If the shoe fits...

Yes, Cinderella, of course you may go to the ball.

As soon as you complete ALL of your housework.

Overachiever much?

All it took was one lunchtime pep talk from me and Outdoor Dog, and she was sold. A mere 48 hours later, my boss, Lori, is a blogger extraordinaire. Not only has she created a blog ("It's Lori's World," and people, it truly is) but she's also posted like FIVE times, learned to crop photos and is about to go purchase a new digital camera. This is the blog to watch, and I don't mean that in a Dwight Schrute kinda way.

Rain, rain, don't go away

I know that some of you out there might consider this to be the worst summer in memory, what with all this rain, but in my estimation, that's what makes this the best summer in memory.

I love rain! I can't get enough of it. I like the way the sky gets dark and moody. I love the way it smells. I love the way it cools off a burning hot summer day. A few years ago, when we were deciding when to take our trip to England, I suggested July. And it worked out perfectly. While it was 105 and hotter than Hades here, it was 75 and raining every day in London. Heaven!

I wasn't even upset when it rained on the Fourth of July. I just sat on my front porch soaking it in. Lexi helped. "I love rain!" I told her just as Aunt Jaime shot this picture. "ME TOO!" she replied. "I'M TAKING A SHOWER!"

First fireworks

Couldn't end my prolific posting day without a couple more pictures from the Fourth. I tried to add three or four more than this, even, but became very impatient with my kind host, blogger.com.

The kids got their first fireworks show last night, which consisted of $25 worth of harmless stuff mom and I found at the tent at Dillons. We're talking roosters that shot sparks, cars that shot sparks, teapots that shot sparks, tanks that shot sparks, and a few decent fountains. Oh, and smoke bombs. We loved the smoke bombs. Here are the fireworks fans lined up and ready for action.

Unfortunately, Lexi inherited her mommy's distaste for loud noises. I remember taking this very pose every morning in kindergarten, petrified that the school bell was going to catch me off guard. Thanks to Uncles Peter and Carter for risking their fingers and faces for our viewing pleasure.

Joe! Joe! Jooooooeeeee!!!

Lexi's personal hero, cousin Joe, came to visit for the Fourth of July. She loves this kid and always has, even deciding to appear three weeks before her due date just so they could share a birthday. Joe had to leave before she woke up on Thursday morning. The first question she asked me upon opening her eyes was "Where's Joe?" When she got the bad news, she wailed. Here are a few pics:

Joe is the one in the middle. Lexi loves Joe's bro "Baby Jack," too, but he's usually too busy cheesin' to get real involved.

Here's an example of Joe's charming nature. Lexi was a little nervous about he fountains at the park, but Joe's extra year of life experience helped him show her the way.

It's good to have friends . . . with cute clothes

It started shortly after Lexi was born. Rachel's mom, Julie, showed up one day with Dillards bags stuffed full of baby clothes -- dresses, pants, shorts, jammies, swimsuits. You name it, these Dillards bags had it.

Ever since then, Julie has reliably delivered another bag every few months. Some of Lexi's most fabulous fashion statements have come from the generosity of Rachel's wardrobe. Including this little number, which Lexi proudly refers to as "my pretty dress."

We've also received a bunch of cute stuff from Lexi's other big girl friend, Maddy, whose closet has always contained the height of toddler fashion.

We try to return the favor by passing the clothes on to other friends, like Gabby, when we're done with them. But some of them are so cute, it's hard to part with them.

Thanks Rachel and Maddy! Hand-me-downs rock.

Narrowly avoided pre-Fourth fireworks

So this morning, I went to fill up at the QT at Washington and Douglas (always an adventure), and I could barely believe what transpired.

As I pumped gas, I noticed that the guy at the pump right across from me was filling up his old pickup truck WITH THE ENGINE RUNNING WHILE SMOKING A CIGARETTE. Panicked, I checked the posted signage and confirmed that no, neither of those activities is advised at a FRIGGIN GAS STATION.

The horror of the moment was still registering when suddenly, (I sh*t you not) someone lit some firecrackers in the parking lot.

And then the guy smoking and pumping started ranting about how much he hates fireworks.

Ah, Douglas and Washington. I got out of there fast.

I've got some photos and updates from our trip to Texas coming very soon. I just have to find time to sit down and post them.