Ten Degrees of Road Trips...

There are many reasons why I love myself a good road trip.   I sort of feel like it isn't even necessary to delve into this... but this is a blog after all, so delving is what I do.  Thus... I present to you, the ten tops of a Southern Utah road trip.  

Road trips make me realize that I should totally be a yogi.  I mean, I can lock my thighs around the head rest of the passenger seat in the car while I do the downward dog to the back seat to hand deliver juice and snacks to whiny passengers all while remaining somewhat zen just to turn around and repeat about two dozen times.

Road trips make me so so grateful for awesome places to get away on the cheap.  Thanks to my Mom and Dad for letting us set up camp in the desert at their beautiful new home.  It was so comfortable and convenient and hello... Pool, Park, Popsicles.  Need I say more?

 Ahhh... a New Friend...

And I quote... "Oh Yord, I can't get the hose, Mom!"

Thank you, Mater, from Pixar's Cars.  We have a new favorite saying around here...

Road trips clearly illustrate that I should probably be on Dual Survivor with Cody Lundeen because, I mean, I can jimmy rig a portable DVD player to the baby back pack for comfy movie viewing for all aaannnnd make a handy cooler out of a couple of frozen steaks, my cosmetics bag and a Ziplock.  Don't ask.

Road trips make me love my gypsy husband who feels most alive exploring new things even if the newness is only through the eyes of the little folks in our entourage.  They are little traveling soldiers thanks to their darling daddy-o and his burning need to shake up the day-to-day.  And, like their Daddy-o they've each started to demonstrate their own little traveling OCD tendencies.  That's a whole other post for another day.  :)

Road trips almost always present the opportunity for swimming.  And swimming almost always presents the opportunity for post swimming naps.  There is simply no better variety of sleep.

Road trips to "Grandma's cactus house" create one of life's most natural seasonal makeovers....   Hair that is two shades lighter from the bleaching rays of the desert sun and skin that is two shades darker with a touch of pink.  And let's be honest... everyone looks better with a little tan. 

Every time we go to St. George on a road trip someone sees Jesus.  True story.  Last time it was Dax Man that spotted him in the gas station (ok, ok, a Jesus look alike) and this time it was Kaelster who saw the Christus at the Temple Visitor's Center and waved like his life depended on it as he burst out, "BYE, Jesus!  See Ya Later!  I yike your car!"  Maybe my motley crew feels closest to the Man Upstairs down in red rock country?  And FYI, Jesus drive an orange Charger.  Cool.

Road trips to St. George will now ALWAYS involve a trip to Swig.  I swear, I didn't know about all the hype this little gem was creating... but call me a doubter no more, friends.  The dirty Dr. Pepper is a serious treat.  That is all.

Road trips make me realize that I want a million more kids and no more all at once. My babies shriek with delight at all the things that new vistas bring to them like presents on Christmas morning.  They are happy together... dancing and laughing and telling stories about their silliest of all antics.  And of course, there are moments of the other extreme - the kind that sleep deprivation and exhaustion bring on... but who wants to talk about those?  "Me neither."  OK, then... moving on.

Road trips make coming home sweet.  As if you've gotten a new set of eyes and the way you look at this place that you spend your days and nights changes... it's almost like looking at the world through rose colored specs... 

All thanks to a little thing known as, (hands over your hearts) "A Road trip."

Sprink-en-ers...

Our latest discovery in life.

Not sure why it took so long?

We dig sprinkles.

Also known as "Sprink-en-ers" per Kael.
And I probably won't ever correct him because I melt into a puddle of sugar when he asks me to, "Make Sprink-en-er cookies in the Ree Ree Ree" with him... you know, the mixer?
He's onto something, calling household appliances by the sound they make.

Anywho, I would like to suggest a rainbow colored donut for everyone.
Because after last weeks emotional blows here in the good old U.S of A. we all deserve a little something delicious & happy.
And high on life, donuts & sprinkles feels a little like this...

Happy Hump Day!

On This Day...

Is it any wonder that RyGar and I chose this day, thirteen years ago,
to take the plunge and marry one another?

There is something about those sunny days of spring... (the ones sandwiched between the days of rain & hail stones) when the sun warms your back, and the grass is actually lush and green, and you sit watching your little baby birds play around in the dirt in the back yard, eating apples and collecting rocks, that just spells happiness.

I can't believe how far we've come... from two young know-it-alls to two young-ish parents who will soon celebrate having two three-year-olds and a one-year-old and all we have is a whole lotta love, a mortgage, a bunch of Tonka trucks, and a billion question marks.  Are we doing this right?  Should we approach this differently?  Are we saving, preparing, building, and all the other positive action verbs that are associated with creating a healthy and happy family?  This intermingled with the "let's just stay alive" moments... when we are overwhelmed by the fact that we rarely ever know what we're doing.

