Halloween(ies)...

Mummy Dogs - Check

Pumpkins - Check

Spider Jello - Check

Candy Corn Infused Rice Crispie Treats - Check

Sunny Skies (Holy Mother Nature - Way to Shut up and Put up) - Check

Three Adorable Little Monsters - Check, Check, Check...

I do like me a holiday.  Who doesn't?  So we served up the traditional goods and dressed up and trick-or-treated like our lives depended on it.... until some lovely neighbor served up a Ring Pop and then it was all over.  I mean, really, what else does one even need in life?  No complaints from RyGar and me... if after eight houses it's a wrap - it's a wrap.
No harm, no foul.  :)

I will always remember that Halloween 2012 delivered one of life's great ironies.... seventy plus degree weather when, of course, I bought costumes that doubled as snow suits.  

Ah well... our little crew totally rocked it... saying "Trick or Treat!" followed quickly by "CANDY!  CANDY!" with meek little, "Thank Yous" because we'd practiced our little schtick ad nauseam leading up to the big day.

And oh, sweet sugar induced bedtime.  You know, when they are so ridiculously over stimulated and coming down from their sugar highs and pretty much you're counting down the seconds until their sweet little noggins hit the pillow?  And then as soon as it's all over you sit on the couch and giggle with your lova about all the antics of those cute little balls of fire you're so ridiculously proud of it hurts.

And THAT is Halloween - Check.

P.S.  I am counting these two photos of our three monsters as a complete victory.  I get it - no one is looking at the camera and everyone is blurry, but they are sitting in costume on the porch surrounded by pumpkins.  
Case closed.

Just a few Little Letters...

O.C.D.

Yep, we may have a mild case, me and Kaelster.

Is it bad to say that my heart swelled with pride to find my biggest little sorting by size and lining up his cars like a champ?

'Cause it totally did.

Way to go little obsessive man of ours.  Keep up the good work.  :)

Heinous...

That's what the other morning was.  H-E-I-N-O-U-S.  Good "Lawd have Mer-SAY" on me.

I woke up hell bent to clean all the bathrooms in the house and to "go deep"... I'm talking, cold air returns, baseboards, the toilet paper holders where the little fluff from the TP gathers, you know?  You name it, I was going to be able to see my reflection in the water of those porcelain fixtures and be grinning from ear-to-ear somewhat high on Lysol fumes.

So... I did what every awesome mother does.  I prepped juice cups and snack bags and started The Letter Factory DVD for the littles up in the play room and shut the gate.  And I ran back down the stairs to begin scrubbing.

Do take note that Acey has climbed higher than any baby his age should evah climb...

 I'm doomed with that little mountain goat, I tell you.

Turns out, my little geniuses have LOTS of brains in those heads and six little feet in their shoes and they were determined to steer themselves in the very direction they choosed.  (Go with that grammatical error for the sake of the rhyme, Okey Dokey?)  After they had scattered the entire contents of the play room from Hell to Breakfast, those little smarty pants' stacked chairs atop tractors atop who knows what else and heisted one another over the gate and off to have a bro par-TAY.  

On the party agenda was, almost entirely emptying the meat freezer downstairs just for kicks.  Then emptying all wipes from the Clorox Wipes canisters in the cleaning supply closet... yep, all three of them.  Then nearly flooding the kitchen as they used the wicked cool faucet in spray mode to make it rain as they sung the "Raindrops Song" and giggled like hyenas... which ultimately was their demise and Acey's mid-day shower.  I do believe I've mentioned that Kaelster has one laugh volume...
Freakin' LOUD.

When I came running in to the kitchen to see what in the world was so funny and who and how they had clambered down from their little play room prison of sorts.... I nearly died.  And my scavenger hunt to discover what other little stunts they pulled was kick started by a clue I got from Ace a' Spades in the form of him gnawing on a pack of frozen venison courtesy of the freezer fiasco.

Hence, I spent the next block of time cleaning up what was the aftermath of my initial cleaning mission.    I do believe I then texted RyGar and a few friends that would totally know the feeling and I asked each of them to please, "Kill me now," or something equally dramatic.

Why does five minutes of unsupervised time equal a house destroyed?  Why?  WHY?!

Perhaps to remind me that perfect is boring.  Perhaps to remind me that for TEN years of my life I prayed for a little Dennis the Menace or three that would have mischief in his eyes and would keep me entertained and on my toes.  Perhaps to teach me patience and priorities.  Perhaps to help me really earn my spot in the Heavens, which as my friend Lisa said, "Had better have a special place for mamas of little boys that includes some sort of 24-hour spa."  Perhaps so I could literally laugh at my definition of the word, "heinous" and realize that my sweet little life is the farthest thing from it, messes and all.

