Summer Nights

Q: What do you get when you combine a kiddie pool, a water slide, banana popsicles and two crazy toddlers?

A: The perfect summer evening.

This is where Justin finds us most nights when he gets home from work. With the exception of the break we have to take to eat dinner, the kids spend almost every waking hour between naptime and bedtime in this pool in the backyard on any given evening.

Have I mentioned how much I love summer?

Pride in my ride

When you spend the morning mowing the grass and roaring through the dirt on a Barbie ATV, there's only one logical way to spend the afternoon.

So when the kids woke up from their naps, I pulled out the carwash bucket and supplies, as promised, and let them get to work scrubbing their toys clean. Abby was particularly thorough with her cleaning of every little pink and purple crevice on her vehicle. Caleb was a bit more whimsical, preferring to dunk his washcloth (and most of his arms) into the soapy water and then let it drip all over his lawnmower, rather than go to the effort of actually bending over and wiping the dirt off.

I'm thinking next week I might back the swagger wagon out of the garage and let the kids scrub the bottom two feet for me.

On second thought...maybe not.

Each little flower that opens...

Me: "Abby, do you know who made those flowers?"

Abby: "Jesus."

Me: "That's right! Jesus made those flowers. Do you know why He made them?"

Abby: "To be beautiful."

She gets it.

Being wonderful

I tend to go on and on about how much I love my job. And I do. And that's why Father's Day is more than just a Hallmark holiday to me. It's an excuse to do something extra special for the guy who puts up with my antics and these crazy kids, and who makes this life I love possible.

As I was helping Abby sign her card to her dad on Sunday morning I reminded her that it was Father's Day. "What's that mean?" she asked.

"It's a day when we thank daddies for being wonderful," I explained.

"Oh," she replied, matter-of-factly. "I'm going to go tell Daddy thank you for being wonderful." And she proceeded to do just that.

So to the man who gets up early every morning and works hard so that I can have the privilege of being home to care for these kids, thank you.

To the man who often arrives home to chaos and helps me get things back under control and back in perspective, thank you.

To the man who spent half the day in shock when that first pregnancy test read "positive," then called me from work to tell me he was excited, thank you.

To the man who wondered how in the world he'd raise a little girl and who is doing a fabulous job of it, thank you.

To the man who will show our boys what it means to be a man, thank you.

To the man who stood up and high-fived me across the table when I told him we had another one on the way, thank you.

To the man I'd marry all over again, the man I couldn't imagine being on this adventure called parenthood without, thank you.

Today and everyday, I'm proud to hear our kids call you Daddy.

Happy Father's Day, Justin.

Kids at heart

I'll be honest. I didn't make plans to take the family to the National Air & Space Museum's "Be A Pilot" Day because I knew the kids would love it. Nope. I did it because for Father's Day weekend, I knew there was probably nothing my husband would love more than to wander around the airfield looking at (and climbing in) a bunch of old airplanes. The fact that Papa was able to join us was the icing on the cake.

It's hard to go wrong when a retired fighter pilot and a young airplane buff get together to wander around a field of aircraft with two toddlers who love anything with wings (or rotors). Caleb was on cloud nine pointing out and sitting in things that go "zoom!" and Abby got to try her hand at buckling and unbuckling every seatbelt in every airplane or helicopter we passed. I think Justin and my dad had almost as much fun as the kids, and my mom and I were content to follow them around like paparazzi snapping pictures of all the picture perfect moments.

The kids showed their appreciation by taking incredible naps when we got home, and my husband showed his gratitude by cooking us a delicious dinner on the Big Green Egg. I'd say our Father's Day weekend got off to a pretty successful start.

Waitin' on Critter: Week 19

Sons are a heritage from the Lord, children a reward from him.

--Psalm 127:3

It's more than just a gut feeling now. Today's ultrasound confirmed that we are, in fact, welcoming another baby boy into our family in November (November 2, according to my OGDDDP).

