This is the end of the innocence.

Mia rocked her last week of elementary school. She won another art show, got outstanding 5th grade band student, was the hit of the invention fair, and found out she gets to play Dorothy this summer in the Wizard of Oz. Not a bad way to go out. 

Unfortunately for her, she has middle school to look forward to. She doesn't yet know that middle school is the living worst. Fortunately, she doesn't have to change schools. Unfortunately, middle school will always be middle school.

For the most part, she's still a sweet little elementary kid. However, after two days of being home with me for summer break she declared it a "total fail" so she's starting to get there. 

For now, I will savor these sweet pictures of the end of life as we know it:

 Leave it to Mia to figure out how to never have to taste a vegetable again. Carbs are more her speed. (She once asked for fettuccini alfredo with a side of mashed potatoes for her birthday dinner.)

 Her sweet friend, Ava.

 She got to perform in a little Wizard preview last weekend. It was perfection.

In middle school I was exactly the same height I am today (so, basically, a 12-year-old behemoth) and was convinced that Kurt Cobain was the only person that understood me. Anything is better than that.

This kid is actually saving me money

It's kind of awesome when your kid can create gifts for people so you don't have to buy them. I plan to use her artistic abilities for my own personal gain for a very long time. 

Mia created these quirky little sketches for my nephew's nursery:

 I do not understand how she thinks of this stuff. 

And she didn't copy any of it - she just created it out of the clear blue. 

And I love that these have a little bit of humor in them. Look at that one eyebrow up:

 Weston's all, "I guess they'll do." 

Marathons and children will be the death of me.

Being a runner is a lot like being a parent: It takes up all of your time, you sometimes hate it but you would never admit that to anyone, and once you get yourself into it there is really no way out. In both cases you are filthy and smelly all the time and there is no point in wearing makeup. And every mother knows that the bonus is that you get to live in active wear!

Much like raising kids, some days are good and some days are bad. And there is no great way to predict which kind of day it's going to be. Running, like parenting, morphs you into a person that your friends kind of appreciate, but mostly just don't understand. Basically, you're a freak.  

And here is proof that some races are better than others:

Check out last year's race photo...:

 ...compared with this years:

This is the face of a person who has wished death on herself.

And, sort of like childbirth, it's not too long before you forget about the pain and are ready to do it all over again.