But, oh yeah, their Halloween costumes are oh so fitting.  

And that, is a foreshadowing of things to come very soon.  :)

Happy non-heinous weekend, to you and you and you. 

Yackity Yack...

Oh does he ever talk back...

The dissertations this little "Yo Gabba Gabba" can deliver would astound you.

Acey... you are something else little friend.  

And we sort of adore you and all your epic stories.
xoxo

Track 1...

There is a sound track to this particular time of year.  One that is soothing almost to the point of a bedtime story for me.  

It's my Dad's deer hunting lingo.  I could listen to it all day long.  The names of secret spots are almost poetic and the sweeping hand gestures that accompany these directions and past tales of success can lull me to contentment like the dancing flames of a campfire... 

"To Polly Wog on over to Lost and then around the Timbered Knoll and up the Black Ridge.  Take that old logging trail, cross the cattle guard up to Cooks and then come on around to Bone Flat."  His arms make wide sweeps and his hands bend left and right as he figuratively weaves through stream beds and follows forgotten fence lines guiding us to the big Muley he spotted earlier in the month.

I love that I am privy to this second language.  I love that my family full of boys gets to listen to this tune that I love so much and that they too get to follow Grampa's memory GPS and go to places where not many have gone.

I love that RyGar has become fluent in this language of tradition and that his knowledge of these family stomping grounds surpasses mine and will be passed lovingly down to these little men that bugle like pros into paper towel tubes and can spot deer and elk with the best of them.

And this year we tasted success once again.  I was the lucky tag holder for the general season deer hunt and after ten minutes of light on opening morning, I had my prize.  It wasn't a monster, but let's be honest... I'm not all that picky, and what I lack in discernment, I make up for in marksmanship.  

 I loved sharing a quiet morning with my hunting partner and guide, RyGar.  I loved that when we made it back to home base, the littles ran out to greet us with Grandma to "see the deer".



I love that these little tiny boys are ours.  And I love my husband who is teaching them to be good men, to have a love and respect for God's country and his creations.  I love that they are curious and healthy and strong and have great examples to look to.

I love that an entire weekend of mountains and hunting and cousins and four-wheeler rides and play doh and grandparents and uncles and aunts seems to be the perfect concoction for a happy weekend for me and my littles.

And I love that they wear themselves right out and then spend the drive home dreaming about the next time...

When we press play on one of our very favorite tracks of life.

Recent Life Lessons, and a Carmel Apple...

Don't ev-AH get out a fresh new four-pack of Magic Erasers to wipe down some "marks" on your bathroom door at 10 pm.  Geez, why couldn't someone have warned me that I'd be on a past-midnight erasing binge?  And what exactly is a Magic Eraser made of?  I smell carcinogens?

Probably if I ever get invited to participate on Dancing With the Stars, I will decline if a former gold medal gymnast is also a member of the cast.  Holy LSJ (Little Shawn Johnson)!!!

If you happen to get the opportunity to go to the grocery store with none of your little cutie pies - you will, in fact, get options for front row parking and you will magically walk up to a checker who is just dying to ring you up with no line whatsoever.  What IS that?

The longer you spend preparing dinner, the less likely it is to be happily consumed by your adoring family.  What is THAT?

If your husband lengthens the hose on your expandable kitchen faucet and you run down to his office to kiss him with gratitude, he mysteriously does not notice the bubble gum pink lipstick all over his face and he just grins like a cute amateur plumber.

The very best way to settle in for a fall night is with a caramel apple.  If you want, you could add a mug of hot chocolate with a restaurant-like, artistic heap of Redi Whip.  Yep, I said HEAP.  And if you come out "uneven" (a scientific term I learned from Uncle Ray) your hand is forced and you have to reapply a fresh mound of Redi Whip until the ratios are just right.

If you just cleaned your glass doors like a pro - we're talking squeegee here folks - then the darling neighbor boy will synchronously be teaching your little loves the BYU cheer and they will come running to practice on said glass door with their little sidewalk chalk covered paws.

Guess what I found in the great seasonal closet clothes swap of fall 2012?  One skinny red belt and my long lost leopard print Michael Kors hair calf belt which is one of the few fancy things I own.  When you're feeling a little fumptastic, pull out a leopard print belt and loop up sista.  All will be better within moments.

