I'm sorry I haven't been around as often. Shea's home for the summer. It requires some determination to wrestle the computer from him. On the bright side, Shea's on the computer, Atlee and Greeley are watching TV, and my house is a lot cleaner than usual.
Greeley turned two yesterday! The big discussion before hand was that two was pretty big. Two was soooo big it meant no more nursing. In the past, I always felt a certain nostalgia when I weaned a child. I wasn't quite sure if Rich and I would have more, and would this be the last child I nursed? Yeah. Not feeling that so much this time since I'll be nursing another in five months.
We celebrated Greeley's birthday with one of her favorite dinners: pasta, pesto, grilled chicken and garlic toast. However, dinner was just a prerequisite to the good stuff, her birthday cake. All day yesterday we got to hear about how it was her birthday and her birthday clearly meant birthday cake. After cake, we headed off to the Gettysburg Fireman's Carnival with Pete and Amy.
The ferris wheel was very impressive as we approached.
Atlee wanted to ride the ferris wheel and Rich asked if I wanted to go with her. Not thinking about it, I said sure. As we ascended, I remembered I am afraid of heights. I did manage to wrench my hand from the center pole long enough to take this picture of the carnival from above.
Atlee moved on to the flying bee ride. She loved it.
Greeley took a tour on the cars. She liked it at first, but then the cars went faster and faster and she didn't like it so much any more. There may have been some scared crying. What's a birthday without a little terror, right?
Uncle Pete bought both girls the giant lollipops that are the size of their heads. He also won the birthday girl a stuffed horse.
In the mean time, Shea managed to ride some rides with Uncle Pete. Then he found the game he wanted to play as the prize was a light saber.
Happy Birthday Greeley. And Happy Birthday to two people who share her birthday, Uncle John R. and Small Pines (formerly known as City Mouse.) Now, if you'll excuse me, there's an 8 year old hovering over me and breathing down my neck.