"Boys are found everywhere—on top of, underneath, inside of, climbing on, swinging from, running around or jumping to. Mothers love them, little girls hate them, older sisters and brothers tolerate them, adults ignore them and Heaven protects them. A boy is Truth with dirt on its face, Beauty with a cut on its finger, Wisdom with bubble gum in its hair
and the Hope of the future with a frog in its pocket."
Author: Alan Beck

Monday, April 23, 2012

Back in the saddle...

Yesterday was one of the most amazing days of my life.  It went somewhat like this-

Hubby tells me he has arranged a 'surprise' for me.  Hubby goes on to say it's an all-day surprise that does not involve the sprouts. 

My mind starts spinning.  If you know me well, you know I hate surprises.  Hate is the wrong word.  I loath them.  Despise them.  Entirely.

I begin asking questions such as:

Who is watching the kids?

How long will we be gone?

Where will this take place?

What should I wear?

Can we afford this?

Does this involve white water rafting, bungee jumping, or anything else I wouldn't do?

He refuses to answer.  His silence enrages me.  I begin to piss on his parade.  I spend the morning returning the silent treatment and grumpily packing bags for the boys. 

Very, very grumpily.  (is that a word?)

We pull up to my mom's, kiss the boys and head out.  20 minutes into our silent ride, he reveals the destination - Estes Park.  A smile begins to creep it's way onto my face, but I suppress it.  Oh how I wish I were normal.

We arrive in Estes and the smell instantly reverts my memory to childhood.  No place on earth smells more heavenly.  I'm beginning to crack.

As we eat our lunch, I decide to go ahead and halt the abuse I've been unfairly making him endure.  He's worked hard to make this happen. 

We've got less than 30 minutes left until we 'check in' at our destination, and I make a pinky promise with myself to make the last few minutes enjoyable.  I do my best to stop acting like a jerk.

Is there help for people like me? 

We leave the restaurant and pull up to this sign-

It's now that I really feel like an ass (no pun intended).

Meet Whisky.....MY HORSE for the next two hours.

I'm in instant love, and starting to conjure a plan for squeezing her into our car without being noticed.

We saddled up...
And headed out.

The next two hours were full of this...

and this...

and this...

(Look at that wagon.  It's as if someone placed it there just to tease me.)

My boots have never been so happy.

To my amazing husband-

Please forgive me.

Wednesday, April 11, 2012

And just like that....spring break is over.  The car ride to the bus stop Monday morning was a solemn one.  Two weeks of being at home with no schedule to follow, no homework, and the most BEAUTIFUL weather a boy could ask for was easy to get used to.


I admit it.  I couldn't help but get teary-eyed watching Evan and Luke get on the bus that morning.  Though we didn't travel anywhere, and we didn't really do much of anything, we had a fun time just being lazy with one another.

However, when the boys weren't being lazy with each other, they occupied their time like this-

"He stole my toy!"

"He stuck his tongue out at me!"

"But he stuck his out first!"

"He won't play what I want to play!"

"He said I'm not his favorite brother anymore!"

"He said I don't know how to play basketball....and I DO!"

I started counting their tattles, but lost my cool at 982.....so I stopped.

Oh TATTLE MONSTER, where have you been the past 11 years?

What's that you say?  Someone stuck their tongue out at you?  That's horrible!
But I don't want to hear about it.  Go tell the Tattle Monster.

He took a piece of your gum without asking?  Bummer, dude!
But I don't want to hear about it.  Go tell the Tattle Monster.

That's right.  Unless you've got a bone protruding, blood dripping, or some other form of injury, don't come crying to me.  Tell your tattle to the Monster himself. 

The basket on top of the shelf has little 'tattle-size' papers (perfectly sized and cut by moi), as well as markers, in a rainbow of colors.....depending on what kind of tattling mood you may be in at the time.

During dinner, we gather the days' tattles and the man of the house (yes, hon.....I'm referring to YOU!) reads them aloud.

We talk a wee bit about the tattles, crumple them up, and FORGET ABOUT THEM!

But wait!

There's more!

GOOD TATTLES are also graciously accepted!  In fact, if you are lucky enough to receive a good tattle in the form of-

"He helped me clean up my room!"
"He shared his candy with me!"
(or anything similar to that)

You'll be the lucky recipient of a small token of appreciation, donated by Mom & Dad

Though it's only day three, it's working like a charm! The written tattles are hilarious to read, and the boys are realizing that some tattles just aren't worth writing.

I'm in tattle bliss.

*please note that this is not an Amy original.  I stole the idea from pinterest, of which I'm hopelessly addicted. 


Tuesday, April 3, 2012

Judge Away

If all women were judged by the contents of their purse, I shudder to think what mine declares.