swim. trunks.

When it comes to buying things for the boys, there are a few items that I am a complete and hopeless sucker for. Hoodie sweatshirts are one of those things. I can't resist them. Hot wheels are another. Have you seen how any styles of cars there are? A boy can never have too many. Crazy, twisty, colorful plastic straws are a must. They are just so fun and make drinking from a cup way more cool. And always, always swim trucks. I am a total sucker for swim trunks. The boys have dozens, literally dozens of trunks. I can't walk by a rack without stopping. And I can't walk away from a rack without buying. But trust me, they never go to waste. They always wear them. Daily. In AZ, swim trunks are a necessity.

The past few weeks the boys have been taking swim lessons and putting all those swim trunks to good use before the official first day of summer. For Dax, things were a refresher. He was ready to go right off the bat and kept getting in trouble for not staying on the step when it wasn't his turn. I can't blame him though, he just wanted to swim. For Wyatt, these were his first lessons and although the first couple of days he would have rather been doing anything else, by day three he was having fun and learning all he needed to be safe. Both boys float, kick like maniacs, are pros on the paddle board, jump from the edge and can find the wall, and can dive for rings.

Now that Memorial Day is over, we're well into 100 degree weather, and we're all pool safe, we couldn't be more ready to spend our days playing in the pool.

So.....whose can we borrow?

Graduation

I had a moment this week. Wyatt and I attended Dax's pre-school graduation on Monday. He still has one more year before he heads off to kindergarten (dang those December birthday's). But, I have to admit something, I don't really curse his late birthday as much as I lead on. In fact, I don't hate it all.

You see, I have no problem that Dax is home with me for one more year. I have no problem that I get to listen to his silly, imaginative stories for one more year and have him quiz me on words that rhyme and counting backwards for one more year. I have no problem watching him grow 3 inches and gain 7 pounds in 10 months (thank you Mrs. Vanderpool for documenting that!) for one more year. I have no problem not having to rush him out the door for school in the mornings or not worrying about getting him to bed on time for one more year. I love it when he stays up late with me. I have no problem having one on one time when Wyatt takes his nap and Dax and I get to lounge around and talk...usually about dinosaurs, for one more year. I have no problem having his helping hands around for one more year. I have no problem letting the boys relationship flourish for one more year, because they are entering the cutest, nicest, let's-play-together phase and (cross your fingers) exiting the I'm-going-to-make-your-life-miserable phase. Thank goodness!

And I absolutely have no problem feeling like a mother hen for one more year protecting her little chick. Let's face it, my eyes maybe, slightly, possibly, welled up with tears as Dax received his pre-school diploma from his teacher and looked out at me and smiled so proudly. I smiled and waved back through the tears and I couldn't help but picture him 14 years from now, finishing high school and excited to start his life, on his own, without me. And my heart ached.

Time. Please stand still.

Brothers are more fun than....

Last week we had a motto. I stole the line from one of our favorite book series, "An Elephant and Piggie Book" and changed the word "friend" to "brother". Whenever there was a dispute, this was the motto. Brothers are more fun than who gets to play with the walking, talking dinosaur. Brothers are more fun than who gets the Diego cup. Brothers are more fun than going potty first (yes they fight about that). Brothers are more fun than arguing over Yo Gabba Gabba or The Upside Down Show. Brothers are more fun than crying over who's bag of fruit snacks I open first. Brothers are more fun than winning the race to the mailbox. You get the idea. We used it multiple times a day.

As is turns out, brothers are more fun than just about anything. And being their mom is too.

Pictures courtesy of my amazing friend Brittney. She's so talented! Check out her site brittneygurrphotography.blogspot.com

Fishing Trip

There are things about living in a house full of boys (and by boys I mean Dax, Wyatt and Austin) that probably only a select group of people can understand. Things that are charming...and I use that term loosely.

There's always pee in the toilet. I've learned to just accept it and make frequent trips around the house flushing toilets. I've tried to remedy this little situation, but let's face it, it's been useless. Gross. There will always be pee in the toilet.

There are always socks on the floor. And then I wonder why when I go to do laundry there is always a missing one...or two. Who the heck knows where they disappear to.

We have more baseball hats than I literally know what to do with. I guess I'm kinda at fault because I buy the majority of them, but I can't help it.

