Time Marches On...

Last night I attended the parent information session for rising 6th graders.  That's right, middle school.  I sat in the bleachers with tears in my eyes as the stark realization that my baby was going to be one of these smelly, obnoxious creatures.  I have seen this coming-  I mean one day he is playing Legos and the next he wants to download a Wiz Khalifa tune.  I smell the Axe body spray wafting down from his bathroom upstairs, and have seen the looks confirming he believes I am an idiot.  But it wasn't until last night, surrounded by hundreds of them I fully realized he would really be going to this proverbial dark side.

I feel like I am in the first car of the train on a really tall roller coaster.  When you are waiting in line that hill doesn't look so scary, but when you are about to careen head first down your reaction is physical, and it is fear.  Will I/we be enough to stand in the void between this big cruel world and this really good kid and have the scales tip in his favor.  Have we covered him in enough parenting and prayer to get him to adulthood fairly unscathed and mostly virtuous?

Will he know that I don't dislike the young adult he is becoming but I deeply mourn that little kid he leaves behind?

Eventful Easter

One day I will learn to be careful what I wish for. I had all these Pinterest inspired Easter plans in order to make good use of the long weekend. I intended to purposefully make deposits into the boys' memory banks, all the while teaching them about Christ through clever recipes and crafts. After fun filled day of visiting the local creamery, dying Easter eggs, and attending the Good Friday church service we arrived home to make our Resurrection cookies.

This magical moment quickly turned into a spatula sword fight over who was going to get to pour what into the bowl. There was so much chaos, I began screaming the bible verses that corresponded to the recipe actions. Let me just say that my experience did not mimic, at all, the blog post I got the idea from: two adorable little girls dutifully taking in instruction from their mother. Alas, in the confusion a step was missed and our cookies turned into blobs rather then empty tombs. I was, in retrospect, overly upset by the failed experiment.

After the boys went to bed, Chris and I discussed/processed and I told him how sad I get about the boys growing up so fast and the pressure I feel to make special memories for them. ( I also lamented my lack of a daughter, but that is a different story. )

On Saturday we headed up to my in-laws and eventually went for a little hike. Which led to climbing some trees. While this one may look high, it was not the tree that led to this...

As we drove home from the ER with Chase's left arm in a temporary cast, Chris reminded me of my desire to make powerful memories. I suppose I can cross that off the old 'to do' list.

Valentine's Soup

Over the past couple years, we have adopted the tradition of "fancy dinner" to celebrate Valentine's day. Table cloth, candles, and top notch fare mark our celebration. This year we had a crab bisque, steak, baked potato, etc. I am definitely raising two foodies as last year Noel finished his lobster tail before the rest of us had been seated, and Chase was able to identify the Kalamatta olives in the appetizer.
This year it was especially gratifying as the boys were so complimentary and appreciative of the meal. Noel ate the soup like there was no tomorrow only stopping to say, "Thank you Mommy for making Valentine soup." Then he picked up his glass of sparkling cider and insisted we all do "cheers" (this happend approx. 10 times). He finally declared he loved this dinner and this day. I have to admit, I do too!

Hair Prayer

Lately Chase has been sporting a spiked up mohawk (really more of a faux hawk but don't tell him that). He is a totally cool tween these days, and is over the top because he earned an MP3 player by improving his grades this six weeks.
Last night when Noel was in the tub he asked Chris to give him a mohawk, and Chris explained he did not have enough hair to have a mohawk. Noel became somewhat distraught and asked "Why didn't Jesuse give me hair for a mohawk?"

Forgiving Friday

I don't make New Year's resolutions but I have decided to try to be more forgiving of myself this year. Maybe not forgiving but less rigid. For instance, if I blog erractically and don't have the perfect photo to go with my blog, that is o.k. If I buy cookies for the School Christmas party rather than homemaking them, I am not a bad parent. You get the idea.

So, therefore, I decided to pick up the blog again. And what a perfect time, as tonight marks Noel's first trip to the Emergency Room. He is actually there as I type this entry. After we finished a marathon game of hide and go seek, and were preparing the boys for bed, Noel took a big ol' swig of peroxide. Now, I am sure you are wondering how he accessed said peroxide. Well, of course there is a story there. Chase busted the inside of his lip on the trampoline and has been using the proxide he left the cup next to the bathroom sink. Noel has a terrible habit of drinking first and asking questions later.

To add some extra fun to this mix, I had just taken a presrciption muscle relaxer for a headache. Chris called Poison Control, who said to make him drink and that he would likely throw up (which he did several times) but if he did so repeatedly and was in a lot of pain to head to the ER. Since we are a good thirty minures away from said ER, we erred on the side of caution.

So there ya go. I am back, at least for today. And if it is only today, well, that is okay too.

2 out of 3

So, I had planned to write three funny Noel stories, as it turns out I can only think of two of them now that I have a spare moment to myself. So without further adieu or forgetfulness...

The first happend on Good Friday where, as Catholics, we venerate the cross. We do this by going forward in a line to kiss the feet of the crucified Jesus. As we went up Noel wanted to know what we were doing, so I told him we were kissing Jesus' boo-boos just like I did for him to make him feel better. Noel went up and dutifully kissed the feet of Christ, and as we walked back to our pew he loudly stated, "Jesus got bad boo-boos! How did Jesus get such bad boo-boos?"

The other little tale has been ongoing. Chris' sister is expecting her first baby any minute now. Everytime Noel sees her and we talk about the little boy in her tummy, he states that he has a little boy in his tummy. He has gotten more and more adamant about his little boy and the last time we were all together he insisted everyone be careful around his belly. He also told his Nanny that his baby was named "little Noel".

Hopefully, I will think of the other little funny and have a spare second to write it down. If not, there are plenty more where these came from.

An Easter Surprise!

If you knew me well, as the four people who follow this blog do. You would know I am the last person who would welcome a rodent into their house. So, I can honestly not explain what possessed me to decide to get the boys a bunny for Easter. Even more unlikely is the fact that Chris agreed to this wacky idea. So much so that all Chase could say all day is "I can't believe you got us a bunny, but I really can't believe Dad let you!"

Nevertheless, I became slightly obsessed with the notion of greeting the boys with their very own rabbit on Easter morning. So, a few phone calls and some internet research later and on

Saturday afternoon I picked up this little girl. I wanted to name her Maisy. Chase did not care for that, but offered Daisy. Noel wanted to name her Parker (coincidentally, his best friend's name).

The boys are totally infatuated. Buddy is not amused. And I am no longer the only girl in the house. Well, sort of, Daisy lives on the porch but comes in to hang out.

We had a wonderful Easter even though Chris' dad ended up in the hospital. We had much to be thankful for as his chest pain was not a heart attack but a warning sign of a blockage and as of this post he is recooperating at home.