The Trouble With Goodness

when I need to relax, I pick raspberries

I have spent the last few weeks furiously picking raspberries at the farm.  There is a TON.  This is great.  Well, except for one thing:

I have NOOOOO space left in my freezers.  Between the raspberries, the strawberries, the peaches, the potato-leek soup, the 8 salmon, the huge bags of Parmesan and mozzarella, the roasted peppers, the frozen pies, and the hundreds of tiny packages of carrots and squash and kale and kale and KALE, we can't receive any more food.  Which is too bad, because I'd keep picking those raspberries if I could.  I mean, they practically make up for the $500 class-fee for the farm, just by themselves.

Can you believe we still have strawberries?

In other exciting news, I am officially a Soccer Mom.  Well, at least, I am for the next 5 weeks.  Mr. C is taking a little once-a-week soccer-for-tots class.  He did it for a month last year, too.  It's absolutely adorable to watch.

just look at my adorable, faceless little boy!

The most pathetic thing about being a Soccer Mom is realizing how absolutely THRILLED I am over the fact that MY LITTLE BOY can balance with one foot on the soccer ball!  Call MENSA!! He's like a genius!!!

It is great to see how he's progressed since taking the course last year.  He follows directions better and can do little tricks (balancing with one foot on the ball!) better.  It's really fun to see.

Of course, after I've finished cheering for his big-boyness, I start crying that he's not my little baby anymore.  Pretty soon, he won't be in the "T" sizing of clothing anymore (2T, 4T); he'll be in "Small" with all the big kids.  Heck, he'll be in Kindergarten in less than a year.  I'm freaking out already!

Ugh.  In fact, I'm going to go quiver in a corner right now.