Did you know when boys get hot and sweaty they stink? Three sweaty boys in a small house does not make for a nice, inviting aroma. I fear this little trait is just going to get worse. Good thing I love them despite their body odor.

Obviously we don't cut the boys hair as often as we probably should. But let's face it, if all three boys got their hair cut as often as they should and for fifteen bucks a pop, we'd be in the poor house. Thank goodness one boy knows how to cut the smaller boys hair and that the one older boy trusts me with the clippers to do his.

And boys snore. All of them do, no matter what age. Camping can sometimes be a little to much for me to handle...but we still go ever year.

Lucky for Austin, he gets to do manly, bonding things with his boys and they can be as "boy" as they want. This week, he took them fishing for the first time. I honestly think it was a little dream come true for him. All three were as excited as the next to go on this adventure. They packed the car, they took fishing poles, nets, bait, ice, buckets, and about a hundred other little things (and grandpa) and set off on their trip with me waving them goodbye from the porch.

I stayed back and grocery shopped, cleaned house, did a little shopping and had dinner ready for when they got home. They left in the afternoon and returned well after dark, dirty, with scrapped knees, and exhausted (and thanks to grandpa with five fish). I missed those boys while they were gone. I miss that I didn't really quite fit into the equation of a "boy's fishing trip". But I love that Austin has his boys. And I love that he gets to do these things with them, even if it is without me.

Mostly I loved it because I was the one who got to greet them when they got home. That I was the one to get big hugs and kisses. That I was the one who got to hear their stories and all the fun they had. The boys went on and on as they drifted off to sleep. That's when I get the best coversations out of them and that night was no exception. Austin picked up the stories where they left off as he gutted and filleted the fish. I just sat and listened and smiled.

I'm a lucky girl living with all these boys.

We are Family

I promise, these are the last pictures from our Easter "photo shoot" (if you can even call it that with me behind the camera...I wish!). I usually don't post pictures from one shoot on multiple posts, but this time I couldn't help myself. I rarely get pictures of Austin and the boys. I rarely get pictures of me and the boys. And for obvious reason, we rarely get pictures of our family together. And although they are not the best pictures (let's be honest, I'm a girl and I will always nitpick about the way I look in pictures), when I saw these they made me smile. They reminded me of a little saying I have hanging in my house. It reads...

In Our Home

We do second chances

We say prayers

We do I'm sorry's

We play hard

We do loud really well

We give hugs

We do love

We Are Family

And to me, there's nothing better than mine.

Every Little Boys Dream

Last week my mom and one of my sisters took the kids to the very last Angels Spring Training game for the season. It's one of the perks of living in AZ. We catch at least one game a season and somehow we managed to wait until the very last game to make it this year. Our husbands were working so it was just us girls, with our little boys. What a treat!

When we got to the game one of the ushers told us to come sit in her section because they didn't expect the park to be full. So we headed down the bleachers to the very front row to watch the teams warm up, take batting practice and eat our lunches. The boys stood at the fence yelling to the players and were so excited to be up close and personal with professionals. Okay, so maybe that was me, but they were still very excited.

As a pitcher from the Indians headed back to the dugout he tossed Dax the ball he had been warming up with. So cool! Dax was so excited but we wanted to make sure his cousin and Wyatt got a ball too. The players were doing some running drills and playing catch and as two players headed in after warm-ups they grab three balls and handed one to each of the boys. What nice guys!!! Even though it's a crummy picture, I love how below you can see the player looking back over his shoulder and smiling at the boys, knowing he just made their day!

We snapped pictures and texted our husbands and they were so envious that they were working and we were sitting in the sun, watching a ball game, and seeing our little boys dreams come true by getting a real true live baseball from a real true live professional baseball player.

I thought for sure that when school rolled around today that Dax would take his two baseballs for show and tell. Nope. He wanted his Night Fury dragon he got from Easter. Go figure!

Well, if for now he doesn't understand the coolness of these baseball, I'm sure he will one day. These babies are going into special cases in their room!

Brotherly Love

I think I have titled a post this before. There are moments in my life where I see it displayed, that special brotherly love....and it makes me happy.

There have been times where these two do not get along at all. Not even a little. I'll go to bed thinking about how my day consisted of breaking up legitimate fist fights, pulling one crying punching boy off the top of another crying scratching boy, yelling for one to head straight for time out and demanding the other to march his little toosh off to his room. They cool down, they say apologies, they give hugs and they make up...only to find the same thing happening two minutes later. It makes me tried. And sometimes grumpy. And sometimes really grumpy.

