The high temperature today is expected to be 73 degrees. Excuse me while I go do this:

Oh man, I am so freakin’ excited. I don’t even care that Moira’s given up any pretense of sleeping for more than two hours (that’s a whole separate post). The idea of being in toasty warm sunshine is just too delicious. So in the meantime I have some photos that help celebrate my joy.


Here we have a side-by-side comparison of my ladies and their fluff. Maggie’s the blonde in pink at 9 months and Moira’s the ginger-red in coral at 7 months. Clothing by Carters; hair by Donald Trump. Every time I see it I dissolve into helpless giggles.

Next, we have my summer babe:


Scraped knees, hair sticky with sunscreen and fresh homemade jam (oh yeah–we’re 20 jars into jamming with no end in sight), forearms coated in Mommy’s special hippie popsicles (tea, raw honey, splash of fresh-squeezed orange juice). It may average 55-60 degrees, but whenever I look at this child and her white-streaked hair and the golden undertones of her skin, I see endless summer.

Not to be outdone by her carnivorous parents and sister, Moira is tapping into her paternal grandmother’s German heritage:


Tom’s homemade spaetzle with a bit of parsley and sea salt, mixed with pork and black pepper sausage. The look of joy on her face when she realized she wasn’t being given yet another piece of fruit to gum could rival a Christmas morning where you find not only the My Little Pony Mansion but also A REAL GODDAMN PONY under the tree. She was that thrilled.

Moira is also pulling herself up to stand on anything and anyone that will support her, taking assisted steps while holding on to anything she can push, and recently retaliated against her sister’s theft of a toy by leaning back on her haunches and launching herself at Maggie in a flying tackle. The tackle caught Maggie around the waist and took her down like a sack of spuds. Now Maggie hides behind me when Moira, as friendly and lumbering and nibbly as the cutest puppy in the window, starts coming for her. Oh, boy, I can see there’s some violence on the horizon in this house.

Moira gets a lot of press for being snuggly and lovey, but don’t count Maggie out. Maggie’s favorite, favorite thing to ask is “Snuggle up on the couch with Mommy and read?” If that doesn’t melt your heart, you don’t have one. Truth.

Hug attack!

In “all about me” news, I cut off all my hair. I don’t feel like buying hair product because it all smells too harsh for me–all those artificial chemical smells give me a headache. So I’m styling it with beeswax/olive oil lip balm and I gave up on baking soda/vinegar washes because we have the hardest of hard water and after two months none of the residue would come out, no matter what I did. Anyway, Lush “American Cream” conditioner smells like clary sage and between that and the lip balm hair-hack it doesn’t look as ridiculous as you might think.


And holy GOD, I have enormous broad shoulders. Look at that! Like a linebacker! If you were wondering if we are having any more children, I would like to point out that the smallest of my girls was over eight pounds and they both inherited my upper body. So that’s “probably not.”

And finally, we celebrated the Fourth of July England-style: we didn’t really do anything until someone threw together a last-minute cookout and it was juuuuust warm enough for the girls to wear dresses without cardigans or tights. We clean up nice, eh?


That’s not A beard. That’s THE beard.

So happy summer, all! What are you up to these days?