I'll admit, I'm totally thrilled. The three boys I babysat through high school laid a great foundation for my current love of trucks, dirt, trains and noise. I'm looking forward to adding to the fun and mayhem in our house with the arrival of Abby and Caleb's little brother in the fall.

Everything looked great on the ultrasound, and Critter proved to be an active little fellow. He never stopped squirming, turning, moving and wiggling as the tech tried to get a good look at him. And when he got tired of being poked and prodded, he poked and prodded back with a few sharp kicks and punches of his own. His movements are getting easier and easier to discern, and like his big brother before him, he's packing a lot of strength into that tiny little fetal body. Our estimate is that he weighs about 10 ounces and is over 6 inches long, head to rump. Only five months and a few more pounds to go before we get to meet our little guy!

Praise God with us for his healthy development and a good report at today's appointment! We continue to pray that he will grow strong and healthy in the womb as he prepares for his birthday, and that he will continue to grow in wisdom and stature and favor with God and man thereafter (Luke 2:52).

Within reach

If you love airplanes and you live anywhere in the near Washington, D.C., you've probably already been to Gravelly Point, and you don't need me to tell you about it.

For everyone else's sake, allow me to explain just how stinking cool this park is.

Located at the northern end of one of Reagan National Airport's runways is a small strip of land bordered by the Potomac and open to the public. And that's where we planted ourselves Sunday night to wave goodbye to Nana's airplane and watch Caleb's eyes light up every time a plane took off right over his head.

At this particular spot the airplanes are so close, in fact, that every time one would lift off our little guy would dash toward it yelling "zoom," convinced, I think, that if he were a few feet closer he could probably touch it. We had to constantly chase him and pull him back to where we were sitting to keep him from trying to cross the Potomac and get on the tarmac.

We only lasted about an hour before the sandwiches ran out and the heat started to get to us, but it was an hour well spent. It looks like this is a field trip worth repeating.

Show stopper

You know how there's always that one kid in the school play or the church concert that's just hamming it up, oblivious to the audience, having a great time for a great time's sake? I've always wondered what that kid's parents were thinking as they watched, helpless, from the front row.

Now I know.

Abby definitely surprised us with her enthusiasm at her inaugural ballet recital and dress rehearsal. I fully anticipated coming home with a video of my precious daughter in her precious tutu standing frozen on stage, too distracted by the lights, the audience, and the parental paparazzi to recreate any of the routine she's been practicing for the past six months. Much to my surprise, she did just the opposite.

Not only did she and the rest of her small troupe of 2- and 3-year-olds actually remember the steps of the routine, Abby got so into it that she almost twirled herself right off the stage.

The routine started out slowly, with the girls calmly waving their scarves in front of them. But the very next move--a series of twirls--really got things going. Abby spun once, then again, and when she spun back to face the audience, the look on her face told me that she was loving her few minutes of fame up on that big stage. She proceeded to do the rest of the routine--the hand motions, the jumps--all while continuing to spin. She twirled so long and so fast that she lost her place in line and twirled dangerously close to the edge of the stage before her instructor caught her and brought her back to her spot. Unfortunately, by that point she was so dizzy that she couldn't have stood in one place if she'd tried.

I certainly can't say she was the most graceful one on stage. Nor was she the most composed. She was by far the cutest, though, and our little ballerina had a blast at her first performance. In that regard, I'd say the recital couldn't have gone better.

Short-haired hippies

There's a fine line between an adventurous spirit and pure foolishness. It lies somewhere around the place where a mom thinks it's a great idea to load three kids ages 3 and under into the van, drive to the craft store for supplies, then come home and let a 1-, 2-, and 3-year-old tie dye their own t-shirts.

But we survived, and I'm sticking by what I said before. Life's more fun when you're making a mess. Oh, and there's a reason the kids are sitting still in all my photos. When they're on the move, it takes every bit of concentration I have to contain them. In the presence of mayhem, there is an absence of pictures.

