Off we go a-haunting. . .

**Updated**

The adorable fireman's jacket that Dax is wearing has been in the family for almost a decade. My sister-in-law bought it for her son when he was about Dax's age, and since then about 4 nephews have worn it. Each time it gets worn it gets a little more tatered and a little more dirty...just like a true fireman. Wyatt was the perfect fire doggie, except he really had no desire to have a wet black nose. But I think he is still pretty cute!

A few weeks ago Austin and I went to a couple's Halloween party and were required to dress up as famous character couples from TV or movies. We went as Clark Kent and Lois Lane. Even though we didn't win best costume, we did win a iPod nano! Yahoooo!

Dax saw us all dressed up as we left for the party and kept telling everyone that his Dad was Superman. Austin, being the great dad that he is, decided he better dress up as Superman for Halloween. Dax didn't quite know who I was, but decided I needed to be a butterfly. So, I went and bought some wings so we could all dress up together on Halloween night. We headed over to my mom and dad's for chili before Trick or Treating and felt a little silly that no one else dressed up. But when we got back to our neighborhood to meet up with friends, there were tons of adults dressed up walking around with their kids! We had so much fun, and I know Dax was excited that his dad was Superman and his mom was a butterfly!!

Boo to you from our crew!!

1st Annual

Trick or Treat, smell my feet
give me something good to eat.

Tonight we started a tradition that I think might last for years to come.

I’m calling it the MacGillivray Night of Frights and Spooky Delights.

Except that is kinda long and really hard for a 2 year old to say, so I’ll give it some thought to maybe shorten it. But for now, that’s what we are calling it.

This year, things were simple. The boys picked out pumpkins. While they carved, I was the ghostess with the mostess. I secretly prepared a spooktacular dinner in the kitchen, decorated the table and played some spooky music.

I'm hoping as the years go by, this tradition will evolve.

Maybe each of the kids will be allowed to invite one friend over. Maybe there will be a pumpkin carving contest. Of course we'll have the dinner. Afterwards, maybe there will be a scary movie, or maybe The Great Pumpkin Charlie Brown, whichever one. I'd vote for option B, but I might not count one of these days. And maybe I'll be the mom that embarrasses her sons and his friends by dressing up as a Witch the whole night. And while they are watching the scary movie that I got out voted on, maybe Austin could scare them with fangs just to add to the memories.... and nightmares! That sounds like fun!

For me, The 1st Annual MacGillivray Night of Frights and Spooky Delights couldn't have been more fun. Traditions are all about being with your loved ones and making memories, and that's exactly what we did!!

A bootiful witcy brew - I melted chocolate and painted ghost faces on some glasses and chilled them in the fridge. Right before dinner I filled the glass with a yummy vanilla shake.

Be Nice to your Mummy - For these little mummy's I made porcupine meatballs, spooned out the middle of a baked potatoe, then criss-crossed string cheese across the top for the bandages. For fun I added pickels and M&M's for the legs and eyes.

love love love

25 Things Wyatt Loves....

Drinking out of Dax’s Diego cup
Using his mom as a jungle gym
Taking baths and splashing
When his dad comes home from work
Getting tickles under his chin
Tupperware and toothbrushes
Blabbing
Sticking his tongue out
His musical Snoopy
Crawling away at the speed of lightening when I change his diaper
Door stops
Earrings and necklaces
Playing hide-and-go-seek under the kitchen table
Going for walks
Eating “real” people food
Looking out the window
Playing trains in Dax’s room
Finding the tiniest morsel of food on the floor and putting it into his mouth
Smiling at strangers while out shopping
Cheerios
Cords
Blowing raspberries
Sitting outside on the grass
Playing peek-a-boo
His brother

What’s the one thing I love most about Wyatt these days?

This smile (oh, and the snaggle tooth coming in)!!

Guitar Hero

As we leave grandma and grandpa’s house, Dax quietly asks, “Mom. Can I take this home?”

“No, Dax. It stays here,” I say hoping against hope that this answer doesn’t result in a total melt down. It is already past bedtime on an already long Sunday tacked on to an over jammed weekend.

“But can I play with it when we come back?”

