Woman Mowing

That’s me mowing my lawn this morning.

OK, it’s not really me. It’s hard to take a picture of yourself mowing. Imagine the scene above, except the yard is about three times bigger, the mower is a heavy cordless rechargable number, and there’s a two-year-old alternating between helping push and wanting to be held. Oh, and the woman mowing is wearing an old Tshirt, baggy knit shorts, and a handkerchief on her head instead of a cute hat. Other than that, it was just like the photo. (I actually tried to find a picture of a babe with giant tatas mowing in a bikini and heels, but couldn’t find one.)

I’ve never mowed the whole lawn before. Randy set the mower out for me before he left for work and asked if I’d mind giving it a try. And that, ladies and gentlemen, is how much I love him.

Of course, I still haven’t mowed the whole lawn. Part of our lawn is really steep hill, and I have no desire to die a horrible death as the mower slowly hacks through my limbs after I tumble down the hill and land with the mower on top of me. Plus, I can’t mow anything outside the fence without the risk that Wally will capitalize on the three seconds I’m not watching him and sprint into the street, giggling and saying “‘mon, mom!! ‘Mon!!”

Mama Cleaning, a Portrait by Wally

I thought this was a remarkable picture from a 2 year old. Wally’s obviously destined for photographic greatness. Here I am, sweeping off the basement stairs while Wally snaps photos of the event.

He also took this self-portrait.

Coloring

Wally loves to write and draw. In this photo from this morning, he’s using one of my paint markers to write some letters. He would make a little scribble or a little line, gaze at it for a moment, and say “K!” or “L!” or “O!”

It’s such an amazing thing, watching a small child slowly make sense of his world.