They slept, lovely latte, jam

Oliver slept for 12 hours and Jack for just over 12½. Who thinks they needed it?! Sometimes you just have to call it a day. T was doing a project so we just kind of grazed for dinner, and I sat outside reading the paper and enjoying some red wine. A looovely evening that also included some Olympics watching. The men's swimming is so exciting- what incredible athletes- and go US gymnastics gals!!!

Look at my morning joe! Isn't T's latte art getting skilled?!

Off to finish up my second batch of plum-basil jam.

5:26p

In bed and quiet as can be.

TGIEvening

I'm seriously considering putting the boys to bed at 5:30p tonight. Although we've done a lot of fun things today, both are exhausted, and T and I are fried. In considering why we are thus, the best way to describe the past 11.5 hours is as a litany of inane arguments ("I want to hold the level"; "no, me!"), fatigue-related injuries ("I hate these chairs" as the angry response to running directly into one with his head and ear), subsequent tears/shrieks/desperate calls for ice packs only to give them back mere seconds later, and ludicrous demands minus any thanks. It is as if some horrible brat-monster has taken over the boys' minds; they look the same on the outside, and you keep wanting to just love them up, but they their brains urge them to say or do something totally unappealing, and you recoil as you might if a giant, ringworm-infected oaf was running towards you wanting a hug. Put a fork in me, I'm done.

I've got my first bunch of plums chopped and ready to go into the pot but this next thirty minutes might doom me to the couch for the rest of the evening. Blarg.