Never ground a toddler

Well, the 2 year olds weren't actually grounded, but we were all incarcerated by the Pacific Northwest weather for MONTHS. The rain beat against the windows like it wanted to come in and play. Salmon Creek overran it's banks. Our Grammy Camp playground was being taken over by moss and mold. But guesswhat? I've never seen sunshine as bright as the animated faces of 2-year olds running through the rain and in my front door.

The house is still standing, I'm happy to report. But I'm convinced that if God had seen the inside of this place after the kids left each time, He would have done something about the weather.

So what did we do on all those dark days?


Jude went nuts with the markers



We built structures so we could huff and puff and blow the house
down



We perfected our golf game


Brady made a few notes on possible escape routes



Jude remodeled the living room, creating his own campsite out of the couch


We started a little band.

The garage was converted into added playspace which allowed for tricycle riding, big box forts, cracking walnuts with little hammers, and playing with mountains of beans. The beans one day disappeared, we never could find them again. Hmmm....

And while the toddlers were wreaking havoc look what happened to the babies:


Ada turned 1 year old


And Drew turned into a real boy:

And then, as if wishes really can come true, the daffodil festival came to my yard. I have millions of them and have never planted one. Each year they multiply and now show up clear to the bottom of the bank, a sizeable drop, I might add. I like to reject the idea that my backyard is eroding and someday this house will be down there with the daffys.



And the tulips (my favorite) standing so straight and tall and strong no matter how the elements beat them up


AND check out the iris! They look like floppy little hats worn at the royal wedding

Oh, the sweet smell of soil and mowed grass.  Even the rain smells good when we haven't seen it for a day or two.  So all is not for naught when the sun comes out and shines on our pale faces.  Northwesterners don't typically discuss the months of unrelenting rain in the winter, but one does start to notice a definite pissiness in the general population around the middle of May.  And although we still run for cover from the errant spring storm, there's an uplifting feel to the air and the mood -