They are adults now. Ok, so maybe not. But now am 100% convinced that with the good Lord willing, Jacob is not my last. I love babies. I love to smell them, cuddle them, watch them, its fascinating. Not that I am about to go and jump in the sack. I am no fool. We shall wait. Practice being chaste for a few years. Just kidding babe, we are not Trudie Styler and Sting, and I don't believe them anyway. But you know, get them all ready for the world, and then pop out another one that I can tremendously spoil because he or she is the last one.

But I am supposed to be talking about the summer, no wonder it went right by me, I am thinking about things other than the season.

So we were off to the Grange Fair. My kids love it. Kendall has this love for animals like I do. It's this deep sympathetic connection, that some people think is crazy as anything. We even think that this is cute:

I mean he us just so gross that he is cute because you feel bad for him, because no one really likes a pig, unless of course it is Wilbur from Charlotte's Web, but even he grows up to look like this. And we eat pork. ewww...they roll around in poop.
That people is a connection. I have yet to tell her that the meat she eats is from the animals she loves to see at the fair, this would shatter her world.

So we walk along taking in the smell of manure and funnel cake. We comment on the best in show, and get real up close with them...

(Why are my children staring at the camera like they are some scary Amish kids in horror movie, I don't know, this pic sends me those vibes, I had to share.)

Sometimes they got a little too close. Here is Mr. Goat just before he nipped Kendall's shirt, to which she replied, thankfully, 'that's just what goats do, they like to eat clothes.' With some nervous laugh I have never heard before.

Kendall sat and watched the sheep show. You get this girl near anything that resembles a beauty pageant and she will sit. I think she was probably sitting there thinking, so when is the formal wear segment coming?

We made her wait off any of the carnival rides until it was dark. It's more fun that way with all the lights, too bad kid. So we took a pony ride, and like every time, we ask E if he would want to do it. Low and behold, he said yes!I turned and said, 'Wait, What?!?, he said yes!?!?' I am so inclined to him saying, 'nah,' that the change almost sounded like he was speaking german. We could not believe it. And he did it with a smile on his face...my baby!

We then decided it was dark enough to do carnival rides, and again offer it up to E. And he said yes! Ethan went on carnival rides. He took the tickets from his Pop's hands and he went on rides. Who is this child and where is my sissy? Gone. I tell you. He is growing up and I can hardly stand it. He plays tee ball and he is good, he takes the bat and he throws it after he has hit the ball because that is what the 'guys,' do.