But, I will take one or two per month.
So here ya go, kids. Your summer memories in a handful of pictures. I realize other moms would have documented each of these monumental events with individual photo books, but I'm not other moms. I'm just your run-of-the-mill mom who cares less and less about documenting your entire lives in great detail. You'll just have to use your brains to conjure up actual memories. So, really, I'm doing you a favor. You're welcome.
VBS/Cousin Camp. You told me both of these things were awesome and I'm taking your word for it.
The Cavs won the National Championship. Bode, you went completely insane, running around ripping off your clothes and stuff. It was adorable.
Mia, you went to Camp JAM. When your counselor sent us this picture your father said, "Where's Mia?" and I was all, "She's that woman-child in the middle." And he was all, "OMG."
Then you did a service project with your Youth Group. That's right, I said Youth Group. I learned about all kinds of heathen activities in my own youth group so this new milestone terrifies me, but I'm going to be hovering around you and your friends like a hawk. I'm even willing to listen to your ridiculous music and act like I love it, I'm that serious.
And then there was Father's Day. Bode, during the obligatory Father's Day photo session you lovingly placed your hand right on your Father's cr0tch thus ruining the moment.
Sweet boy, you are learning lots of life lessons in basketball this summer. Most importantly is "Winning isn't everything." It's been humbling.
Because we are all amazing parents and want the absolute best for all of you, we decided that you needed to get the snot beat of you. So, we let, you, our tiny little 3rd graders whose combined weight is about a buck fifty, play 4th and 5th grade giants. We are all convinced it's making you better people.
And speaking of making you better people, we have played these bludgeoning matches in all kinds of fun and interesting Oklahoma towns that you aren't quite mature enough to fully appreciate. Case in point:
And how can we forget Missions Sunday, Your Fathers third child. You two were champs giving away the money you didn't earn and waving your flags. I couldn't have been more proud.
And finally, Wizard of OZ has taken over all of our lives. Mia, you are going to be dancing in ruby slippers that happen to have a one-inch heal, and you don't yet understand how miserable this is going to be. I think we all remember the devastating moment when we realized being a woman comes with injustices that men will never have to face. This, sweet child, will be your moment.
And perhaps the most important lesson you will learn all summer is this: Only in your dreams does the "yellow brick road" just appear out of nowhere. real life Dorothys have to (quite literally) make their own path.
And, Mia, you are doing just that.