But, thankfully, there are moments throughout the week that over shadow these moments. There are incidences when I know these two brothers love each other. That they are thrilled they are brothers. That they know they knew each other before they came to this Earth and bonded a long long time ago. Moments where I can feel Dax's sense of protection for his younger brother and moments that make me so proud beyond words to be their mom. I am so blessed.

Well, today we had one of those moments.

Dax had been gone at preschool. I was working. Wyatt was happily watching a surfing Backyardigans (note to self---do not erase from DVR). Dax gets home from preschool about a half hour before I am through with work. They play for a bit and then when I am done with work I make them lunch. Not more than 3 minutes after Dax was home from school Wyatt was crying. I was instantly a little frustrated. I'm at the end of my day, Wyatt had been pleased as pie all morning and they had been in the same room for less that 5 seconds and Wyatt is already crying. It doesn't make sense to me, but that is what happened.

Because I wasn't in where they were playing, I didn't see what had happened. Knowing exactly what kind of story I was going to get from Wyatt ("I beeeding" (I'm bleeding) is always his answer to my "What happened?" even if he isn't really bleeding and always followed by a fake-dramatic-I-want-to-see-my-brother-get-in-trouble kind of cry). I call them both into my office (oh wait...my bedroom where I work from). However, this time, Wyatt is really bleeding. Not the freak out kind of bleeding like 5 months ago. No, like he barely must have bit his lip and I can see a granule of blood on it kind of bleeding. After a few "he pushed me" and a few "I fall down's" and other rigmarole (I don't still don't even know what happened) Dax decides he is going to get Wyatt an ice pack for his lip.

Don't think I am being a bad mom. About 99% of the time I tell them to "Shake it off", and "Ohhhh, that didn't hurt", or like Austin says, "Rub some dirt on it". Basically, Wyatt sooooooo didn't need an ice pack, but I was impressed Dax was being charitable. I told him "that's a great idea" and they both run to the freezer. I heard them open the door, dig around a little, and I holler nonchalantly for them to close the door.

Dax comes running back to my room. He proceeds to tell me that he has gotten Wyatt something really cold for his lip. I say "thank you!" thinking it's the Spider-man ice pack on the bottom of the freezer door. He's unusually excited about this really cold thing he has gotten for Wyatt and just as I start to inquire of him some more, Wyatt comes wandering in with an egg pressed to his lips.

An egg! Not hard boiled, not a pretend plastic Easter egg. A real live, cold, egg.

I start laughing, the boys start laughing and I sit down on the floor with both boys on my lap and we laugh some more as Wyatt holds the egg to his lip until he feels all better.

If you ask me, that is brotherly love.

Terrible Two's

Why are two's so terrible? Contrary to this cute little picture, I'll give you a few reasons why:

He gets into my makeup, lotion and lip-gloss...daily.

He is caught drawing on the kitchen table sans a coloring book.

He escapes the house and runs his fanny down the street any time the front door opens.

He wipes his soapy hands all over the bathroom mirror....for fun.

When you ask him to bring you something he tosses it to you and says, "Go fetch!"

After he successfully steals his brother toys, he purposely drops them behind the couch (about 5 times a day)....for fun.

He throws tantrums for not getting to wear his flannel monkey jammies to bed every night. Same thing with those yellow boots you all know about.

He drops food on the floor...for fun.

He is a nuisance at the park on most days for throwing sand, pushing innocent kids and being a bully.

He dumps pitchers full of water out of the bathtub...for fun.

He doesn't eat regular meals, he has his own special diet complete with fruit snacks, fishies, string cheese, pop tarts and lemonaid.

And my current favorite (dripping with sarcasm), every other word is poo, toot, and poop. No really. Every. Other. Word.

Please!! Make it STOP!

Okay, so I think I may be a little at fault. He is so stinkin' cute to me. I try and get mad, and I do, trust me, I do, but the minute I turn around I sometimes laugh. What else can you do? Sometimes laughing is all I can do in place of selling him on the street corner to anyone who'll take him. And I think he sees me laughing. And then he does all those terrible things again and yells "poop" even louder.

According to a Terrible Twos Countdown Calendar I found on the Internet, I have 282 days -12 hours- 31 minutes - and 6 seconds until my child is out of the terrible twos phase.

