I love this family of mine.

Aaron recently figured out how to get on the roof of our house. It isn't very hard; we have a deck outside with posts up to a low, slanted part, and from there you just get on up. I mean, it's not something any of the other kids (or I) can do, but this is Aaron we're talking about. So he tells us and Grant goes out and spots him and lets him walk around feeling like king of the world for a few minutes and then stays close by while he gets down, which is still tricky and a little tedious. Grant also tells him to only do this with him, since he can catch him if he falls or help him down if he needs it.

Then yesterday afternoon, Grant was lying down with a migraine and Aaron asked me if he could go outside and get on the roof. I said he could when Daddy was up, but not by himself, and that it should only be awhile. Time passes. I hear thuds and thunks above my head. I sigh.

So I brought him in with the intent to stand him in the corner and then ground him for the next day, on the grounds that I can no longer trust him to obey my limits while outside. But when he gets in, we start talking, and I tell him, "Aaron, I know you have really incredible balance and climbing skills. We both know you are way better than most kids your age at getting on the roof. But everybody falls sometimes. You even fall sometimes. And that's high enough that if you fall, you're likely to break your arm. Or your neck. Someone has to at least be out there to KNOW you got hurt, so we can take care of you and get you to a hospital, you know? What if you fell off the roof and I didn't even know you were up there, and when it got dark I went to check on you and you were out there passed out from pain, lying with a broken arm?"

He meets me eye to eye looking suddenly distraught, to say, "I never thought of anything like that!"

And I was like, "I don't think you realize that most other parents wouldn't let their kids get up on the roof at all. But we understand you love doing stunts and you are super physical, and so we let you do almost anything you ask, as long as you let us keep you safe...like riding your bike down all those stairs in Boston with Daddy running alongside, or getting on the giant rollercoaster at Busch Gardens when you were only 6. We're willing to let you try almost anything as long as you let us keep you safe. You're not ready to know what's safe on your own yet".

As illustrated by the inches from hit by bus on bike incident from several months back that nearly killed ME. He agreed, and his punishment ended up being having to have the same talk with Daddy when he got up and no tag team trip to the roof like he would've had otherwise. Aaron is so easy to teach, so willing to HEAR, it's nuts.

Along with this sort of nonsense, I am also dealing with the neverending and hopeless search for a strapless training bra. I see tons of suitable looking things online - just tubes of white cotton with elastic along the top and bottom - but starting at 32 widths, if not 34. I have this daughter that wants to spend the whole summer in tank tops and sundresses who has a 28 chest, but is starting to look downright awkward and....jiggly, almost :x....with no bras. And she's HORRIFIED by the idea of anyone (gasp) SEEING HER BRA. This is a more pressing issue than it would be otherwise because of the near-daily jaunts into water play, be it rain or hose or sprinklers. We were at the zoo yesterday at one of the splash pads and it got pretty ridiculous, Grant and I were just looking at each other like, "Uh oh..." I feel bad for her even dealing with this sort of crap at nine. She doesn't care. It's not her fault she's almost 5 feet tall and is getting boobs all of a sudden, she just wants to play in the water.

SPEAKING of the zoo yesterday. I have oh so many pictures and I know you want to see! Some of them are kind of awesome.
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