It happens every year, without fail. In July and August, I basically wear two outfits and hardly take any pictures. It’s summer, it’s hot, school is out, and we’re busy just doing things. We’ve done tons in July.

I tried to make the most of July because August always feels like one long Sunday; it’s just a time of waiting for school to start and everyone to go back to the grind. But in July we picked fruit and made jam and saw dinosaurs and model railways and cowboys (more on that last one later).¬†We played in the backyard and got messy.

I started going to Zumba at the beginning of the summer, and I love it. In July I took up yoga after a very brief love affair with it a few years ago. Everything hurts and I get flashbacks to my failed gymnastics days in elementary school. But I’m still going.

I hope August is full of good stuff, because so far this has been a splendid summer. The best I’ve had with H yet. I think it’s the age. Three is tough, but it is so stinking fun. She can do more things, and the memories we make feel like a more permanent impression on her. It’s the coolest. So, I’m not stressing about the lack of variety in clothes last month.