But I also know for a fact, that my husband and my kiddos feel love here. Whether we're mowing the lawn or having bubble baths or watching "The Funny Show" - there is warmth, hugs, chaos & happiness.  And that is something. And Ryno and Me - we are good at making decisions and sticking to our gut instincts... the ones that I believe come from the Heavens to us through a divine parental conduit line... and those moments are the ones that make this whole family building thing feel innate and natural.  

And then, I have my RyGar... whom I am drawn to like the Northern Star.  I am so so lucky to be his.  He leads our family like a natural-born Columbus even through the roughest seas and he makes me laugh -- the kind where Diet Coke fizzes out my nose -- over the lamest little things.  And I drive him crazy and make him smile and make-out with him whenever the opportunity presents itself.  So there you have it... the formula to our symbiotic relationship.  Scientific, eh?

Does this post have schizophrenia like the spring weather?  Mmmm - let me summarize...

Love is big.  The most simple aspects of life are the most beautiful.  I feel incredibly blessed to be making a family with all its intricate relationships and traditions with my partner and my babies.  And I am the luckiest girl in the world to be spending my life with my Ryan...

Happy Anniversary, RyGar.
...lucky # thirteen...

And thanks for joining the team, Little Men of Ours.
XO

Survivors of Sorts -- Me n' Him...

Yep, you read that right... Acey and I are members of an elite club... Shit Creek Survivors.

We (meaning he) had a little bout of something nasty and I literally scrubbed bodily fluids from various household surfaces from sun up to sun down and I just felt so bad for Acer's little heiny.

But alas, it is history.  And so it is written.

And I was thinking to myself as he was jabbering to his reflection in the mirror feeling mostly all better as I got the tub ready... wouldn't it be out of this world if there were two of him?

Double the Pleasure...

Double the Fun...

Oh Wait... Double the "you know whatty buddy..."

Ewwww.

I'll take what we got and put a smile on my face Thank You very much.

So... "Bottoms Up" to You & Your Weekend!

Bottoms Up... Ha Ha... Sometimes I get a kick out of being nasty & clever all wrapped into one.

Diagram of the Best Napper...

My sweet neighbor, Stephanie, was lamenting with me a while back about the premature death of nap time for our then tiny toddlers.  She even poured a little salt in the wound by recounting how her oldest son napped until he started Kindergarten... "Say WHA?"  I know, and I was just green with envy as my chubby, little, blonde, two-year-old nap retiree was out running circles around the yard fully energized as if he had downed a Monster Energy drink. 

Alas, the Universe has created balance.  

Enter Daximus, the best napper this household has ever known.

Yesterday, after a long morning of playing and a belly full of food, Dax Man announced, "Mommy, my legs are so tired.  I need a nap."  And though he is going to be three next month, I scooped that little baby in my arms as I do every afternoon and carried him to his bed and tucked him in tight.  He is my nap champ.  The best little bundle of afternoon warmth a gal could ask for.
The picture of nap perfection.

And while this gold medal napper and his little brother in the sandman department make one o'clock church next to impossible... I wouldn't trade it for anything.  Because they're only little and napping for such a little time... and I could get all existential about how close to God I feel when I sit and watch them breathe deep, even breaths, dreaming of who knows what, but I won't... because if you've seen a sleeping baby, you know this religion I speak of.

Dax, I dub thee, "World's Best Napper".

I know you're probably just so darn tired of holding those eyelids open considering the sheer weight of your incredible lashes... but whatever the reason, I'll take it.

XOXO.

Barber Shop...

Today was hair cut day.

I get told all the time how lucky I am to have boys for a variety of reasons.  And I totally buy most of them.  Lately, several people have reminded me, "Oh, do you even know how much time you save every morning on their hair alone?"  Point well made, friends.

And I do.  I totally rub some lotion on their little faces each morning and on up their craniums right into their short little locks and, voila... handsome-ness abounds.

But, on hair cut days (which comes around every two weeks... who are these little Chewbaccas?) 

I totally make up for it.  

You see, hair cut days involve the stressful balancing of babies on stools, the dancing over and around a couple of extension cords & four power tools running almost constantly -- I often think we're gonna blow a fuse.  We must have the trimmer, the edger, the blow dryer to blow off  "itchy wootchies" non-stop and the vacuum to suck up the fall out from the chair so it doesn't get "sticky on our toes".  See?  Suddenly the hair care program here for a bunch of boys becomes soooo high maintenance.  

But pretty darn cute nonetheless.

And Free.  Everything free is better, yes?

And sure, it ain't a fishtail braid or a messy bun...

But that might just be my favorite part.