First day - nothing to report, really.

So, the first day of school came and went without much fanfare. And then the first week came and went and I was like, "Oh yah, the blog." 

Once my youngest kid got past kindergarten I kind of stopped caring about all this back-to-school stuff. In fact, I think ours was the only car in the drop off line on the first day. These two walked to their classes all by themselves. I'm sure it scarred them for life. 

But, if it's any consolation, I did scribble a note on their napkins with a sharpie. And I did purchase Bode's only Lunchable for the year. The first day of school is the only day I will pay a stupid amount of money for ham that's cut into a circle, sorry kid. (but I will pay a ridiculous amount of money for coffee mixed with milk. Why? Because I'm the one with the job, that's why). Thankfully, my daughter is too much of a snob to touch a Lunchable, therefore, more coffee.

So, that's really it. First day of first and fourth grades. Great teachers, great school, Mia's first locker, Bode's first (of many) meltdown about having to "waste all of my time learning stuff when I should be playing basketball."

Life is rolling along. It's exhausting, but so, so blessed.

What Mia's room looks like and why I don't care.

This is what my daughter's room looks like all the time:

It's a friggin' disaster zone. But, it's her disaster zone and I do my best to never set foot in it. (Mostly, for fear that I might physically injure myself)

 But I will tell you, when Mia's room looks like this is when she is the happiest. Because it means she's in the {creative} zone. And when she's in the zone, she can't be stopped. Not for food, not for sleep, not for anything.

Ok, I will admit that the food, particularly the four-day-old crusted over fruit dip, is a little concerning.

 Well, and maybe the razor blade knife and hot glue gun are sending off a few alarm bells.

But, seriously, I have given up control of this. It isn't worth it. This girl lives in a different world than me. A world that I don't understand all that much about, except that she has to go there. And when she's not there, she doesn't feel normal.

This used to give me a panic attack, and if I look at it too long, it will make me curl into the fetal position, rock back and forth, and cry for my mother. But this is a room where all kinds of masterpieces are created, fanciful stories are written, sticks are turned into a miniature city for mice (who, for all I know, actually live in her room and feast on strawberries and ding dongs), little brothers are read to, and when the creative juices are all used up for the day, sleep comes very, very late into the night.

How do I love thee, Colorado? Let me count the ways.

 Catching raindrops in his mouth:

 Getting suited up for whitewater rafting. I refused to pay $43 for the picture of us actually rafting. Sorry, kids, you'll have to use your actual brains to conjure up the memories.

 Mia struggled with altitude sickness the first day. Bless it.

 Andy's butt:

 It was vacation afterall:

 Our Brazil travel buddies:

 Apparently, Denver was quite sunny:

 The hills are alive, with the sound of Lashleys and Knowles:

If I wasn't so lazy I would go back and find pictures of these two from the past five Colorado trips:

But I am, so this is all you get. But isn't it a lovely site?