This afternoon I was using the time during the baby's nap to take a self-portrait for my Elements of Design class. I had this nightgown, which was actually my wedding nightgown, on. But then Fiona joined me, gushed how beautiful it was, and promptly insisted that I take it off so she could put it on. Then she commandeered my photography project, jumping from the head of my bed over and over again while I sat at the foot and took pictures. After each round, she would come and look at what we got, on the back of the camera, then try again until they were perfect. It wasn't the photo I was planning on getting done while the baby slept, but I love it when my girls want to collaborate on a project, so it is pretty perfect to me.

Every year in the fall we make at least one trip to Three Cedars. They have animals in a petting zoo, a wooden train that kids play on, a corn box (like a sandbox but with corn), great cider and donuts, and my favorite: the cider slushy. This was your first trip there as a kid that actually gets to play, Liam, because last year you were just a bundle in a baby carrier. It had rained, but it was warm. Your favorite thing there were these tractors. I can already imagine you and I making the trip there next fall, just the two of us because all of the big sisters will be in school.

Although learning to ride a bike is one of those things that pretty much everyone does, it still felt mystifying to me. At the beginning of this summer, neither of you girls were riding on your own, still. Seven felt a bit old, and you were heavy enough that when I tried to help you, it was really hard for me to catch you if you tipped. So it was your dad's job. I joked with him this spring that there are classes for this now, you can outsource it. He scoffed, said there was no way he was paying someone to teach his kids to ride, this is what Dads do. So I watched you guys learn all summer, in bits and pieces when you felt brave. Sure enough, now you can both ride. This was the day that Rowan really took off, riding in big circles in a parking lot, learning to take off and stop. What a glorious day for it.

I hope you always know how lucky you are to have each other. In my mind, I imagine this picture in a frame somewhere...your dorm rooms? In a frame that your own kids pick up and point to each one, naming their aunts?

For the first year after Liam was born, I took pictures of all four kids in a chair on the 10th of every month. I decided this month it was time to shake the series up, and just take a picture of you all, regardless of where it was. So I took you to the park across the street and lined you all up. Yes, I got an okay picture of all of you. But this is the one I ended up loving instead. Three sisters lined up and ready, and when Daddy walks the baby in to join you...this is what he sees. I can't tell you how much I love to see you love each other.

We rarely play board games. It seems every time you guys get one, pieces are lost before you ever manage to finish a game. This old box with the Twister game came from your grandparents' house when they moved to Cleveland and gave us stuff they didn't have room for. It has sat there since, but today Fiona opened it. This led to another aspect of how you play board games: you are not really interested in me teaching you how to play them. You prefer to make up your own rules. So this is your game of Twister, one person spinning and telling the other person what to do next, like it's a series of moves rather than having to do each move at the same time. It's a bit less twisty that way, but you all still seemed to enjoy it.

Sometimes we get to school early for pickup, and the day is so beautiful that sitting in the car seems like a waste. Fiona and you both want to move. Fiona wants to pretend she goes to school, too, and play on the playground with the big kids. And you want to practice walking and pick up leaves. Today we did that, and I got to talk to Sarah while you played. It's new this year, having Sarah be part of our school experience, too. Not that it makes any difference to you, of course. She's been part of your village since the day you were born, so she's just family to you. May it ever be so.