The Weekly Wrap-Up

I haven't blogged in a couple days. Sue me. It just gets busy sometimes. Kinda makes me long for the days of semi-retirement. Kinda.

So here's the weekly wrap-up from Growing Up Kaitlyn. In Pictures!

Official league sign-ups start at age 3. 

Let me give you a little more detail on this. You all know I want her to be a golfer -- plenty of scholarship opportunities, it's a sport where women can actually make a real-life wage, travel the world. But she's taken a ridiculous liking to kicking things, especially balls. Just like her mother. And it's a heck of a lot cheaper to register for soccer than buy golf clubs. So next year, we'll be spending plenty of time on the soccer fields.

Waiting for the fireworks to begin. 

You know how most fireworks displays are placed to music and they shoot off two or three shells at a time, with different colors and patterns to catch your eye? The Northeast Park fireworks "display" was more like the two drunks down the street who drive to South Carolina to buy fireworks illegal in North Carolina and only have one cannon. They shot off one firework at a time. For over an hour. And they ran out of music halfway through, or the DJ packed up because he said to himself, Damn this is long. And the end result: A long line out at 11 p.m. (we got there at, like, 6:30 p.m.) and this:

Moving on ...

Fun with Lily at Rob & Emily's Fourth of July BBQ

SuperKaitlyn

So she's been acting a little crazy lately. She likes to tie a dish towel around her neck (the hair tie is a must-have accessory on her cape, as well) and run back and forth through the kitchen and living room screaming "Super Baby" or "Super Kaitlyn" (depending on her mood). Like I said, a little crazy.

Partners in crime

Thanks to the near-100 degree days throughout the East Coast, we've been spending a lot of time post-dinner at the pool. This is Evan. He lives up the street. He is Kaitlyn's partner in crime not only in the neighborhood, but also at daycare. He rules the four-year-olds, while Kaitlyn commands the younger ones. It's almost like a mini-Mafia. Just substitute juice boxes and pop tarts for cocaine and bookies.

Making mini pizza. Yum.

Why am I showing you a picture of Kaitlyn making mini-pizza? For one, because anything she does is just friggin' cute and shows off her tremendous intelligence. But more importantly -- it represents our ability to cook at home for an entire week; no take-out, no restaurants. Go us.

In case you want some more frequent updates on the happenings of Growing Up Kaitlyn, I suggest you start checking those Twitter posts (psst: you don't even have to go to Twitter; there's a little update box on the right side of the blog). And finally, see if you can find Kaitlyn: