You’ve heard about how superior French mothers are, right? Well I’m addressing that over at World Moms Blog. Just how superior they all are, and how superior I am by association.
Okay, joking aside, I do have a few pictures to show you, even though I’m sending you over here to read what I wrote. I’m hoping you won’t mind getting the double whammy of two posts in one. (Since it’s just pictures and all).
Well I know my folks’ll appreciate ‘em anyway.
The prunus trees are blossoming all along the street.
Petit Prince has started to say "rigole, rigole" (joking, joking).
I lost a tooth. Two, actually. Swallowed 'em.
Young Knight in multi-sports. We think there might be a future in rugby. He likes to tackle.
Petit Prince is too young for multi-sports and has to be dragged out kicking and screaming each week. Without fail.
The sun on these sweet-smelling things, whatever they are again.
The sun on this sweet-smelling thing too. Hey soul sista!
Talking about the minute of silence for the shooting at the Jewish school.
I go out.
I go in.
And this is FIRST-year solfège (music theory).
The sun, oh the sun … lighting up my days.
Sir in work boots. (Thumpity-thump go his boots. And my heart).
I am seriously hard at work here. With my shoes on the wrong foot.
Baked cauliflower and potato purée. Kids are not fooled by the heart shape.
You know, sometimes everything – just everything is perfect in the world.
“He seldom reflects on the days of his life, because God keeps him occupied with gladness of heart.”