“Yes, of course,” I say and softly guide him towards the toy box to put it away. Pheww. He handled that pretty good.

The second Dax puts it down, one of the other cousins grab it. I look at his face and can tell he is heartbroken to leave it. It’s his most beloved toy at my mom and dad’s house. It’s the one that all the grandkids can play with alike; all the way from the oldest to the youngest, boy or girl. Even Wyatt had a few seconds with it before a bigger, faster cousin swiped it away. He just moved on to something else. He doesn’t quite have the love for it just yet, but he will. It’s the toy that was purchased at a garage sale for a dollar but would cause buckets and buckets of tears by all twelve grandchildren if it ever broke. It’s the toy that even on its loudest setting doesn’t bother me. It’s the toy that makes me smile when I see the kids playing with it.

It’s the Sesame Street guitar.

When we left the house on Sunday night, Dax proclaims, “I love playing that guitar”. I love how he says guitar, just like a cowboy with a twang. It made me smile because I love watching him play that guitar.

I would love for Dax to have the exact same one at home. But truthfully, it really wouldn’t be as fun. Part of the fun of this toy is that it stays exclusively at grandmas and grandpas. I would never want to take the fun of it away by having the same exact one at our house. Nor do I think I could ever find one like it anywhere.

But, I thought something along the same lines might be fun. So yesterday, this is what I came up with.

You would have thought I invented a light bulb with how excited Dax was when this little creation was complete. He didn’t want me to cover it with paper, or give the suggestion of him taking some markers to it, or even wear the perfect zebra print guitar strap ribbon I had stashed in my closet. He wanted music on right then and there so he could rock out. It’s was so funny to watch him play, even on his shoebox/rubberband guitar. He does this move that I’ve learned is called the Duck Walk. He jumps on one leg and can move his other foot back-and-forth all while he’s playing. And his favorite is running and sliding on his knees across the tile. He really looks the part…and I have no idea where he got these moves. Either way, I was totally entertained listening to him play.

As I’m watching him I decide, one day, as soon as he is old enough, I think he would love taking guitar lessons. I would sign him up as soon as he was ready. I started daydreaming as he sat on the couch concentrating on plucking those guitar strings how fun it would be to have him play songs for the family around the campfire when we are camping, or maybe even play nursery rhymes for any future little babies who come along. He could play in the school talent show and at Christmas parties. It would be so much fun to have someone with musical talent in the house.

Then I pictured him wanting to start a grunge band in the garage. He's already got the holey jeans.

And then, maybe 10 or 12 years from now when he asks me if he can, I would think, “This is all my fault.”

And then I would probably smile again.

Footie Jammies

The past few days have been, dare I say, COLD!

Last night there was just enough of a little nip in the air to pull out the footie jammies. I forget how much I loved Dax in these kinda of jammies, and now it’s Wyatt’s turn. There is just something so darn cute about them. Maybe its how his diaper bums looks in them, or how he looks extra tall and skinny, or how his little crawl makes a shhh….shhh….shhh sound. Whatever it is, I can’t get enough of them and I am so happy it’s finally that time of year.

What else do footie jammies mean? It means we can finally go on bike rides and walks and play at the park without having to be a 5-gallon thermos of ice water. The boys can finally play outside, for longer than 10 minutes, and not have to let the adventure in the great outdoors involve any type of water or swimsuit; two good things. They mean I can finally cook dinner in the oven instead of the BBQ without worrying how blistering hot it will make the house. We can finally sleep with the windows open (maybe even a cover or two if it’s really cold) instead of running the a/c all night. It means I can finally turn on the water in the kitchen sink and have it be cold the second it comes out rather than letting it run for 2 minutes to cool the warm water down. It means Wyatt can finally wear cute shoes without feeling bad that his little feet will sweat right off. It means I can finally curl up on the couch with a warm….

Wait! What’s this? 97 degrees by Friday? Scratch that!

Oh well. Footie jammies---what a cute preview of things to finally come…one day!!

There’s No Buddy like a Brother

My mom gave me a cute sign when Wyatt was born that says “There’s no Buddy Like a Brother”. I love it. I love how true it is. And for some reason today, I was thinking a lot about it.

