May flowers

I feel like I need to post something so you all know I'm not dead. Well, I'm not and we're not, we're just busy. You know how that goes, your life takes a detour (in a good way) and you just don't have the time you used to have. Greg is giving a giant HAH! at that last statement and he's not even the slightest bit amused.

Regardless, we're all fine. Julia is sleepwalking a bit. That's an interesting new development. Still no thumb sucking though, so I don't mind the tradeoff. Her future orthodontist probably wishes she'd keep it up but she really seems to have kicked the habit without too much trouble.

Allie has been stressing over learning the 50 state capitals. I told her frankly that her daddy and I never had to learn the state capitals and couldn't probably name half of them--especially the ones that aren't in the biggest cities in the state. I mean seriously, who knew the capital of Nevada is Carson City. Carson City? It's pretty funny listening to Allie try to pronounce Baton Rouge though. Between that and Des Moines--- Hey, it doesn't take much to get a laugh in our household.

The title of this post reminds me of my wonderful grandma Martha, god rest her soul. She and my grandpa retired on a wooded five-acre lot and one of her greatest pleasures of spring was picking what we called May flowers every May. Delicate and pretty. I miss her. It makes me sad that my girls never knew her or my grandpa Elmer. Now there's a couple for you--Elmer and Martha. Aren't old names great?

And so life goes on.