I think that we'll call that a wrap... one can only digest so many crazy deep life lessons at one sitting.  Am I right?

Happy Happy Hump Day.
xoxo

How Long is Too Long...

So, we did it.

We put our two little buddies in their matching beds in one room together.

Tuesday, October 9, 2012... a day that shall live in infamy.

Ok, Ok... That might be a tiny bit melodramatic.

But Ace Man's face pretty much sums it up thus far....

Along with the following stats...

Night 1 =

41 escape attempts

112 jumps off the beds

11:30 pm bed time...  ELEVEN THIRTY!

And yes, we put them to bed at 8 pm.

That is three and a half hours of silly little stunts folks.

And probably at least 57 threats from RyGar and Yours Truly.

Night 2 =

No escape attempts.  I refigured the door knob.  Lock side is out, suckas!

1 injury from late night jumps off beds... Oh Dax and his injured foot and split lip.  

It's getting wild in there. 

Bed time at 8 pm.

Actual sleep time 9:45 pm.

Some would call that progress.

Me?  I call that being closer to total exhaustion.

And so, despite our attempts to wear those little tigers out... the trend continues.

Today in church Dax was literally a zombie.  He got a sticker and put it in his preferred sticker spot, right next to his belly button.  Then he walked around holding his shirt tails up with his teeth, flashing his sticker all day in a total daze.

This afternoon he had a four hour nap.  

Seems counterintuitive to allow such a long doze when our ultimate goal is a peaceful and swift slumber time, but the kid SERIOUSLY needed some sleep y'all... Remember, sleep begets sleep in young 'ens.  (Can't I qualify as a young 'en?)

We have learned that if we threaten to separate them they simmer down a bit sooner.

We have learned that if we threaten to "turn off the circle light" also known as a lamp the shenanigans are at a minimum... for a good three minutes or so.

Ryan suggested telling them that if they get out of a bed a beast would eat off their toes one at a time.

Might resonate... but probably not.  :)

So, here we are on day five of our new sleeping sitch... and I ask you... how long until the novelty wears off?  How long until we should toss in the towel?  How long until this genius idea of mine is actually gonna work?

The thing about both RyGar and me (and hence our kids) is that we're stubborn folk.  Reverting back to their separate rooms means admitting defeat.  And that.... well, thats an admission that don't come easily, you know?

Mmmm... we're in a bit of a conundrum, we are.

(Why am I suddenly waxing poetic like Yoda?)

In the meantime, along with our unwillingness to "Cry Uncle", we do get one tiny reward in the form of the nuggets of gold we hear through their bedroom door.  Oh the things they say are downright hilarious.  I should record it and post it on YouTube for everyone to enjoy... it's only fair to those of you that actually read this long and meaningless diatribe about cosleeping.  

Here, I'll throw in a cute nakie picture just to even the scales a bit.

Oh good, we're still cyber friends.  :)

Hard Work...

Lately we've been logging the hours.  

Task Master.  That's what I'm known as around here.

Big K is working on his Preschool homework.

Dax Man is hard at work on his "compooter"

Ace a' Spades has been busy cleaning up the floor... one bite at a time.
Atta boy, Acers.

And RyGar - poor fella - he never catches a break don't ya know?  It's a tough shtick to be the bread winner of a growing family of boys but someone's gotta do it.
(THANK YOU FOR DOING IT!)

Me?  Oh, little ole' me?  I'm the kept woman of the house.  

Just sittin' around eating Bon Bons and watching Soaps.  

Ahhhh - sometimes  we ladies are soooo hilarious.

Happy Weekend!

Torpedo...

Do you ever see something in the store and you just know you MUST have it?

Case in point.

Big K  a.k.a. Great White

I saw this jacket and knew that my little emotional "gnasher of teeth" needed to sport it immediately.

Oh, I love you little man.
Now, let's become master of our own violent temperamental mood swings, eh?

Three.... it's the new Two, Ya'll.

Falling for It...

You might say we fell hard for fall this weekend.  

And who could blame us - eh?

I have been itching to see the colors live and in person and preferably on "my own turf" but since I haven't traveled south with the littles yet this month, we just HAD to settle for Sundance.  

Twist my arm... I know, I know.... woe is me.  :)

So, off we went to traverse the amazing Alpine Loop and down we came (you know, from 8000 plus feet to a mere 6100 feet at the base) where we miraculously somewhat skillfully boarded the lift with our little crew of Hike-a-Dave's and oohed and awed at the gorgeous phenomenon that is fall here in the Rockies.