First, we soaked our t-shirts on the back deck. (Translation: the kids dunked their shirts repeatedly in water, then slung their water-logged weapons at each other, then splashed until what little water remaining was no more.)

When the water was all gone, Caleb lost interest and wandered into the backyard to look for sticks. Abby and Maddie stuck around for the promise of soon-to-be painting and tried unsuccessfully to twist their shirts the way I showed them. I praised their efforts, then while they carried our supplies into the backyard, I did it for them.

Then the foolishness really kicked in. The girls chose their colors, then I handed Maddie and Abby bottles of permanent fabric dye and gave them instructions to "squeeze the bottle and make circles." I showed them how on my shirt and the one I was making for Caleb, then turned them loose. They took their work pretty seriously, and ended up making some decent circles in blue, pink and yellow. Although the vigor with which they squeezed the bottles left me convinced their shirts were going to come out dyed completely brown, they actually did a great job.

When we were done, I told them we had to wait for our shirts to dry. So they blew on them.

I explained they had to dry for a very long time, and told them we needed to put their shirts in bags and bring them inside. I explained that the dye had to set for 6-8 hours and was rewarded with blank stares all around. So I explained that the shirts would be done after naps, and promised to let them wear their creations just as soon as they were ready. That seemed to do the trick.

And the final results? Some very happy--and very colorful--children. I asked Abby if she liked our new shirts (which we all wore out to dinner).

"This is an awesome tie dyed shirt, Mommy!" she replied. I guess that's a yes.

What all the giggling was about...

Caleb wasn't exactly thrilled to be forced into an oh-so-girly morning of playing dress up. But he was a good sport about it, and chose wisely, alternately bringing me the Superman costume and the giant M&M to change into and skillfully preventing his sister and her dear friend Madison from draping anything glittery or poofy on him.

The girls couldn't have had more fun if they tried. When it was over, Abby's room was a disaster and we'd spent over an hour transforming into ballerinas, butterflies, pirates, princesses and more.

This little $5 toy box, and the loose change I've invested in its frilly contents at neighborhood yard sales, might just be one of the most valuable things we own.

Body art

The afternoon was going really well, until I yielded my decision-making authority and asked the wrong question.

"What do you guys want to do?" I asked my energetic children.

"Paint!" exclaimed Abby. "Paint! Paint!"

"Bah-ya!" shouted Caleb, chiming in his word for backyard with equal enthusiasm, gesturing toward the windows. "Bah-ya! Bah-ya!"

Hmmmm. Now what to do, I wondered. I had anticipated Abby having an opinion on the afternoon's activities, and since she typically suggests things that are well within reason, I was prepared to follow through with whatever she came up with. What I didn't anticipate was Caleb disagreeing so readily and having a suggestion of his own. I took a mommy moment to decide on my next move.

Problem solved, I thought. We'll paint in the backyard. That should make everyone happy.

I announced my plans, changed my happy children into crafting clothes and painting aprons, and headed for the craft closet. Armed with a box of paints and a giant piece of posterboard, we marched into the backyard.

The kids totally got into the whole outdoor painting thing, and were both pretty creative with their use of pine branches (Caleb) and dandelions (Abby) as paintbrushes.

But then Abby decided it would be fun to paint her toenails. And her feet. And her arms.


And it looked like so much fun, that Caleb (who had long since lost his apron), decided to do the same.


And when they were done, Abby wanted to sign her name to her artwork, which by this time included her brother. She managed to scribble an "A" onto his back and was beginning work on a lower case "b" but he ran away before she could finish her signature.

And there you have it. Yet another example of how life is more fun when you're making a mess.

Waitin' on Critter: Week 17

Take a good look. Now you know how I feel.

It's sad to watch your toes slowly disappear. But it sure is fun to be totally unconcerned with getting in shape for beach season.

Round is a very nice shape, thank you.