Cheeky Boom...

I missed these sweet little high pockets this weekend.  This little toosh was off with Daddy-o for the last weekend of scouting before the big elk hunt actually takes place.  It was his turn and he knew it and he talked about going to Grampa Hooky's house in the white truck all week long.  He was one happy two-year-old dreaming of four-wheelers.

Then RyGar sent me the report that Dax Man was "different" this weekend.  Shy and more reserved.  Less apt to show off and share his bag o' tricks.  Just observant and quietly content.

I sent the report that I was calling Big K, "Saint Kael" all weekend.  His competitive edge was in hibernation without his brother around and he was zen and "different" in his own right.

Their little solo personalities simply amaze me.  They really are "two peas in a pod" when they're together and when they're separated for any great length of time, they are at a bit of a loss.  If I were assigned a science project at this stage in my life - that would be my topic for sure.  It is astounding.

And that leads me to my next observation...

How much does this fall weather rock your socks off?  I was running around chasing after our newest runner (Acey has learned to sprint y'all, and he thinks it is hilarious to be pursued) and snapping I-Phone photos like a lunatic at the park on Saturday because the light was filtering through the golden trees and making me swoon like I was high on something other than life.  

And I just stopped and had a moment where I declared aloud,
"I am in love with our fabulous Indian Summer."
And Ace shook his head "No No" at me because a random proclamation like that does indeed make one sound like she is from crazy-ville.

And I know it is changing, but still, let's just give  it a big old "Boo Yah" because it's been so totally awesome.

Boo - freakin' - Yah!

And lastly, I have thoughts about holidays and vacations and mama methods that have been making my heart ever so happy, but I pulled 'em out of the old cranium oven tonight and stuck a toothpick in them and they came out all gooey and unfinished... so more to come later.
I blame the time change on my befuddled evening thoughts.
But... "I'll be back."  :)

Of Victory and Defeat...

Do you have that lingering/ever growing list at your house?

The one that taunts you with its length and overall sigh-inducing depth?

We do too - it's lovingly called, "THE LIST" instead of the "Honey Do List" because we all know it takes a team to tackle a list of such magnitude.

Anywho, we crossed off a major item on the list this past weekend...

Trampoline - SUNK.

V-I-C-T-O-R-Y!

And now, instead of flying through the air and annihilating our fence the tramp will remain grounded all winter long during our "Storm Sandy" type winds.

And hopefully our kiddos shall stay close to the ground as well.

Let's give a big Standing O to RyGar, shall we?

Who got the steel that skirted the tramp,

Then skirted the tramp with the steel.

(Does this sound like The Old Woman Who Swallowed a Fly to anyone else?)

These two were a constant, patient audience.

Living the dream as they watched a tractor in their own back yard.

And generally "helping" ALL DAY LONG.

  

And on to the defeat portion of this little spiel...

The boys are back in separate rooms.

I mean, seriously, what can we say?  

Dax is a night owl.

Kaelster likes his space.

Dax can and does climb to high places at the behest of his brother

Who eggs him on with giant belly laughs.

Sleep was becoming fewer and farther between.

RyGar and I were getting ornery every night at the prospect of fighting the nighttime battle.

Oh - it was not our finest few weeks.

We gave it the old college try... 

And we cut our losses.

Maybe when they are a little older?

Who knows.

Let the record show...

Littles - 1

Parents - 0

Everyone that does this - y'all are amazing.

Hats off.  Hats off.

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.