Short Lived

There's nothing like seeing your children happy together. Smiling and laughing. Enjoying one another's company. It makes my heart swell with happiness. I was so happy to see this sweet exchange between Jack and Will. Smiling and giggling at each other like the best of friends. And then I left the room, smiling and so proud of my boys. I thought, "Wow. I am so thankful to have witnessed such a special moment." Upon returning to the room, I realized that my moment of happiness was short lived.

I returned to find this...

Jack had removed his shorts and was bent over sticking his bare bottom on my precious, innocent little baby.

And when just sticking his bottom in Will's face wasn't enough, he then rested it on my baby's face.

Jack was thoroughly enjoying himself, flashing the biggest grin and giggling loudly. And my poor, naive Will. He ,too, was laughing and squealing as he patted his big brother's bottom. So just when I think it's safe to leave the room, Jack shows me, at the expense of his innocent, younger brother, that it really isn't.

My Cowboy

 Mamas,

 don't

 let

your

babies

grow

  up

 to

be

 cowboys.

4.5

Today you are four and a half. Four and a half. Why, oh why, are you growing up so fast? My heart can't take it. I adore who you are, at the midpoint between four and five. And I never, ever want to forget all that makes you, you today...

sweet...inquisitive...Davy Crockett...fast shoes...cowboys...kindness..."I love you all the way to heaven"...brushing your teeth until they are "shiny"...size 6/7 clothes...cautious...tender hearted...stubbornness...dressing up...preschool...Daddy's best friend...persistent..."What would Davy Crockett do?"...long sleeve pants...sleeping late...tall...carrying you to the playroom in the mornings..."I need a snack before I can go to sleep"...cap guns...compassionate...swimming...questions about heaven..."I'm so tired I just don't know what to do"...blue jeans...belt buckles..."Are my boots right?" ...concerned...costumes...sweet spirit...big brother...responsible...silly...shy..."Mama, don't worry, I'll always be your baby"..."Boone the mountain"...learning new things...practicing writing...size 13.5 shoes...my helper...my buddy...my sunshine.

When I pick you up and carry you now, I notice that your legs hang well below my knees. And I can't believe it. Just yesterday you were wearing onesies and sitting sweetly on my hip. And today you are so big, so tall. I'm overwhelmed by your spirit and so amazed by your heart. You make me happier than you'll ever know and I am so thankful that you are my son. I love you. To the moon and back.

Rainy Day Fun

Today we received a little much needed rain.  The boys and I ran errands and returned home after lunch.  Jack ran straight inside and returned from his room with his rain boots and rain coat.  

"What do you think you're doing?" I asked.  

"My going outside in the rain!"  

"Oh, no, you can't."

"Yes, my can."

"No, you may get sick if you run around in the rain."

"It's okay, Mama.  My will keep my mouth shut, okay?"

So I agreed.  Because he had so nicely promised to keep his mouth shut, which would of course keep him from getting sick.

He ran and laughed and splashed through puddles.  And he got very mad and frustrated that his boots kept getting water in them.  He continuously sat down and dumped out his boots, complaining the entire time.

Running through our soaked yard and driveway.  Giggling and grinning and celebrating the simple things. What a perfect way to spend an afternoon.

My Boy

I love a clean house.  And a good vacuum.  And while my house can often be found in a state of disarray, I enjoy those moments when everything is in it's place.   I don't function well with a messy house, yet most days I'm required to function in a mess.  I am constantly picking up toys, wiping up messes and gathering dirty clothes. Many days I am certain that my boys are conspiring against me.   And then they completely redeem themselves by choosing to eat their chips over an open box to avoid dropping crumbs everywhere.  My sweet, crumb-catching Sam.  A boy after my own heart.

Every Time

Every time he sees me, this is his reaction...

He is sweet and loving and his smile lights up my days. I don't know what I did to deserve his adoration, but I sure am grateful for it.

Slow Down, Sweetie

It started out simple enough. About a month ago I noticed my then nearly six month old hanging out at the step leading to the playroom. I would place him in the middle of the floor, surround him with toys and he would instantly crawl to the step.  He examined it for a few days before figuring out how to do this... 

Soon, he was crawling to the step and instantly standing.  I was surprised to say the least, but relieved that the step was the only spot that he would practice standing.  He took a few tumbles and bruised his forehead, which resulted in the installation of a foam bumper on the step.