You’d probably think I was witnessing a loving interaction between the two; Dax with his halo and Wyatt with his sweet squeals laughing at his brother and adoration in both their eyes.

Wrong!

What made me think of this quote, how there is no ‘buddy’ like a brother, was when I had to explain to Dax what a “cheap shot” and a “sucker punch” was. Seriously.

This morning Dax worked some pretty major WWF moves on Wyatt without the poor little guy even seeing it coming. I had to explain to Dax that it wasn’t fair for him to body slam his brother, especially when Wyatt has no idea it’s coming. Forget the lecture that Dax is two years older, 20 pounds heavier, knows how to run, knows how to talk, and so on and so forth. We’ve been through all that, and it doesn’t hold any bearing at all.

So we have a new rule. No cheap shots and no sucker punches.

Well, that’s only the rule for the time being.

I think during one of these smackdowns, me and Wyatt had a moment. Dax was performing some super flying clothesline, neck binder, drop kick, belly bounce move, and Wyatt and I made eye contact. Wyatt wasn’t crying, he wasn’t squealing, and he wasn’t yelling. I knew he knew I was sorry his brother was going crazy. But, I honestly think Wyatt didn’t care. He was thinking that one day, not too far off, he was going to get Dax back. He was going to be able to put Dax in a head hold, and fire punch Dax in the stomach, and super clothesline him.

And I may have to pad the walls and buy new furniture and make a few hundred trips to the emergency room, but Wyatt deserves to get his revenge.

Because really, at the end of the day, there truly is no buddy like a brother.

Toddler Diet

My doctor talked to me about Dax’s diet after his second birthday. She called it the “toddler diet”. The diet where he would suddenly be more picky about what he eats. And probably turn his head away after just a few bites. Or refuse coming to the table all together. She said to just offer him a variety of food and not to worry because he would eat when he was hungry. After last week, I almost called her.

I was concerned.

Then I kept a record for a day:

1 container of apple sauce
½ strawberry pop-tart
1 bowl of Kix
A glass of milk
A bowl of Pretzels
3 M&M's
Scooby Doo fruit snacks
The other half of the strawberry pop-tart
2 servings of creamy black bean salsa chicken casserole
2 oranges
A glass of juice
Another bowl of pretzels
A bowl of Wyatt’s dry cheerios (which would explain why Wyatt was crying in the back seat and Dax was quiet)
String cheese
A banana
Batman fruit snacks
Zwieback toast (again, Wyatt’s)
1 entire sloppy-joe
8 sun chips
3 cucumber slices
6 grape tomatoes
A total of 8 candy corn's for going potty
Topped off with a glass of milk before bed

My toddler isn’t picky. He eats anything. He doesn’t turn his head away from food. He asks for more. He doesn’t refuse to come to the table. He won’t leave it.

Am I worried? Yes, because there is another little guy hot on his trail. And two growing teenage boys keep flashing through my mind.

Growing Up

I just might win the worst mother of the year award by confessing this.

Why has it taken me 2 years 9 months and some-odd days to figure this out?

How did Dax age years right before my eyes?

Why did I shed a tiny tear when I dressed him for Church today?

And why, why, did no one ever tell me this is the way to "accessorize" with little boys?

What one tiny thing could do all this?

A tie. A tie!

He was wearing his first tie. And my obsession begins.

Our Beach Bum

It took a little more convincing to get Dax down to the beach. Whose kid is this?? After a little power struggle, some major out-smarting, and some pretty convincing grandparents, Dax had a great time…in the sand that is.

He loved finding rocks with my dad and playing Smash Ball with my mom. He ran miles, miles, chasing birds away. Even with the gorgeous weather we were able to enjoy, the beaches were not crowded, so the little two-year-old running around didn’t seem to bother anyone…except the seagulls he kept chasing off.

A few times he would be distracted at almost catching one of the birds and get pretty close to the water, but not once did his little toes feel the salty ocean. It was pretty funny to watch. There was a cute little girl playing by the water one day and he wanted to share a shovel with her because she had no sand toys. He ran down fairly close to where she sat playing, threw the shovel in her direction, then sprinted back to the towels all in one big circle. I heard him talking as he ran back, “that beach is going to get me.” So funny, it was hard not to laugh.

