How does your garden grow?

Following up on last year's Easter tradition (two years makes a tradition right?) Easter Bunny Aunt Susan brought the traditional tomato plants for some Easter planting.

We waited a week until the weather looked more reliable, and got the plants in the ground last Sunday.

And by ground, I mean planters...

Did I mention we are moving in June?  Ish?

Or before the baby comes?

Hopefully?

The tomato plants, they will be coming with us.

Easter photocatch up

We had a great time over Easter weekend... relaxed, did some egg hunting, playground playing, mezze eating, egg dying fun with Grandma Bookie.  Aunt Susan came into town with the traditional Miller family tomatoes (which we ended up planting today... stay tuned for photos from that later this week!)

Playground domination

We've entered the big leagues of playgrounding.

Having playdates organized by R's 5-6 year old classmates have taken us to a whole new level of outdoor adventuring.

Gone are the tot-lots and cute, safe plastic slides.

In are the rock climbing walls,  the 15 foot slide tunnels, and the rope bridge.

I don't think I have to tell you which one is the braver one...

But she's dragging her brother along.

When in doubt, Dad can rescue from said rope bridge.

Don't worry buddy, Mom doesn't love heights either.

Are they ready?

The question I get most often is... are they ready?

R was only 15 months when Annie arrived, so other than a little less laptime with Mama (which he wasn't really into anyways), her arrival barely dented his universe.

I'm preparing for full on dents with this one.

FULL ON.

Why?

They get it.  I think they actually get there's going to be a baby come the end of July.

Robbie is firmly convinced we are having a boy.  Has already named him (correctly, so he may have picked up on that from me), and does his best not to kick me in the stomach. 

He tries.

He's largely in casual indifference, and likely will remain there when the baby comes. Maybe?

However, Annie has, against my trying-to-avoid-all-gender-specific-anything- blazed full on into little Mama role.

She tucks her stuffed animals in.

Individually.

With their  own blanket.

And paci.

Did I mention  all over the floor?

Nightly?

We get a mighty "SHH, baby's sleeping" whenever we try to clean up.

But those of you who know Annie know she isn't known for her...subtlety. Or cautious, gentle approach.

But she's also firmly in "MY BABY" mode.

All babies under 6 months?  They are her babies.

She gets a vice grip and declares them as their own.

Case in point? 

Meeting Baby N, a two week old, who, while cute, is decidedly not our baby.

Annie?  She disagrees.

They may both be more ready than I.

*No babies were harmed during the taking of these pictures

Like Father like Son

I love airplanes - big ones, small ones - I always have. 

One of my fond memories as a child was going to the airport, any airport, but Charleston was generally my favorite to watch the planes takeoff and land.  This was something that I did with my Dad and it was always a fun time.  He knew most of the aircraft and would call them by name which I thought was a clear sign of my Father's brilliance.

It seems that the trait has carried through to Robbie.  He loves going to the airport but the real sign of his interest is that would rather watch a "plane spotting" video than Bernstein Bears or one of his other favorite videos.  I would be lying if I said this did not please me greatly - it most certainly does.

It has also come to my attention than Mommy and Annie are not nearly as enamored with aviation as Robbie and I - "plane spotting" videos are only allowed after they go to bed - their loss.

From this weekend's rainy Saturday activity:  a trip to the airport: