Return of the Nimbus...

My Kaelster is such a weather watcher.  He recently learned about cumulonimbus clouds, and the way he says it leaves me grinning like a lunatic EVERY.SINGLE.TIME.

So yesterday, when the cold and wind and rain returned and things looked more like February than late April here in the Rockies, what was there to brighten my day?  Big K and his declaration that he had spotted, "A big, humongous 'thimble-bo-nimbus' cloud!"  I swear, those big impending clouds parted for a minute to let in the rays of sunshine that that little outburst invited.  

And other little things we've been enjoying during our "spring preview" and subsequent return of winter...

Swings, Meet Ace...A bonafide member of the Little Rascal cast.

Washing Machine.  Meet a billion pairs of shoes.

Mud has abounded and since we've been living outside, no shoe remained underutilized.

Dirt, Meet Dax.  He loves you.

Amber, Meet the Gas Fireplace Vent.  Who knew?

 Kael, Meet John Stockton.  And the preferred length of bball shorts.  Just kidding.  Just kidding.

World, take a glimpse into "the dare".  It works every time.

And here we have a play date.  

No really, I joined two of my handsome fellas for a morning at the play house to watch "The Cat in The Hat".  I was terrified.  They did great.  These overachieving preschool teachers really know what they're doing.

Continuing on with our theme...  My Thing One and Thing Two met the original Thing One and Thing Two and thought they were deliciously naughty from their balcony seats.  Praise Jesus we survived up there without a single dismount attempt.

Everyone, we introduce to you the most fun game of all time... "Mommy make a big tower out of us"

Insert chorus of laughter.  EVERY.SINGLE.TIME.

And there we have it.  A review of all things nimbus and non-nimbus related.

Happy Weekend.

Lately It's Lovely...

Big news... Daddy-o hasn't traveled much these past couple of weeks.  We barely know what to do with ourselves.  What we do know, is it is lovely.

We also know that clearly no one else will do for a bedtime story but the big guy.  I almost die of love overdose when I see him with little man children piled all around him in a tiny little twin bed reading, "Goldilocks and The Three Bears" for the third time in a row.  It's just too much to take in a single moment and it makes my heart burst.

And about that... My days, you guys, are totally mundane and physically challenging and on the surface look like errands and groceries and toddlers and meals and cleaning and repeat.  But those things all tally up to building a life together.  And being able to see those shifts in love -- from cleaning a toilet out of love for my family with a healthy dose of obligation -- to just basking in the two-year-old that is running full speed at me with his arms out yelling, "I'n coming!" and when he reaches my legs and wraps his little arms around them he pronounces so sincerely, "I yove you ALL the time, Mom" -- to sitting next to my partner in crime at the end of the day in comfortable familiarity and sharing some silly laughs between two tired people who are in love.

It's all kind of rewarding and thrilling and shockingly beautiful and I just love it.  And with these four men of mine around, there is rarely a moment in any given day when I feel lacking in love.  Which is such a huge blessing.

Now, when I contradict myself in my next post,

let's all just chalk that up to, "the ebbs and flows of life".

But until then... loveliest mid-week wishes to you all.

Impromptu Picnic...

This is how we felt last Friday when we saw the sun's rays penetrating the bluest skies.

Kinda like a little mole who popped his head out of the ground and was blinded by that warm fiery orb.

So what else does one do with their small gaggle of Super Heroes but ride bikes & four-wheelers all day then hold an impromptu picnic?

 I try to resist getting giddy and celebrating like a loon because I know we still need more snow to fill up our lakes and reservoirs this summer... but c'mon.

A little mid-February basking is harmless, right?

It's the sweet simple things in life that are the REAL ones afterall.

It's nice of the weather to Jazz things up like that for us.

The weekend did real good by me.

Cheers to that, friends.

Sometimes We Match...

Maybe you can tell by these little man getups - but I'm seriously feeling color lately.

It's got to be a legit side effect of the dreary days we have been experiencing (with the exception of this past weekend)... Hello fab.

  And it doesn't stop at little man wardrobe selection... oh no, I'm gonna slap some new colors up on the walls of our home.  It's time.  Doesn't mid-February equal the official transition to spring even though we know we're going to have that freak blizzard the first week of May?  :)

SO, if you see me this weekend in paint spattered sweats at Home Depot just ignore me.  You pretend you don't know who that woman covered in latex paint with her hair knotted atop her head is and I'll pretend you don't either.  It's really just the decent thing to do, don't you think?

