If you want to ensure that my children never do a specific trick ever again, try to get them to do it in front of a camera. Maria rolled over twice on Wednesday. Much, much memory has been spent filming the girl since then in the hope that she would do it again for posterity. No luck.
Kurt goes to therapy five mornings a week for about an hour and a half or so. The therapy center is across town, just far enough that it's not worth it to drive home and wait, especially given that Maria spends most of every car trip howling like she's being eaten. I generally drop him off, park the car, strap the girl to my chest and go wandering, either in the woods nearby or along the Gorge Waterway. (So, be sure to call the Mounties with that piece of info the day we don't come back…) This week, it finally occurred to me to snap some pictures of our route.
It really doesn't get any more different from my beachy Santa Barbara walks, but I guess it's growing on me.
Also, my prenatal yoga class had a reunion last month. It was astounding how much healthier and more comfortable everyone looked now that they aren't having the life sucked out of them by those parasites in their wombs. The parasites all turned out really cute, by the way. Maria is the one in the lower right hand corner, dressed in red and screaming her head off.