Photobooth Friday: Hugs Edition

Chain Reaction

I was recently asked -- and the pressure was super high -- what my parenting style was. I was reluctant to confess which two sources I relied on the most -- nanny 9-1-1 and a strange article I read about the joys of lazy parenting.

But here's the answer: I watch the exits.

And so it was on a fine sunny morning when my parenting style was put to the test. Two young boys learning to ride bikes is quite a task, even when both parents are involved. One is shy and timid, the other chomping at the bit.

So we granted Cooper his wish, to go around the block. He was not to cross streets, just follow the sidewalk around the block. But, he had another idea. And pretty soon, we couldn't see him and we panicked.

I stayed with shy and timid and started watching the exits -- as it were. We live on a corner and so I was tasked with watching up and down the streets in three directions while my sweet but slightly nervous husband ran around the block.

Pretty soon, Mr. Coop came walking back, pushing his bike, and full of gloom. The chain on his bike had come undone, or whatever it is chains do. He hadn't made it around the block, and pushing the bike he had made much slower progress home.

But the question remains... would it have been better to follow him around the block? Know his every move? Or was watching the exits enough?

Photobooth Friday: B and W

You know it's time for a trip to the dermatologist when you opt for a black and white picture.

Green With Glee

Lots of exciting stuff going on around here. Needless to say, we're green with excitement for all the changes. If you want to stop by, you're always welcome.

The Return of the Sidewalk Chalk

Once the snow melts, I believe the next thing we unearth from the garage is the sidewalk chalk. My heart thaws when I witness the return of the sidewalk chalk. I regain hope for happy days, carefree play, and lazy moments in the shade. And my children have a flood of creativity, again.

It's a simple, archaic joy. The art of disposable expression -- here today and gone tomorrow. Well, actually because this state has very little rain, the works of genius last a week or so. And really, nothing replaces the powdery pleasure of chalk on your hands and cheeks and knees as you dream up extra big game boards, and pictures to walk into.

Frankly, few things are as pleasurable for a mother than when her boys are getting along and sharing the power of both of their brains as they play out their ideas in pastel colors on pavement. This pleasure ends abruptly when the sun sets and both boys march inside, strip down, and leave a trail of grit in their wake. Laundry knows no season.

Splitsville

Mason is working on the splits.

The Universe Loves This Family

I have come to the conclusion that the Universe loves little red coats. Remember this sweet little vest? Favorite vest with the puppy zipper? We lost it. Mom went crazy looking for it. Crazy. You did not want to be a fly on the wall in our house during that month. Yes, a month.

And whenever I loose something I go really berserk thinking of all the things I've lost in my life. (Also, I know I'm switching back and forth between talking for myself and about myself. I do have an education, I just choose to ignore it sometimes.) Anyway, all the things. I was thinking of the super cute flats from Foxmoors that I left at the gymnastics gym in Rigby, Idaho in the 10th grade. And the key fob to the GX that I lost sometime last year, either before or after I lost my blackberry. And the little red, wool pea coat that I loved and then lost about a month after I bought it.

Of course, life goes on, as it does. We went to dinner with some dear friends. And my friend, I tell you, she is so dang cute. Always such a cute little clothes horse. When we checked our coats at the restaurant -- me a long, teal wool coat and she a little red, wool pea coat -- I said, "Gosh I have a coat exactly like that. But I lost it."

That my friends was both the right thing and the wrong thing to say. My sweet friend immediately gave me an account of the mystery of the little red, wool pea coat. Apparently someone, and she had no idea whom, left the little red, wool pea coat at her house about two years ago. And there it has been sitting until just this very night when she decided to wear it. I was that someone who came to her awesome New Year's Eve party, and then left her awesome New Year's Eve party -- after a few cocktails -- and forgot that I had come to her house wearing a little red, wool pea coat, only to leave without it.

Mystery solved. Awkwardness all around.

Fast forward about six days. I go on a hike with my boys. I meet a friend who also has some boys. We actually discuss how downtrodden I feel about loosing the favorite red vest, with the puppy zipper tog. After the hike we decide a picnic lunch is in order and I am elected to go and get lunch. We decide on a restaurant that I have not been to since President's Day. While ordering five kids' meals, a chicken salad sandwich, and something that tasted like fire I realize that this might be the only place I have not dug through a lost and found full of dirty socks, crusty underwear, and hair ribbons (this my friends is the honest to God truth... people loose crusty underwear and other people actually put it in a lost and found bucket).

And then like a chorus of angels, I hear Charlotte Church's operatic renderings in my ears and see beams of light shine down from heaven and settle on none other than the favorite red vest, with the puppy zipper tog. Honestly.

Two red coats, one week, and a million answered whispers. Not exactly prayers, because it's kinda silly to pray about coats when you can afford to buy another one. But you know... I did say, "Where did I put that coat?" about 627 times.

Photobooth Friday: Outdoor Edition

The first hike of the season.

Eyes Wide Shut

If ever you think you're having too much fun, follow my son's advice and close your eyes.

You may think this will shut out all you are enjoying, but you would be wrong. As he explained to me, he closes his eyes not because he is afraid but because he wants to feel more afraid. He also said that when his eyes are closed he can feel his "tummy scream."
Wisdom like this only comes from daring 6-year-olds who still remember that a screaming tummy is worth the effort of a little trial and error, and even some ridicule. I'm just trying to decide which of my chores requires throwing my head back, clenching my eyes tightly shut, and laughing while my tummy screams. Think I'll try it during laundry, first.
Speaking of screaming tummies. Mine is mad at me. The rebellion of the belly button started about six years ago when pictured child was safely swinging from the rafters of my womb. And now, abdominal wall is furious and has attempted to replace any of my constraints by a set of its own.

Photobooth Friday: Have You Seen Me

We are desperately seeking our little red vest. Favorite red vest, with the puppy zipper tog.

Mason and I lost it together, I suspect. Because he was probably wearing it, and then promptly decided I should carry. Anyway, that's what I'm thinking. I am so frustrated that I can't find it. And this is the perfect weather for wearing it. Grrrr...

If it shows up, please bring it over.