Spring Training

It was a gorgeous day. The smell of sunscreen filled the air.

It was a sold out stadium. The last game of the Spring season. Red was donned by all.

The seats were perfect. A steal of a deal at the last minute.

There were plenty of home runs and foul balls. We had our glove ready.

The kettle corn was tasty. The fans were rowdy.

The game was exciting. The boys were in heaven.

The Angels won.

For our little family, Saturdays don’t get much better than this.

Kites

My husband loves kites. I was going to try and be clever about how I went about saying this, but really, he just does. Since we met I knew this and I think it’s the cutest thing. He gets so excited about them. I recently learned that his grandpa used to take him, along with his brothers and sisters and cousins, and that is why they hold such a special spot in Austin's heart. It's a sweet memory he has of his grandpa. I think it goes without saying kites will be an adventure he has with his children and grandchildren.
We ALWAYS have one in the garage. Whenever we go to the park for a picnic or a family outing, a kite comes with us. When we go beach camping, it's always packed in with the camping gear. When we were in Sedona for his birthday, out of all the cute shops on the Main Street, the only one he wanted to go in was the kite shop…and it was closed. Poor guy.

For Christmas the boys got Austin a brand new Red Baron kite just like the Red Baron Snoopy flies. Dax was especially excited about this. Without a lake, ocean or mountains near by, windy days are hard to come by. We finally had a chance to take the kite out this weekend and discovered how awesome this kite truly is. Even the high-tech gage on the handle read that the wind conditions were “excellent” for kite flying. How cool that our kite tells us that?


So, Austin being the pro kite flyer and teacher that he is, this is what we learned about kite flying:

1. Find a buddy to help you get the kite into the air. Good thing Austin has two of the cutest buddies around.
2. Hold the ball of string and have your buddy hold the kite or vice versa. Or just be patient as Dax prances around the kite not understanding a word his dad is saying.

3. Unwind about 30 yards of string being careful so not to let the string tangle. Being the smart (and maybe a little obsessive) Dad that you are, bring a second kite for your three-year-old to tangle away his little heart out. 4. Hold the kite in both hands and toss it lightly into the wind until the wind catches it. Laugh as your littlest buddy gets a face full of wind while running around crazy and cute. 5. To allow the kite to go higher, release lengths of string. Watch the kite get higher and higher and watch the admiration grow for the coolest dad.

6. To lower the kite, simply pull in the string. It helps if you have 6 hands to do this part. 7. Call it a day. And what a memorable one it was.

Red Balloon

Once upon a time in Paris (actually Arizona) there lived a boy named Pascal, I mean Wyatt. He had only one brother, and sometimes he was very sad and lonely at home because his brother would be off playing.

Once he brought in the messy dump truck from outside, and some time later the shovel from the garden. But his mother said outside toys brought dirt into the house, and so Wyatt was soon alone again in his mother’s well-kept rooms. (Ha!)

Then one day, on his way home from school, or his cousin’s birthday party, he caught sight of a fine red balloon, tied to a lamppost. Okay, in reality a chair. Wyatt laid his toy on the ground. He held his hands up and cried until his grandpa untied the balloon, and Wyatt ran off with it.

Wyatt quickly made friends with the red balloon and vice-versa, and the balloon followed him around through the halls of his home. The pair drew inquisitive looks from adults (just his mom) and the envy of other children, just Dax, as they wandered the house.

Wyatt soon realized the balloon had a mind and will of its own, and it began to follow Wyatt wherever he went.

In the real story, the Red Balloon, by Albert Lamorisse, the balloon magically follows Pascal. In our story, the balloon honestly and truly followed Wyatt.

But it wasn’t magic.

It was all about the static cling.

The End.

Las Vegas

My family has some really great friends that live in UT. We joke about it now, but when we were all younger we thought we were cousins. I don’t know how we thought we were related, but somehow we were. When my family would venture to UT for a few weeks in the summer and a few weeks in the winter, we always spent plenty of time with these close “cousins”. Our dad’s were the best of friends in their bachelor years and played softball and basketball together in Southern California. They were in each other’s weddings, and since then, some portion of each family have traveled many many miles back and forth from CA, AZ, and UT to be their for some major events in each other’s lives including weddings, receptions, baby blessings, adoptions, temple sealings, sports tournaments, and graduations. Austin met this “family” even before some of my real family members. It’s a wonderful relationship, one never to be replaced.

Austin and I have a similar story with our friends Reed and Kathryn.

The guys were roommates in college, a freak accident with a mutual friend. We all got married just a few months apart and as newlyweds, the four of us became fast friends. They helped us move into our first home in Utah, and then helped us pack it up a few years later. Kat threw me my baby shower for Dax and was literally one of the first people to hold him at the hospital. We have the most fun when we are with them and have some of the best memories together.