Each day he did get closer and closer. And instead of the mantra from last month where he kept saying “the beach is so scary”, by weeks end he was saying “the ocean is scary but the sand is nice”. I can take that!

Besides, beach bums don’t have to actually go in the water to be considered a "beach bum". They can hang out on the sand all day long and never go into the water if they don't want to.

Right?

Our Surfer Boy

I think Wyatt will make a great surfer.

He was up every morning at the beach before the sun came up; the same time as the die hard surfers were hitting the glossy water and perfect waves.

I didn’t complain one bit.

We sat outside with our sweatshirts on, hoodies over our heads, wrapped in a soft blanket and listened to nothing except the sound of the crashing waves.

Some mornings as the sun was coming up we hoped the wall and collected sea glass for my mom. Wyatt was hypnotized by the ocean. He loved it. During the day he gladly sat in the sand, and mostly tried to eat it, but glady sat nonetheless. He was so much fun to watch. I loved how he would grab a handful of sand and let it slide through his fingers -- I didn’t love so much how he tried so despertaley to eat the dried up seaweed.

I think he’s a true little beach boy. There was no crying over cold water, a sandy diaper bum, wearing a floppy hat all week, or sandy cherrios. He was pretty easy to please. Let’s hope it’s the same case next year.

Because I'm pretty sure he whispered to me that he can’t wait to go back.

cal-i-for-nia

How do I recap a week at the beach in one word?

Glorious!

My mom dearly misses the beach, so she and my dad rent a condo for the month of September in Oceanside to escape the heat. They graciously invite each one of my sisters’ families for a few days to come stay with them. Last year Austin and I happened to go the week of my birthday, and the same thing happened this year as well. I have to admit, we don’t go to CA specifically for my birthday, but now that is has happened a few years running, as long as I can convince my sisters, I think I might unofficially officially declare the week of September 15 as our week at the beach with my mom and dad as long as they keep inviting us back! And I really hope they do.

I love the beach. The beach is home.

Well, it used to be home. It was my home for over 18 years. In high school we would walk to the beach at lunch. We even had a Surf Team. We ran to the Pier for warm up before practice. We spent long summer days laying in the sun on the crowded beach watching the helicopter fly up and down the coast to film the intro to Baywatch and getting David Charvet to sign our empty box of strips and cheese. It was a simple. It was peaceful. And is was so much fun!

It has been close to 10 years since I have lived near the beach. I know how lucky I was to grow up there. I know I took if for granted. Warm weather, beautiful ocean, amazing sunsets, great people, we had it all. When I can only stay for a week at a time now, it just doesn’t seem fair.

The thing that makes it okay for me is getting to experience it with Dax and Wyatt. I think one of the things I love most about being a mom is watching my children experience new adventures for the first time. I love how doing something my whole life, something that is so familiar and common to me, can all of a sudden be an entirely different experience when you do it with your children for the first time.

So, I figure in the posts ahead I will try to relay how the boys perceived the week.

All’s I can say for certain, it was glorious.

So good bye beach. See you next year! Thanks mom and dad for a wonderful trip and Jamie for taking such amazing pictures!!

Promises

I had been promising Dax that we could go feed the ducks since he was doing so well on the potty. It has been since early spring since we had visited our favorite little pond, and let’s face it, it has been way too hot to even try. So, seeing as we’re in mid-September, I felt like a trip to the park wasn’t an unreasonable request. Dax and I both were ready for some fresh air and different scenery after a week in the bathroom…I mean house. He’s doing great, so it’s been well worth it being home bound for five days, but we definitely needed to get out.

We grabbed the bread and a blanket and headed out yesterday afternoon. Dax was thrilled. Whenever we are going somewhere exciting, he sings a little chant that goes, “We’re going to the (fill in the blank) woooo!” Sometimes I have to initiate this little chant to generate some excitement. For example, “We’re going to get our hair cut, wooo!” just to see if I can trick him into thinking we are doing something extra special. But on this day, he sang that chant proud, all by himself, all the way to the park.

