The girls of summer

It's now a few weeks into summer break, and we're into a routine of sorts. Marissa gets to go to camp or school of some type for most of the summer. The very last couple of weeks she doesn't, and we'll all go on a road trip. (And you KNOW that will be plenty of fodder for my blog.) Cami has preschool "camp" on Tuesdays and Thursdays, and on Thursdays they have water day. Brianna has nothing going on this summer. She's old enough to help out with the baby and to talk on the phone with friends and email and listen to her MP3 player. And occasionally say that she's bored. I think she's smart enough not to say that very much. She'd like to take pottery lessons, which they do at a ceramics store here, but a) that costs money, a pretty good little chunk per lesson, and b) I haven't gotten around to even thinking about really doing it, money notwithstanding. She's mainly eager for school to start. She gets to go to a Catholic private school this year and is very excited. She's already compiled the supply list and has gathered up what she has already and talked to me several times about what she yet needs. And it's only mid-June. Needless to say, I have told her that as much as I appreciate her eagerness, it doesn't rank quite as high on my list of priorities as it does hers. Which means we'll worry about supplies in about 6 weeks. In the meantime, I've got smaller fishies to fry all over the place. Fishies that cry and whine and want stuff all the time.
I have gotten into somewhat of a routine for going to the YMCA and doing my cardio and yoga and getting my book page done at the newspaper once a week, but yesterday I threw a wrench into that by jamming my big toe quite hard. It zings with pain if I brush it against anything, even the sheet on the bed. Even if it's broken, there's nothing to do but wait. And "rest." Ha ha ha ha ha. I can feel the fat creeping onto my hips as I sit, when I DO sit, and I am hoping it heals speedy-quick, as Junie B. would say. (If you haven't read Junie B., you really must. It's hilarious.)
I am hoping/waiting for something profound or profoundly witty to spring forth from my inner muses, but nothing so far. So enjoy the post and know that Charlotte is 7 weeks old now (as of yesterday) and who knows how heavy. She was 9 pounds 10 ounces 2 weeks ago. Her brand-new, tiny infancy is becoming only a memory that makes me nostalgic even now.