When the chance came up to meet Reed, Kat and their adorable little girl, Brynley (who was only a few months when we moved) in Las Vegas for a weekend, we jumped at the chance. We reserved a two bedroom condo a block from the strip behind the MGM Grand that ended up being more than perfect. We cruised the strip, ate some great meals, took in the sights, saw Paul Sr. from Orange Coast Choppers, the boys gambled…and only one won (here’s a hint: Reed), the girls shopped, the guys shook hands with Pete Rose, we played our all time favorite game, Yahtzee (Reed was on a winning streak), stayed up way too late talking and just enjoyed being together. The kids got along so well and were such great travelers.

The trip was perfect, I only wish it was longer. We miss those guys like crazy. We decide this would definitely be a yearly tradition. I think we definitely found a “cousin” for Dax and Wyatt in Brynley, because if I have anything to do with it, we are going to be friends for a long, long time.

Belagio FountainsM&M FactoryCeasar's Palace

Paris Paris

Play Pens

So far, my kids have never been ones to play with their toys. They find that the Tupperware cupboard or rolls of toilet paper are much more fun. We have baskets full, drawer fulls, closets full of toys, and on most days they go untouched. I have no idea why. We have great toys, but for some reason, old spray bottles, Austin’s sandals, and cardboard boxes provide them the most entertainment.

Not only do the boys not really play with their toys, they play in the most peculiar spots around the house…especially Wyatt. He loves playing beneath the clothes in our closet that hang on the lower rung and barely skim the floor. I will find him back there with my brushes or race cars doing who knows what. He loves to climb on top of Dax’s train table in his room and play King Kong and destroy the entire train city. Then he will sit up their easily for a half hour (as long as Dax isn’t around). He’s mastered climbing onto the couch and crawls to the corner of the sectional where he lounges amidst all the fluffy pillows and looks around like we should be fanning him and feeding him grapes because of his wonderful accomplishment. Whenever we go outside in the back he beelines it to Austin’s beautiful garden, climbs over the three story high brick pavers and plants himself right next to the tomato plant with a shovel. It’s the tomato plant every time. Forget the lettuce or cilantro. Just the tomatoes. Oddly enough he has never once tried to pull off the cute green tomatoes growing or the yellow flowers that are budding. He just sits in the dirt and digs. He loves to play under the kitchen table, behind my easel floor mirror, under the desk while I work, behind the side table in the den. I’m starting to realize it may just be any spot his brother might find it hard to get to him.

I find all these play spots endearing. He is so charming and happy and content and it’s fun to watch to see what he does.

Nevertheless, there is one spot in the house that he tries to get to multiple times a day and keeping him out of it has become the vain of my existence. He screams and yells and turns red in the face trying to get out of my arms when he wants this spot. He is getting so fast and sometimes I don’t even have time to get to him before it’s all over. It’s becoming quite the power struggle between the two of us and what’s even worse is Dax thinks it’s the funniest thing and that just encourages Wyatt even more.

Yup, the bathroom sink. What is it about a porcelain bowl with a plug that is so appealing? Maybe it's the monumental task it takes to get in it, which he has mastered to do in 3 seconds. Maybe it's the pump soap bottle he's after, that if you notice, is completely empty thanks to Wyatt. Maybe it's the perfect size and roundness for his little legs and bum to fit in comfortably. Maybe it's the mirror he gets to laugh into when he sees himself.

Whatever it is, I thought it was cute for a second.

Until he figured out how to turn on the water.

Imagine

The world is but a canvas to our imagination. Henry David Thoreau

This is Dax's world...

He’s been riding his bike and has gotten stuck in the “mud”. “Help! I’m stuck in the mud!” Wyatt and I get to rescue him.

He’s trapped a baby armadillo in a “rubby cave”. I’m not quite sure what a rubby cave is yet, but luckily I get to feed the armadillo.

He’s “lassoed” everything around him with a shoe string, including me and his brother.

He’s rode along the lawn and back a million times in his Little Coupe car to “deliver the mail.” I even got a “Balentine’s”.

He’s “killed those bugs” as an exterminator with his spray bottle of water. I get to go pretend to be grossed out as I examine the plastic scorpion, spider, snake, and frog he’s planted in the grass.

He informs me every time he sees a plane in the sky with the white line of clouds trailing behind that it’s “Spider-man.” And I get to play along and tell him that he’s off to save someone. He thinks that’s a pretty good answer.

He’s turned into a pirate on a treasure hunt for “quarters”. That’s an awfully important treasure to find.

He’s lined up all the kitchen chairs and used Tupperware lids as tires and screams, “All Aboard!” I get to climb in and take a free train ride.

He’s cooked up some “pizza” with his big, white mixing bowl, wooden spoon, and yummy Hot Wheels. Best pizza I ever tasted.

He runs around the house screaming because the “monster” is going to get him. A few seconds later it’s Wyatt coming down the hall with his snotty, runny nose laughing his head off.

Dax’s imagination has taken off. Like Thoreau said, the world truly is a blank canvas to our imagination.


I love being apart of Dax’s imaginary world.