We arrived at the park and no one was around. I was a little nervous because I couldn’t see any ducks right away. Immediately I start to wonder, maybe ducks aren’t even in “season”? Maybe they have flown south for the summer? Do ducks migrate? Maybe it’s still too hot for them to be in Sun Valley? I don’t know these things! I start to panic. I have this thing about promises. I know most parents are this way, but I am really really adamant on telling Dax the truth. No white lies. I don’t try to trick him or tell him something false just to get him to do something I want. If I say we’re going to do something, we usually do it. If I say I am going to buy him something or give him something, I do. True, these promises are pretty few and far between, but if I make it, I keep it. I have seen kids disappointed or let down and I vowed never to be that parent that would say one thing and not ever follow through. So, when I couldn’t see any ducks, I just wanted to cry. It looked like I wasn't going to be able to keep my promise, and that just doesn't sit well.

We get out of the car and walk towards the grass area and lo and behold, under a park bench was a beautiful white goose happily resting. I point her out to Dax and he grabs a hot dog bun (bread? hot dog bun? same thing, right?) and takes off towards her. I’m thinking this little goose is going to be in heaven to have all of our bread all to herself. It was going to be picturesque watching him feed this little feathered friend. She was stark white, the water was crystal blue, Dax was looking as handsome as could be (like always to me), and we had the pond all to ourselves.

It didn't happen that way at all.

My wonderful vision is interrupted when Mother Goose decides to take off in the other direction. Dax patiently goes after her, trying to tell her to come back and eat the bread. Next thing you know she disappears behind some bushes (see first photo). He runs over to me and asks where she went. I tell her I am not sure and start panicking again because our little adventure is not turning out right at all. He says, “I think she went to change hims clothes”. Hmmm. Maybe, that’s a good guess. But really, I am just feeling horrible that the one little goose that is around runs off and won’t come back.

Dax doesn’t seem to be bothered. He is happy just to be “free”. He runs up and down the water shore, climbs trees, plays peek a boo with Wyatt and chases the birds. I’m feeling a little let down that my big promise to feed ducks was a total bust. Dax informs me he has to go potty (this is going to take some getting used to) and as we walk to the bathroom, we are pleasantly surprised to see on the other side of the building about two dozen ducks that are more than happy to see us.

Let’s just say, these ducks were fed with pure love. And thankfully, promises were kept.

Meet Bob

Bob is our new friend.

He has started to come around a lot lately. But that’s okay because we all really like him.

Ever since we met Bob, he is our wake up call. The time? Usually ten to six. Bob

We eat breakfast with Bob, and play in the morning with Bob. Bob. Bob.

Come to think of it, Bob’s around most of the day.

He goes on walks with us. He drives in the car with us. He sings and dances with us. He plays with our friends with us. He fixes lunch and does dishes with us.

Bob usually stays throughout the afternoon and usually through dinner.

He can get really loud. BOB!

And he can be really fast. Bobobobobobobob

Oh, and he is sooooo funny. A bob a bob a bob.

In fact, even with him around all the time, I still can’t really figure out who this “Bob” is.

I don’t know any Bob’s. Austin doesn’t know any Bob’s. Dax doesn’t know any Bob’s.

But Wyatt does.

And he says his name all day long.

Potty Party

I had no idea this was all going to happen this week, it just sorta happened…..

….we have started the adventure of potty training.

On Wednesday I asked Dax if he wanted to sit on the potty and surprisingly he said yes. What’s even more surprising is he actually went when I put him on the potty. He was so proud of himself and so excited, so I decided I better just run with it. We’d been reading "Once Upon a Potty" for a few months now, and he knows all about “Joshua” and his “new potty”. I remember when I worked at Media Play (kinda like a Sam Goody) when I was in college seeing this book in the Book section and laughing at how funny it was. It’s all about how everyone has a “body” and this body “has many nice and useful parts” and unfortunately, I have it memorized, but Dax loves it and insists we read it all the time. Whenever we talk about anything related to the bathroom, he ends everything I say with “like Joshua”, the little boy in the story. It’s like they are friends; it’s so funny. All the “potty” phrases we use are from this book.

