Are we going to pay for this?

We have had a stretch of pretty phenomenal weather lately. I am not exactly sure what happened to spring, or winter really, but I am not complaining. This means we have been able to get out of the house a lot. The evenings are so much easier to handle when you can spend the better part of them outside. I took Ella and Clayton on a walking elementary school playground tour on Saturday while Mya and Bernie washed cars. After the first stop they were still going strong and we still had an hour before naptime so I thought we would see if the next school was an easy enough walk. And it was, even with Ella prancing behind for nearly the whole distance pointing out dandelions. Come on Ella, let's go. A little faster now. The play structure at the second school made me a bit more nervous especially after we scaled up to the top of the giant twisty slide only to have Ella crawl into a huge puddle at the top that I couldn't figure out how to get us all over without getting soaked. So we crawled (and one of us dripped) back down in reverse with Clayton repeating 'Ella uck' at about every step. We might save that playground for next summer unless we can do a little man to man defeanse. I must say I have been pleasantly surprised at the number of adaptive swings I have found at the playgrounds lately and I have been making mental notes for this summer's adventures.

To celebrate the 75 degree sunshine today, we went ice skating. Makes sense, right? We had a lot of fun, even if it took longer to get out the door than we actually spent on the ice. One of Mya's groups had the rink and it was an anything goes to get the kids on the ice kind of event so the wagon made its rounds. Next year I look forward to throwing Ella and Clayton into some skates but the wagon seemed a decent enough hit. Not nearly as big of a hit as when we found the snack room, but we understand the workings of the 2 year old mind.

How old are you Clayton? TWWOO! Working on that one.

Miss Mya holding the coats. She was a bit chilly.

My peeps.

The one lap I managed to pull the wagon before
flagging down one of the volunteers.