It's September. Let The Pumpkin Candle Burning Commence Immediately.

Here in the deep south we don't really consider September fall in as much as we're still wearing bathing suits and swimming. But those of us who love pumpkin candles DO consider it fall in as much as we're going to burn those suckers even if it is 400 degrees outside. Plus, they were selling small pumpkins at the farmer's market on Saturday. That was all the green light I needed.



First, I just want to say thank you to everyone who emailed me about my last post. You are some of the kindest ladies I could ever hope to "meet" out here in the blog land, and I appreciate you immensely. I'll be returning emails soon, but I wanted to give a big public thank you anyway.



So. Potty training. It's our world now. It's a new world for Jane, and a new world for us, especially considering we took her potty to a cookout with friends yesterday, and she took the initiative to go pee without prompting, was super proud of herself, and didn't bother to put her pants back on before streaking into the middle of the party to yell at Matt, "DADDY I PEE PEE." So there's that.



I still need to hem the new curtains in the dining room, but they're a lovely jersey fabric that hangs beautifully and doesn't fray, so I don't have the normal sense of urgency to hem them. This is bad. This means they could go unhemmed for some time. Because without a sense of urgency I just shrug, turn on Sharktopus on the SyFi channel and ignore my to do list.



I really do love September. The weather really does start to shift. And somehow it's all so much more fun with Jane. She notices everything. She notices "yewow leaves" and I can only imagine how stoked she'll be for Halloween. Life has changed folks. There are tutu skirts in the living room and a potty chair in the kitchen. There's a tiny wet bathing suit drying in the laundry room, and she insists on having her little toenails painted weekly when the polish starts to rub off. Saturday night I was reading her books before bed, and she reached out, patted my cheek and said, "I love you, mommy."



I cannot imagine what we ever did without her.



I cannot imagine what I did with all that time (although I can promise you I wasn't making good use of it).



I cannot imagine lighting a pumpkin candle without her following me around, sniffing the air, and saying, "Smell good mommy, smell good."



I cannot imagine a world without Jane in it.