Millions of peaches, peaches for free

Does anyone else remember that song? Or maybe I'm the only one who sings it every summer in July when I have peach juice running down my chin.

Our new house has a peach tree. L picked one a day for about a week to taste, "for science," he said. He decided last weekend they were ripe, so we picked them! The picture doesn't do justice to how many there are. They're little, but they are yummy. And free, did I mention free? Well, free with this little thing we call a mortgage.

My freezer is full of peeled, sliced peaches. I'll be accepting your best peach-thing recipes anytime!

Swimming with pride

I signed both girls up for swim lessons this summer for the first time. I wanted them to learn to swim without having me in the water, because I thought they might do better if it wasn't Mama telling them what to do. Turns out, I was probably correct in that assumption.

What I didn't factor in with the lessons was how quickly they would make progress -- and how freakin' exciting it is when they do! I have never felt so proud as I have behind the glass walls (we went to an indoor pool so as to avoid the bad weather factor), watching them do things for their teachers they would never do for L and me. I've practically jumped up and down a few times.

When we started lessons, they liked to be in the water, but only from the neck down. Two days into lessons, Jellybean was voluntarily dunking herself and has announced that she loves going under water now. And little Peanut, who I thought may be a tad too young to really do anything, actually floated on her back by herself -- a skill that is 2 levels beyond where she is! (Mind you, she's still working on putting her face in the water. And Jellybean wants nothing to do with floating.)

It went so well, and I've been so thrilled with their progress, I've signed them up for another session. I can't wait to see what they'll do next!

7 colors a week

Peanut can tell you what color every day of the week is. Monday is green, Tuesday is blue, Sunday is her favorite color, orange. Each day has a different color.

No, she's not reading auras or anything supernatural. She's talking about her underwear. Once she was potty-trained a few months ago, I took her shopping to choose her own undies. Much to my disappointment at the time, she chose the day-of-the-week undies; each pair has a different day of the week printed on it. My first thought was, "Great, now this falls on ME to get the right pair on her each day." It's hard enough for me to remember what day it is. Now I have to coordinate undies too?! Then I remembered she can't read. Perfect.

It turns out I'm too anal retentive (love that potty-training double entendre) to ignore the writing on the undies. So, I made sure she had the right undies on the right days from the get-go. And Peanut still loves it. Before she had the colors memorized, she would ask at bedtime, "What color is tomorrow?" When you're 3, it's important to know the color of your undies at all times.

So, in the words of Peanut, "What color is today?"

This number has changed

Both girls have celebrated birthdays during my time off from blogging -- birthday parties were yet another thing in the mix of all of our major life changes. Peanut, turning 3, had a musical party that involved drumming, guitar playing and even a duet with her sister. Her party happened before we left Michigan, so it was a nice way to say "goodbye" to our friends there.

Jellybean's 5th birthday was after we moved, so she benefited from all the extra grandparent attention at her birthday. Extra presents, treats and attention helped distract her from missing all her good buddies in Michigan.

Peanut had a great time at her party, but as much as anything, she was thrilled to be "changing numbers" from 2 to 3. Her party was before her actual birthday, but she announced that she was 3, and she could hardly wait for Jellybean's party so that Jellybean could change numbers too.

I've decided I quite like this euphemism for getting a year older. Changing my number. Sounds like I'm in charge of the whole process. And it has an air of diplomacy, like the difference between "global warming" and "climate change." I am changing my number this week, and darned if my 3-year-old hasn't given me the words to ease the sting of adding a year to my age.

Resurfacing

Whenever I'm trying to make a point about something, whether to L or my kids or even my friends, I like to follow L's rule requiring three reasons behind any argument. You can't just say something is true -- you have to list 3 justifications that it is true.

It just so happens that I have three definitions for the title of this post.

1. Resurfacing: returning from the depths of the unknown. I haven't written for months and months. The past month, I really regret, because it was a bit of blogaphobia on my part, but mostly just a lack of time to sit with the computer in peace. The previous few months were full of big life changes: putting our house on the market, planning a move to another state, looking for a new home and moving. Lucky, lucky us, even in a dismal Michigan real estate market, we sold our house on Craigslist (yes, really) in less than three weeks. But the latter three life changes all ended up being more complicated than they needed to be, for reasons not worth boring you with. Which brings me to...

2. Resurfacing: changing the composition of the top layer(s) of an existing surface. We have done a great deal of this type of resurfacing to our new home. We started with pulling up all the carpet on the steps and second floor of our home and having the original (1910) hardwood floors finished for the first time. Then, we -- mostly L, with help from a contractor for the complicated stuff -- repainted almost every interior surface, wall and ceiling, in the house. Other projects too, but you get the idea. It's all behind us, and now we're ready for what lies ahead...

3. Resurfacing: removing layers and replacing them with completely new contents. For the first time since Jellybean was 1 (and now she's 5! Another post for another day), we live close to our families. We loved Michigan and had wonderful friends and neighbors there, but there is nothing quite like living near family, especially when that family includes my children's grandparents. It has been a happy time, reuniting on a regular basis and knowing this is how our lives will be. There's no place like home.