Other than "Once Upon a Potty", I have not done any reading or studying up on potty training. I only know what I know from friends and family experience, horrible and successful. Everyone has different solutions and techniques that have worked for them, but the one thing that was consistent with everyone I talked to is that Dax needs to be rewarded like crazy. So after he went potty on Wednesday we made a mad dash to Target to pick out his “special treat”. I couldn’t help myself when he went wee wee (that’s what we call it thanks to Once Upon a Potty)to do a little celebrating. So, I invented a little term every time we entered the bathroom and told him that we were going to have a little “Potty Party”. He thought that was fun. So when we were at Target I bought a few extra things to really make it a party.

We got some cool “undies” and some foamy soap that he was real excited about. We were looking for Diego or Mickey Mouse, but the only foamy soap character we found was Sponge Bob. He’s never seen the show but knew exactly who he was, and even though I am not a fan, I thought the foamy soap would be perfect for our Potty Party. Then we got some drinks and treats and he picked out a very cute 3D Fisher Price Memory Game with animals and hay stacks complete with a plastic egg carton carrying case. A very good choice if I do say so myself, and I may have had a little influence over it. Let's be honest, the boy does NOT need another truck for heaven’s sake!

After he went to bed Wednesday night I made his “Dax’s Potty Party” chart and hung it in the bathroom. Whenever he goes wee wee, poo poo, or sits and tries, he gets to put a star on the chart. I showed him it when he woke up on Thursday and asked if he wanted to put on his undies. He was so excited and couldn’t wait. For our “potty party” I bought cookies for when he goes wee wee and cupcakes for when he goes poo poo. We don’t stock a lot of treats in our house so these were especially special. His eyes lit up when I showed him the plate.

It’s been a few days now, and besides the very first accident on Thursday morning, he has successfully gone wee wee in the potty every time. I figured out that he wasn’t going to tell me he needed to use the potty, and after the first accident I discovered what the pee pee dance was, running in circles was, and crossing the legs was. Those all meant he had to go. It is a little hard to distinguish these moves when he kinda runs in circles and jumps around anyway because he is such a wild boy, but I think I got it, because every time I would run him on the potty, he would go. We even have a nice little routine down now---Run to the bathroom, drop undies to the ankles, fling undies off ankles and laugh extra hard when they land on your head, go wee wee in the potty, do our Potty Party song and dance (which baiscally consists of saying "potty party" lots of times real fast with a few "woo-hoos" thrown in), pull a little toilet paper from the roll and drop it in the toilet more like a salute or farewell because we all know boys don’t need to wipe, flush the potty, wash our hands with foamy soap, put a star on the chart, and get a treat from the plate.

So far so good! The poo poo part is going to be tricky, I can tell. He fooled me today and I won’t go into details, but let’s just say he was a little extra sneaky when I was distracted with Wyatt. Any suggestions? Overall, not too bad except the fact that I am going a little house crazy. The baseboards in the bathroom are spotless, the linens closet is clean and organized, and I have mentally redecorated the bathroom from paint color to accessories.

I think we’re headed down the right road, a diaper-less right road that is! Yea Dax!!

Disclaimer: Don't mind Dax's attire, he insisted on wearing his "muscle shirt" all day, even if it meant his Batman jammies. And, he needed to stand on a "tall tall tower" to wash his hands, hence the stool AND the gallon of paint. Nice, I know.

Our Rock Star

I did not grow up with much of a musical upbringing. At one point I think I was interested in taking piano lessons, but I think that was more because my older sisters had taken lessons and I thought it was only fair. The lessons didn’t last. I guess my mom thought it was a waste because the piano teacher only came once for me. My mom would never tell me I was a lost cause, but that must be the reason. She probably couldn’t stand to listen to me practice. But I don’t blame her; I was probably nails on a chalkboard bad

I can’t hold a tune, not even close. I’m not even an “okay” singer. I am horrible. Just horrible, and I’d admit it to anyone. I disclaimer whenever I sit next to someone other than my husband at Church that I stink.