Kill me now.

It's time

Yes, I know these look like happy, sloppy mug-shots, but this is the before.

I love the boys long hair. I know they look like ragamuffins. I know they look unkept, homeless and a little disheveled, but I still liked it. I think it went along with their personality. The long hair made their reckless, crazy behavior all the more endearing. I think I would tell myself, "Of course they would act like rebels and little out of control because they have long rebellious hair....they are just playing the part" I think I also thought that if we cut it into a nice clean, missionary-type cut, they would not fit the role very well. Ummmm, probably not at all.

But, the day came. We haven't cut their hair since last September and Dax asked for it to get cut a little. It hung in his eyes and Wyatt was brushing his out of his face like a little girl with whispies that had flown away. I could put Wyatt's hair into piggies. When your sons hair can fit into a rubberband, no matter how badly you want to keep it, it's time for a cut.

So, here they are. With foreheads, ears and nape of their necks that haven't been seen for months.

Growing Up

Dax loves to read. And he has a lot of books. And we read them over. And over. And over.

Basically I don't need to "read" him books because I have the majority of them memorized. But Dax does too, so if I ever slip up, he's right there to correct me. It's my favorite when he reads to me at night. He doesn't really read yet, but he recites the books to me. And truth be told, some are really long. And he has them memorized. Every word.

Our favorites around here are Dr. Seuss, Little Critters, Bernstein Bears and anything superhero related. Oh, and as of late the Potty Book which I am ready to burn. A recent fav is one Dax got from his Aunt Jamie for his birthday called "When I Grow Up". It's a rhyming story that gives all sorts of ideas of things kids can be when they grow up in order of the alphabet. It starts, "When I grow up I know I can be, whatever I dream of....". I love the message of it. It teaches how you can be anything you want, from an acrobat to a yodeler, a carpenter to a Quiz show MC and anything in between. It teaches how it doesn't matter what you choose to be when you grow up as long as you choose from your heart.

I've never really heard Waytt or Dax say what they wanted to be when they grow up, but I instantly thought of this book when I saw them running outside the other day changing their apparel from one thing to the next. A cowboy, a fireman, a superhero, a pirate. I started daydreaming, imagining what my little boys are going to grow up to be. Will they choose to put their life on the line each day and become a fireman or police man, will they want to be a rocket scientist or professional baseball player, or a chef or architect?

It's so exciting and so terrifying all at the same time. I panicked. Am I doing everything I should be to mold these little boys? Am I teaching them good habits, principles, values, hard work, and dedication to help them to succeed when they get older? The responsibly as a parent overwhelmed me, which it tends to do from time to time (read: all the time). I guess the panicked showed on my face because Dax asked me what I was "dreaming" about. I told him I wondered what he was going to be when he grew up. He looked at me like I was ridiculous, which he does from time to time (read: all the time). He says to me, "Mom, I'm gonna be Dax." I smiled a great big smile.

I had forgotten and he reminded me. All my worries were put to rest. No matter what my boys grow up to be, they will always be Dax and Wyatt. They will always be brothers and they will always be my boys. And although I don't expect them to always want to be a pirate or a superhero those days will probably come faster than I care to think about it.

So for today, and as long as I can, I'll keep my Dax as the cowboy-pirate-superhero that he is and I'll keep my Wyatt as the horse riding-fireman he is. Because I don't want them to grow up at all.

Dearest Mom

Dear Mom,

I know you love me, but I also know it makes you crazy when I insist on going out in public like this. But mom, I can't help it. I love my "red" boots. And although I know you try to hide them from me and make them disappear, I always find them. I know you would never really throw them away even though sometimes you tell me that you did. Yup, I always find them Oh, and mom, you are not a very good hider by the way, but I would never really tell you that because I like to see the disgust on your face when you see me proudly arrive at the door ready to go in my boots. I know you know I will outgrow these boots one day, but Mom, I promise, I am going to do my very best not to ever let that happen. And I am so glad that it is warming up outside and that I get to wear my boots with shorts. I really think I look awesome. Really, I do. Please pretty please, lets go run more errands so that I can have people tell me I am so cute with my boots on when we are at the store. It makes my day even though you shake your head and laugh. These passer-byers encourage me to always embrace who I am and that's a really good lesson Mom. You better just get used to it. I will always want to wear the shirts that don't exactly match my shorts and I know I can win by throwing a super duper tantrum. I know you would rather let me be me than fight with me. That's another reason why I love you, Mom. And thank Santa for my new Spider man glasses. He really knows me and knew I would love them, but probably not as much as you thought I would. Good thing Santa has my best interest at heart. And Mom, I am pretty comfortable with myself. I think I look pretty good all the time no matter what getup I am in.