:)

On Grown Ups...

I spent the past weekend with my Mom and Sista in sunny St. George, Utah.  We toured fabulously decorated homes at the home show, and shopped, and ate, and got our tootsies done, and went to a movie, and basically lived the life that dreams are made of for a few days together.  It was Heavenly.

And do you know who watched the kiddos and held the home front together while I was away?  You guessed it... Ryno, The Great.  I came home Monday night to well-fed, tired, happy kiddos who dutifully reported the only strike of their weekend, "I stepped in dog poop".

And that, my friends, is a successful long weekend.

Yesterday, I spent the day conquering ten loads of laundry.  TEN.  And I smiled to myself as I vanquished pile after pile.  Boys.  They're a messy lot.  My Big Boy... The King Pin... He fed these babes of mine, played with them all day-every day, maybe even bathed them.  He kept them from any bruises or injuries that I can see, and tucked them in tight every night.  He gave it all his big boy energies and I'm proud of him.  Even if laundry and vacuuming and things of that nature didn't even cross his mind.  :)

Tonight I was waiting for Dax to brush his teeth-- P.S. It's not "Daxi" anymore - "Just call me Dax, not Daxi", he tells me.  And I nod solemnly and agree to adhere to his mature little wishes.  Anyway, I was looking at the reflection of my face in the mirror and Dax said, "Do you have 'a zits'?"  I laughed and said, "Probably."  He asked why I would have "a zits" and I told him I guess it must be because I am a pubescent grown up.  To which he replied in the most serious tone,

"Yep, girls are grown ups and boys are just kids."

Never have truer words been spoken.

Happy to be home in my sanctuary with my people kids.  :)

And feeling blessed to be surrounded by the best of grown ups, and the cutest of kids, of all-time... Ever.

Sweet Moments...

All right, let's have some fun already.  Sorry for my rant last time.  I've since put on my big girl panties and I'm ready to rock the present moment like it's never been rocked before.  

So, without further ado, I present to you, the sweet little moments of the sweetest month on the calendar which brings us all up to date and here we are closer to March.  See what I mean?  Indulge me for one last, "WHAT THE..." moment regarding time warps.   Holy black hole of time! 

Anyway, this first batch of sweet moments is sponsored by things that move.  Enter, trucks, tractors and trains, by golly.  The way these kids carry on about moving vehicles you would think they'd been driving long-haul for years in their big rigs or bailing hay for decades or working for the railroad for an entire lifetime..  The little boy engine sounds and associated crashes and grunts are impressive and positively innate.  I guarantee I have never been able to make such a realistic vehicle sound in all my days... it is a gift specific to the male species.

Batch two.  These are my little stolen sweet moments in time; the best kind.  No one even knows you're there capturing them, but there you are, fulfilling your role as the official memory keeper of your little clan.  Be still my beating heart.

 Final sweet moment.  Story time with Grandpa.

Nailed it.

 You know there is no limit to the number of sweet moments you can collect, right?  

It's terribly romantic if you ask me.

Love Sick...

Happy Valentine's Day & Be Warned:

Wistful me is about to open up a can...

I'm just feeling like I want to stop time.  I know that is a trite phrase, I know I say "slow this down" all the time, but really, this week I had to register my not-even-five-year-old blonde baby for Kindergarten and another blonde baby for preschool and I just.... whoa, you know?  And it all welled up inside me and I had a sudden glimpse of these big pathways of life unfolding ahead of my boys at mach speed.

Pathways that I know will hold storms they will have to weather that are big and deep.  I wish with my whole heart I could protect them from it all. From life.  But it is inevitable that they will just keep growing and doing new things and it is a love sick game that requires letting them go and creates this mixed bag of mama emotions.  Let's call them "momotions".  And let's call this whole "mothering growing babies" the Olympics of Life, in the spirit of Sochi and all.  Well, that coupled with the fact that I feel like surviving this marathon of emotions will require nothing short of the most rigorous of Olympic training And/Or Jedi mind tricks.

