We got in a routine of walking/bike riding every morning, and you found a neighborhood cat, Sunny, that you just had to stop and see each and every loop. Sunny loves to be brushed but will randomly freak out and scratch and bite you, as any wonderful cat will do, but your love never wavers. You walk up to him with the same sweet voice each time certain he's so happy to see you. We started the summer, per usual, with swim lessons, and it's just my very favorite way to jump into the season with you. You get reminded of all the skills you have and quickly build new ones, and then your dad and I spend the rest of the summer in awe of your fish-like abilities. Your uncle Kevin taught you some pretty awesome jumps, and you couldn't wait for your swim teacher to give you the green light on the diving board so you could show off. Your preacher's seat will forever be my favorite. We had a week after swim lessons before we headed to Minnesota, and in the downtime, you started summer tee-ball with the Bears, and we headed north to Dallas to celebrate your uncle Kevin's 40th birthday. You love that guy so dang much and declared on the way up there that you were going to do a performance at his party. You had been hitting an Eminem song (no parental judgement needed) pretty hard and were just certain Kevin needed it sung at his party. The moment never grabbed you, but you lamented on the way home that you got too nervous and missed your chance. The world will never know, Charlie boy. Our annual trek up to Kavanaugh's was next on the list, and in a wonderful moment of luck, your dad was able to join us, and it absolutely made the week. You had wild dreams of going to Colorado and then to New York (thanks, Taylor Swift) right after we left Kavanaugh's, but you dealt with it all pretty well when we told you Minnesota would have to be our last family of three trip before June arrives. And well, Kavanaugh's just never disappoints. We swam and swam and swam, fished, tubed, and worked in some horseback riding - perhaps not my best decision at 8 months pregnant. You run yourself so ragged up there. It's just constant motion - your favorite kind. It's this gigantic cocoon of love and support and positivity and watching all of the cousins move around together this year was so sweet. Y'all are just the best little pack, and I hope all of these yearly trips cement in your minds and hold you close together always.
We came home just in time for the Fourth of July and spent the morning boating around with friends and the night watching your first firework show. You were so in awe of the colors, the sound, and of course, the finale. Why have we never committed to keeping you up late before? Right after the holiday, you took off for Dallas to spend some time with your Gigi, Pops, and Jake and Hudson. Your dad and I ducked away from reality for a little bit while you spent a long weekend doing pretty much whatever the heck you wanted. We finished out July with baseball - we went to your first professional baseball game; you sat there just enamored with the game, the between-innings fanfare, the food, and the $1 sodas. I think you'd go back every night. Your first season of summer (tee) ball ended soon after, and this season your coach nicknamed you Thor because he let you start using one of his bats called the Hammer, and you just kept crushing the ball. Your Poppy Jim, Marge, Jen, Matt, Madi, Jackson, Gaga, and Papa came out for your final game of the season which happened to be played on the swankiest astroTurf field, and at your first at-bat, you CRUSHED a HOMERUN! Holy moly. Jennifer and I cried and cried as you rounded the bases running your dang legs off. You were positively glowing, sweet boy. Just the best way to end the season. Three weeks of gymnastics drove us right into August, and you loved every minute of it. You're not the most limber little person, but what you lack in ability, you make up for in confidence and positivity. On the first day, as they were trying to place the 5-7 year olds in groups by ability, a coach asked you if you'd done gymnastics before, and when you enthusiastically replied, yes! he followed up asking if you could do a cartwheel and another YES! flew right out of your mouth, so he pointed you towards a group of much older kiddos. I cringed at the door. You did two weeks of gymnastics last summer, and there is no way in H-E-L-L you can do a proper cartwheel, but I let it play out. As soon as the groups broke up, the coach asked each of you to demonstrate your cartwheels. You watched all the other boys do their for-real-deal cartwheels and then stepped forward and confidently did a glorified donkey kick certain you had matched their skill set. The coach kindly pointed you over towards a group of your peers at the trampoline, and I really think you thought you got moved right up. I love your confidence. We cleared the calendar for the last two weeks of summer and concentrated on marking all the things off our summer list - swimming, waterslides, diving boards, trampoline parks (with "grip socks!"), waterparks, library stops, bagel dates, kickball...we did it all.
Before we knew it, it was time for Highland Park Rally Day, and while you were excited to start kindergarten after all the build-up, I still can't believe how quickly our 80 days of summer passed. Your dad and I will forever be grateful for this last chunk of time to enjoy all of you. You're the most delightful little human.
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