If only they'd stay little forever.

Evan woke up at 4 AM screaming, hysterical, body shaking sobs. I don't know why.

Scott went in first, and usually that is not an issue. Evan will go right back to sleep.

Not last night.

All I heard through the monitor was, "I (sob) w-AAA-NT (sob) Mah (sob) Mah (sob)(sob)(sob)"

Heartbreaking.

I waited one minute to see if he would calm down, but once again I heard crying and, "I (sob) w-AAA-NT (sob) Mah (sob) Mah (sob)(sob)(sob)"

I went in and held his little sobbing body. He just kept alternating crying and sobbing with hugging and kissing me.

He eventually calmed down and went back to bed, and back to sleep. He never told me what got him so upset. Poor little guy.

Just when I thought they were getting so big and grown up, the little loves make me feel needed. I hope I can always calm their fears and hug and kiss their tears away. But realistically, how long will it be before Momma's hugs and kisses are not needed or wanted? A week? A year? Ten?

For now, I'm going to savor every minute that only Momma can make it better.

Pictures from the last few weeks.

Reading at Grandma's

Piano lessons anyone?



Lunch with Mrs. Finch before the pumpkin patch.

Pumpkin patch with our classmates.

Can you guess how long it took to get this picture?
Thirteen three year olds do not sit still for pictures. EVER.

Corn Maze!

Hay Ride!

Sea World with our friends from Idaho.

Jumping off things, one of our new favorite activities.

One really tired pup.

Over the weekend Scott and I returned to an old favorite BC activity.

We played in the US Nationals Kayak Polo Tournament in Los Angeles.

I've/we've competed in a few of these over the years, usually trained pretty hard leading up to the competition, and usually pretty focused on competition.

This year, totally different story. Prior to this weekend, I'd been in my polo boat exactly 4 times in the last four plus years. Even after I put this rag tag team together, I still only managed to get on the water and play a couple of times.

I kept telling myself this is just for fun. This is just for fun. I had no belief that we'd even win a game, score a goal or do anything but have a good time.

I kept telling our team to just have fun. Fun we did. Our first few games were rough, but we held tough and started to gel. By the end of the tournament, we were winning games, and playing really well together. So well in fact we came in second in our division. We beat one of the strongest teams in our division, and played the first place team to three one goal games throughout the weekend, including the final.

It was so. much. fun!!!!!

In my bad mommy moment of the weekend. I missed my baby's debut.

For those of you who know Evan, you know his obsession with black speakers, microphones, and the National Anthem. When we got to the tournament on Saturday Evan heard the announcements for up coming games and assignments, he was pretty excited. I had gone off to scout our competition, and I guess Evan wanted to go talk on the microphone and hear it come out of the black speakers.

Then, my little performer took over.

He got the microphone in his hand and belted out the National Anthem. For whatever reason, I didn't hear him, but he sang the whole thing facing the American Flag (another obsession).

I cannot believe that no one got a picture.
I cannot believe that no one got this on video.

I cannot believe I missed it.

ARGGHH. I know there will be things I miss as the boys grow up, but...man, I don't like it.

Could he be any sweeter?

Ryan woke up from his nap, and we were playing with his cars. I suddenly realized he wasn't wearing his glasses. Bad Momma forgot to get them and have him put them on.

Me: Oh, you are missing something.
Ry: (Laughing) No I'm NOT! (giggle, giggle)
Me: Yes you are! What are you missing?
Ry: Evan. (pauses) Can Evan wake up and play cars with me?
Me: (heart melting)

It's the process

So one of the things in my life that I've had to work really hard not to pass on to my boys is my intense perfectionism. Scott tells me all the time that no one can be as perfect as I want them to be. Sometimes this need for perfection leaves me paralyzed into inaction, because I know I cannot do something the right way, so I cannot even begin the task. I'm sure much of this stems from a childhood with really high expectations. While my parents were very supportive and always urged me to "just do my best" I do remember hearing (many times) after bringing home an A- "what's wrong, why wasn't it an A?" It's that, and well, most likely a marker on my DNA that makes me this way. I like to believe I can't help myself. =)

With raising the boys I've really fought myself while working on art projects or crafts to let them be, to let them create in their own way. I've restrained myself from picking out every last piece of mixed up play dough, and just let it become a purplish mess.