I mean... our kids.  We love them.  We worry.  How do we do this?  This is hard.  That's what it was this week.  All these exciting decisions that have to be made as our little babies grow bigger and perch near the edge of our nest compounded and they became heavy on my heart.  It came to a head on Saturday when we ousted the crib from our house and brought in my baby's big boy bed.  I was a mess.  So much so that I just knew I would become that mama who, in her frantic flapping of wings, would most certainly knock one of those little baby birds clean off his feet and watch him helplessly fluttering in the air flapping madly...

And then... I could literally see this cartoon play out in my head in slow motion... just as I went into a nose dive to save my little ball of fluff, (I pictured a little yellow tweety bird, a la Snoopy) his tiny wings beat rapidly at the air with natural motions until he lit lightly upon his own two feet on the solid ground.  And I know no matter how I snowball all this together into a giant mess... those little babies of ours will fly.  It's what they are meant to do.  It's what our love empowers them to do.

Nothing could have prepared me for this.  The ride of parenthood is rough... and resisting the urge to hover or just swoop in and save my little people from every possible situation that is bound to go wrong will be the death of me.  But I've got to just let go and let them do what feels natural-- and smile at the journey, with it's scenic parts, and it's arm-pittish parts, and all it's other parts in between - and it will all work out.  It will all work out.

This wistful woman has got to shut her big mouth.  Being sad and venting is important and has it's place, but it's a very unproductive place for me to stay.  As crazy fast as the time warp seems to be spinning, it can never compete with the greater power of loving my children and trusting in their innate abilities and their cores of goodness.

I mean, look at 'em.  There is untapped power and goodness there just waiting to make its mark on the world.  I should be giddy at the potential.  So, giddy I will be.  And now that I'm back to kicks and giggles... Happy Hearts day from our little animals.  

And big smooches from me to the mister who has a  crazy gift of pulling me out of my head when I need it the very most.  Thanks for anchoring me back down & making me laugh, lova boy.  :)

.XOXO.

Not so Land of Nod...

You know those adorable little play teepees you see EVERYWHERE these days?

I'm totally tempted.  But, the things is - they are spendy, they are frail (read - does not blend well with the Gardner boys) and they just aren't half as cool as this baby...

Enter, the Hunting tent.  "It's a real "life" tent, you know," says Dax.

There is a simple solution to any rainy/snowy/soggy -stuck inside day- conundrum you might find yourself in.  It is, the dome tent.  And it's a dang good thing this girl scout knows how to quickly assemble one of these suckers.

-Pop some popcorn and view your own personal drive-in movie.

-Gather your toy rifles and play "It's night time.... MORNING!  Time to go "catch" a deer"!

-Make it your bat cave or your Spiderman headquarters.

-Hoard your nerf guns in there and unzip the door to shoot out at bad guys.

-Hide your pirate treasure in there from mean ole' Captain Hook.

-Try to run inside it with your brothers like hamsters in a wheel.

I mean, you get it.  It's multifunctional and it's rad.

Is it pretty?  Not so much.  But I've been told "pretty" is not the adjective of choice for little misters.  And I guess we're stickin' to it.

:)

Exit & Re-Entry...

Well, it finally happened.

Our own little "lost boy" who refused to grow up and snuggled into his little crib cocoon every night finally pressed the Eject button.  And I would have cried if the whole thing weren't so dang hilarious.

Before I share, let me expand on our little walking dichotomy of baby and boy.  He is confusing to say the least.  He talks at you in full, well-thought-out sentences with excellent grammar, but he grows silent and sucks a binkie like a newborn at bed time.  He will throw a tantrum at you like a seasoned two-year-old, but will profess his love and affection like an old soul as he seers your heart with his intense eyes.  This one... It's hard to know just what to do with him.

So, on to the great escape...

Words might not do the process justice, but pictures... well, let us grace you with our favorite images of the whole process.  It's kind of like reading assembly instructions in a foreign language so you revert to those "not so helpful" renderings?  Yes, exactly that.

The evil idea hatches in that little noggin'.

Fling the leg up, yoga style.

Careful... Careful...

This is clearly the most precarious part.  Purse those lips, buddy.

Oh yeah, we're on the home stretch now.

And grin like a loon before you even get to turn and take a bow.

Oh, Acey.

You took your sweet time (for which we were so grateful) but once you decided to go for it, you did it with style, little friend.

I mean, check out his re-entry.

Classic.

Every.Single.Time.

And now the nightly "Get back in Bed!" rituals begin.

Yay  Pray for us.

:)