We’ve been re-doing the backyard all weekend (and when I say we, I mostly mean Joe). Pulling out weeds, moving rocks, pulling out eight dead cedar trees, filling in dirt and getting ready for the garden we promised the kid she would have.
The grass is dead in parts and Joe has had to mow it every weekend that we’ve been here. It grows and grows, just like the dandelions that have taken over the front yard. Meanwhile, the kid and I have been inside and I’ve seen the same episode of Stella and Sam many, many times, and Sam thinks he’s small but Stella tells him he’s growing like a weed.
And then I look at my kid.
Who is this kid?
She was a little baby and now she’s a little girl and I’m not entirely sure when that happened. She just keeps getting bigger and she speaks in sentences and she’s learning shapes and she recites the alphabet. Sometimes she says things that cause he father and I to look at each other and shake our heads – how does she remember this or know that?
This is two on the way to three.