There is something religious about soaking in the mountains with my family.  It may be that we are all literally closer to the Heavens, but in the high elevations I always feel the superfluous "stuff" of life just evaporate right off my shoulders and get whisked away with the winds.  And there I be - left with what matters the very most in life... the handsome hubs and the darling babes and my heart full of love.  And I feel blessed and clairvoyant and motivated to be better for Him and for them and for me.

And if that mountain air didn't clear my head and fill my heart enough - General Conference sure did.  It sounds so "grown up" of me to say that I look forward to this semi-annual event... but I do.  I am humbled by my still new role as a parent and I need all the wisdom I can get about teaching these little men of ours to be good, happy, stalwart and upstanding as they carve their own paths in life. 

I hope that when they get bowled over by life and it's seeming complexities, they'll step outside and remember this crisp fall day in the mountains.  And they'll know, that life is so simple it's silly.  And they'll breathe in deep and know what they know and love what they love and have a good talk with their Dad or their brother or their Mama or Him. 

Yep, so simple it's silly.

Now let's smile and drive head on to a new week, shall we?

Okey Dokey.

:)

To Sleep or Not to Sleep...

May we please have a public forum on cohabitating?  Cosleeping to be exact?  Please indulge me if you will...

There is a huge bedroom downstairs. Like second master suite bedroom. And I am toying with the idea of putting Kaelster and Dax Man in that room together. Am I crazy?  Is that nuts?  Is it pure genius?  Could I ask any more questions all in a row in a high and inquiring voice?  Oh the vacillating.

My pro list... in a nutshell:

Adorable. First and foremost. How cute would it be to see my two sleeping big littles down there together in matching beds?

Training. Currently when we travel and the boys have to sleep in the bunks at Grampa's or in the same hotel room bed It.Is.Madness.  Perhaps the novelty would wear off and we could all actually sleep whilst on vacation?

Bonding. I relive the conversations I hear them having all the time. It is priceless to hear the empathy in their voices when they recount someone needing a band aid. Or to listen to them giggle about a silly encounter with Coop. I just think that time spent jibber jabbing under the covers is awesome bonding time.  Am I right?

Cons...

Sleep.  It is a valuable commodity people.  Period.

Trouble.  I worry, (Like, tremor a little worry) about the shenanigans that the two of them will bring to fruition. There is mischief in those little minds and as the saying goes two heads are better than one.

Boy Stuff.  Will that room ever really be clean or smell fresh ever again?  This is a legitimate worry.  Any Mom of a male can totally vouch for this.

And so, I ask you - should we or shouldn't we?  

That is the question...

I'm guessing eventually we'll have three little beds all in a row. 

But baby steps, y'all.  Baby steps.

Choke in a Bowl...

Since we have lately been spending some time dwelling in the doldrums of reality lets broach this topic shall we?  Oh Boy - Brace yourself....

Dax might never poop in the pot ever. See Dax Man inherited his Grampa's gag reflex. And when he caught a glimpse of the freshly made batch down there he puked.  On the plus side, he was already in the bathroom so the mess was minimal.

Kaelster heard this all play out and came running in to coach Daxi, "Daxi u doin ok?  Did ja choke?  Daxi say, 'Mommy I ave ta choke' and then choke in a bowl ok?"

It was priceless.

And such deep wisdom from such a little older brother, eh?

And it would have been all kicks and giggles except then Daxi really did "choke" a few times the next day thanks to a little bug we had the privilege of hosting for a few days.

Followed by Kaels marathon night of "choking in a bowl" every hour on the hour from midnight to five a.m. with Daddy's caring assistance.  

Who knew that RyGar had it in him?  Sainthood is just about to be granted.

And we might never risk car travel ever again without our trusty bowls.

And finally it was Ace's turn. 

And baby don't like a stomach bug one bit y'all. And neither does his mama. 

Holy laundry batman.

Wanna know the sickest part of all this germ infested par-Tay?  

I was so entirely grateful for the way it all played out. Like how fantastic that they actually took turns and didn't launch their guts out in unison.

Yeah. Twisted. I know.

Anywho, I hope we're all on the mend and that the Gods of parenthood have spared Rygar and me from this virus virus bo birus.   I miss my spunky little punks.  And I only have so many quiet, stay-at-home, museum days in me you know?  Kaelster asked me tonight for "a trip to Gramma's new swimmy house".  

It seems I'm not the only one with cabin fever.

GRRRR.

:)