Thanks for letting me be me! You're the best!

Love, Wyatt

Swinging through life

Like most kids, my boys love to be outside. We vowed when we moved from Utah we would buy a house with a yard already. No such luck. We fell in love with our house, a spec home at the time, and there was no yard. We live on a corner, so that meant view fencing, it meant only one neighbor to the north of us and it meant a basketball court and greenbelt behind us. We payed to have this premium lot...and it was worth every penny (even if it was thousands and thousands).

But, because of the equity we made on our house in Utah we were a lot quicker about getting our yard in. About 6 months after we moved in we had our backyard. Suddenly our house felt a gazillion times bigger! Tons of grass to race in, plenty of room to play baseball, lots of space to have "car" washes, picnics, camp outs, birthday parties, play dates, barbeque's, water games. It is honestly where we spend most of our time. I have my patio furniture and beautiful annuals surrounding the orange tree and Austin has his three gardens--yes three! (the man is Mr. McGregor). The boys are happy, I'm happy, and Austin is happy.

Christmas came along this year and we are all even happier. Santa brought the boys got a play set. It could not be more perfect. It has the best combo: swings, a glider, monkey bars, a slide, a picnic table, a clubhouse, and a look-out deck. To say the boys love it is an understatement. They play outside everyday for hours. Dax mastered the monkey bars within a few days, Wyatt claimed his captain's wheel and periscope the second he got them, and the have managed not to kill themselves when they ride that crazy glider together. It really was the best Christmas present ever...for all of us.

Today Dax finally figured out how to pump his legs and swing on his own. I was so proud. I love seeing him learn new things and grow.

And all of a sudden, in a blink of an eye, I was disappointed. Horrified actually. Because for all these months I was actually counting those 30 minutes of pushing him on the swing as my physical workout for the day. Some may say that would be a stretch, but in my little world, I also count vacuuming as part of my "workout" routine. I say it's legitimate, but whatever. All's I know is now I can't because he figure out how to swing on his own.

Rats. It's back to the gym for me.

Undies

"Yook at me. I go wee- wee on the potty." --Wyatt, age 2 and 1 month

And in case you were wondering we have an appointment with a booking agent tomorrow.

Yup, I'm pretty sure he's gonna be the next Calvin Klein model with this pose.

Where do kids come up with these things?! What a crack up!

Rainy Days

Rainy days in AZ are sparse. That's not much of a surprise, we do live in a desert! The most rain we've seen since we moved here three years ago have been during the summer monsoons when rain comes and goes in a matter of minutes. We typically wear short sleeves and sandals all year around. So you can imagine our surprise when this winter we've had more rainy days in history and tornado warnings. What?!

Growing up in California I remember the excitement I felt when rainy days came along. It meant lunch in the multi-purpose room, cancelled softball games, walking home from school with no umbrella, sopping wet, and finding popcorn and hot chocolate waiting without fail. My mom always had it ready for us and a movie of her choice...think Anne of Green Gables and Shirley Temple classics. I haven't had much of an opportunity to carry on with one of my favorite childhood memories living in this desert, but finally, this winter we have. The boys now know when it's raining, it's popcorn for snack and hot chocolate to wash it down. Dax trapes around in the rain walking in circles in the backyard just listening to the falling rain pitter patter on his umbrella. Wyatt actually gets to put his rain boots to use and splash in puddles rather than just wear them in 75 degree weather and shorts looking like a fool (a cute fool that is).

I love the dreary, dark days of Arizona showers. I know they are few and far between so I soak up every ounce of it that I can. That means no housework and no errands. It means puzzles pieces and board games all over the floor, piles of laundry to be folded and dishes in the sink. I happen to enjoy the feeling of being cooped up and nowhere to go on these days.

So, you're welcome to visit. We'll for sure be here and we love visitors. But just don't be surprised when you find the three of us under a blanket with buttery popcorn fingers watching Hotel for Dogs in our jammies. We're just enjoying eachother and these rare occasions with no sun.

Oh, and sorry babe, it's Ramen for dinner tonight.