What helps me in this refocusing of my energies is reminding myself that it is really about the process of creating. The act of painting, or rolling or baking is so much more important than the final product.

A couple of days ago we went to our local craft store, and I saw these little paper mache pumpkins. We, the boys and I, thought this would be a "super fun" craft project, "of course" (Ryan's new favorite affirmative reply).

I bought orange and brown paint to make the pumpkins and the stem. The boys had different ideas.

Um, Evan's pumpkin...it's red.
"Mommy, it has to be red, because I LIKE red."


What it is, well it is a globby, red, black, orange and brown mess, centered in the area around the stem with little or no paint anywhere else on the poor pumkin beautiful red-ish pumpkin.


Ryan used all colors available to him, which blended together also created another globby, red, black, orange and brown, almost purple mess, centered in the area around the stem with little or no paint anywhere else on the poor pumkin beautiful pumpkin.


But during the PROCESS...they had so much fun, piling more and more paint on their pumpkins so much so I was afraid that they would fall apart. And now they love that their "pumpkins are watching them eat. Are they happy?" (Yes, Evan, they are very happy)


As if that wasn't enough "growing" for me, today, I decided to have them help me make their snack for school tomorrow. With some input from the boys, we decided on pumpkin muffins and apples as what we would bring to share with our friends.

While they were napping, I got everything prepped. The dry, the eggs, the pumpkin, all measured and ready to go. They helped me pour, mix, and dump ingredients into the mixer.

And now this is the point in which I grow, I REALLY GROW.

The boys "helped" me spoon out the batter into the muffin tins. This started getting a little messy, and my first instinct was to quickly put an end to this foolishness, and get them the heck out of my kitchen so I can finish these muffins and start dinner. But...





I took a breath, and got my camera and started composing this blog post in my head.


And this is what I ended up with.


Yes, it was a mess, and yes, I had a bit of fixing up to do before these could go in the oven, but the PROCESS...and this look on their faces...


totally, totally worth every second. Made me so, so happy that I took that breath, and that I let the mayhem continue.

Because really, I hardly think that the discerning eye of a preschooler can tell which muffins were neatly placed in each hole, and which were smeared across every available surface. Do you?


And what my precious boys will remember is how much fun they had making (and then snitching) muffins for their classmates.

And I hope that what I will remember is that things don't have to be perfect to be perfect.

Back to School night

We had our first EVER back to school night last night. The boys were so excited to share with us their classroom, their teacher and their classmates.

Mrs. F told us a story about Evan and these pancakes.


She was trying desperately to get him to come and join the class for "meeting" (its how they start their day, they talk about what they are going to do, the general theme for the day, etc.)
Evan, please come over and join us she asked, and he wouldn't budge. He just kept playing with these pancakes. Evan, can you explain why you won't come over and join the class, what's the problem. Evan replied "The pancakes are not done yet!"

Mrs. F thought that was A-DOR-A-BLE! She asked him to join the class when the pancakes were ready, and maybe he could share some with everyone. He did, and he shared quite a description of the activity.


He spent nearly the entire hour we were there flipping and cooking his pancakes, counting blueberries, and generally having a great time.

Ryan spent most of the night on the floor with the 5,000 plus blocks.

I've always known that the boys have very different personalities, and interests, but it is so interesting, or fun, to see it manifest itself outside our home. Even when I go to pick up the boys, they are sitting at different tables with different friends. The glimpses I get from the photos our teacher posts shows them engaging in different activities, with and without each other.

It is such an amazing (and sad, and glorious, and wonderful) thing to watch your children grow and develop as little human beings. Individuals.