I don’t even know anything about music. I don’t know how to read it and I don’t know how to lead it. I honestly don’t remember learning any of this, even though I know they teach it. I must have been absent that day. I remember enrolling in a Music 101 class my first year at BYU because it filled a general requirement and figured it would be easy enough. I remember looking over the syllabus at what we were expected to know, and I couldn’t even stay in the beginners class because I didn’t know how to count music, I couldn’t tell one note from another. Treble clef, measure, quarter note, sharp, flat, what is that?? I’m pathetic.

I can barely keep a beat, and even that is hard. I have no coordination, therefore I only lasted in one jazz class as a child and that has even left scars because we wore atrocious costumes that involved red spandex, bare stomach midriffs and crimped hair. Even lately I gave it another whirl with a hip hop aerobics class and I am telling you, it was soooooo embarrassing.

Austin is pretty much the same. He never played a musical instrument and focused on sports when he was younger. I actually think he has a really nice voice, and has the confidence to sing fairly loudly, even at Church, but he would never join the choir or anything like that.

Basically, our children are doomed.

At least that is what we thought.

There have been quite a few situations arise the past few weeks that give us a glimmer of hope that maybe, just maybe, our kids have a fighting chance at having a well rounded childhood rather than one that is tainted only with sports. Dax has given us a world of hope. Here are three examples how:

1. Dax has been playing at a little friends house on Tuesday’s and the other day I went and picked him up and they were listening to the Kidz music channel on TV and dancing. He was having such a great time and rocking a pretty nice beat. He actually looked pretty coordinated and not like a total spaz like his mom. He even threw in a few twirls just for me when I got there. I usually turn on the radio when we’re cooking dinner and lately he has loved having a little dance off in the kitchen while I cook. Even when we were in HB on the pier there was a little concert with some Reggae band, and Dax had no problem busitn’ a move in front of hundreds of bystanders. So, he has rythym! Hooray!!

2. A few days ago we were at Austin’s parents and Dax and his little cousin were providing the entertainment as usual. Jett brings out the Guitar Hero guitar, presses the hand to one of his stuffed animals which is a gorilla that sings “Wild Thing” and pretends he is playing the tune on his guitar. He held the guitar perfectly, stood with one foot in front of the other like he was doing a hard core solo, and was banging his head as he played, and he’s two in a half! Dax’s turn was next, and instead of pressing the gorillas hand for a mock concert of “Wild Thing” he belts out every word to “I Love to See the Temple” rock style. We couldn’t stop laughing. On Sunday his nursery leaders told us he did the same thing with the play guitar in his class, and they couldn’t stop laughing either. So, he has an interest in instruments and loves to sing! Hooray!!

3. Yesterday as we were cleaning and getting ready to leave for the day Austin turned on his iPod. We were all singing and dancing and Dax runs out of the room. He comes back with a turkey baster and proceeds to sing in it like a microphone. Austin and I get distracted with something and Dax takes his place in front of the full length mirror in our room to watch himself sing and dance. He is singing a song, but nothing I can make out. He keeps saying the same phrase over and over again. I can’t quite tell what he’s saying, something I’ve never heard before. The only thing he has been singing lately is “I Love to See the Temple” and even though it is a great song to be sung, it’s been making me a little crazy!! Austin and I have a quick conversation that goes something like this;

Dax singing in the background

Bryn: Austin, what is he singing?

Austin: I have no idea.

Dax still singing in the background with the turkey baster.

I listen really hard to try and make out the words…
Its two butterflies…..?

Its takes two …??

Dax still singing in the background with the turkey baster, jamming in front of the mirror.

Austin stops what he is doing to try and make out the words.

Dax still singing in the background with the turkey baster, jamming in front of the mirror, and singing so unbelievably loud.

Finally Austin picks up what he’s saying.

Dax: “It’s tooooooo laaaate to apooooologiiiiiize. It’s too late….” (the song by OneRepublic)

Are you kidding me? We laughed so hard. Where does he come up with these things?

We concluded that we might just have a little Rock Star in our home.

My mom has told me lately that a singing child is a happy child. Dax is definitely happy. And when he sings like that, so passionate and so fervent, so are his mom and dad.