My kid and I have this daily tradition of going out to the side yard to push the tree swing and look for potato bugs (or "ats" as he calls them, because all bugs are ants right now). He's usually not wearing pants when we do this; I usually haven't changed out of pajamas yet. Our street is pretty quiet, but we get a smattering of cars driving by, and I always wonder what they think if they notice us. Some people are the kind to think it's totally normal, I'm sure, and others probably wouldn't be caught dead outside in pajamas with a half-naked baby -- how inappropriate! I'm in the it's-totally-normal camp, though. Not just normal -- really nice, really safe and cozy.
I took this picture of baby boy during a playtime earlier this week. Somehow I just knew right away, as soon as I looked at it, that this was a perfect likeness not just of this exact second in time, but of this season of my life. Unpolished, unfinished, dusty, and true. A pleasant, cloudy day on unmowed grass with a toddler in a diaper.
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