Within a few days, I caught my boy trying his new trick in other places.  Anything he could use to pull himself up by was used.  He soon learned how to pull up on nearly all his toys.  He would squeal in delight as he stood and giggle and babble as he enjoyed his new found freedom.

Soon, he moved from his toys to his brother's and his fearlessness caused me to cringe on more than one occasion.  I was simply not ready for my baby to be standing so soon.  He's just too young, too little, too new.

But stand he does.  Regardless of how much it worries his Mama.  Or how many times he tumbles.  And I find myself begging him to please slow down.  Please, please sweetie.  Please stop growing so fast.  Will, I need you to stay a baby just a little longer.  Or for your entire life if you don't mind.  

The Fab Five

The fab five.  Together again on an adventure through the woods.  Through the cow gates.  Under electric fences.  Dodging cows and cow pies.  Best buddies.  Spotting baby frogs.

Up steep hills.  Giving me heart failure.  Throwing rocks.  Using sticks as swords.  Sliding down hills.  Walking through the creek.

Muddy feet.  Stripping off clothes.  Throwing sand.  Yelling.  Sitting on logs.  Laughter.  Fun times.  Memories.

Overboard

"Jack, can you help Mama and give Will a few more puffs and a cookie?"

"Okay, Mama."

And so he did. And this is what happened...

A little excessive. In fact, he used the entire new container of puffs and dumped all the remaining cookies from the bag.

"Jack, what in the world? Why did you give him so many? You gave him all of it, honey."

"It's okay, Mama. He is really, really hungry."

So he went a little overboard in the snack distribution. But he sure made someone happy...

Nearly Three

Jack.  My nearly three year old baby.   Do you know how much I love you?  More than you can imagine, more than you can dream, more than you can believe.  I adore your spunk and spirit and those chocolate eyes of yours melt my heart on a daily basis.  As you approach the tender age of three, I want you to know how much I love who you are today.  

I love...

the way you insist on wearing your cowboy boots without socks and often on the wrong feet and when I try to correct you, you flash me a grin and say, "It' okay, Mama.  It's okay."...that you still ask me at least once every day for a milk cup and my hair.  I happily oblige even when it means I am sitting by you on the couch with my head tilted in an uncomfortable position so that you can twist my hair around your fingers...you say "my" instead of "I" or "me" ...the way you say "Daddy" in the sweetest, most loving tone...you freely give hugs and kisses...you still feel little in my arms...you participate in television shows like Dora and Blue Clues., answering questions and repeating words.  Sam never did this so I love watching you...your affection for chocolate milk and jelly biscuits...your knowledge of cows...the fact that you are potty trained and it took no effort on my part, you just did it...hearing you sing...watching you run...that I can whisper " I love you" in your ear after you've fallen asleep and you whisper, "My love you, too."...staring into your warm eyes...watching you dress up like a cowboy...seeing your love of life...the way you try to make me smile or laugh when you're in trouble...that you never hold a grudge...the way you call peanut butter sandwiches "peanut butter pies"...that you wear your underwear backwards so you can see the superheroes...your easy going attitude...your love of vacuum cleaners, you've loved them since birth (just like your Mama)...the baby voice you use when playing with Will...snuggling with you...taking care of you...being your Mom...spending my days with you...everything.  Everything about you, sweet boy.

The Baby You

Will, you are growing so fast. Much, much faster than I like. I see you changing every day and learning new, exciting things. Yet, there are things about you now that I want to remember forever. Precious things about the baby you...

When you are tired, you rub your eyes in a perfect, intentional, circular motion. I remember reading books before Sam was born that said a cue that your baby is sleepy is when he rubs his eyes. Since your older brothers never did this, I was convinced that babies probably don't actually rub their eyes like a sleepy child or adult. I was amazed to see that at an early age, you would rub you eyes before falling asleep. And now, this is part of who you are. Also, when you are tired, your left eyelid turns red. Just your left eyelid and it happens every time you are sleepy. I watch the redness fade away as you sleep, knowing it will return the next time you are tired.

You giggle when you realize I am about to nurse you. It is the sweetest thing, a giggle full of excitement and love. You look up at me and smile as I feed you and will even stop nursing, look up at me, laugh and then begin nursing again. This sweetness sure helps overshadow the times you bite me! You always reach out with one of your arms as I feed you and will either grab hold of my shirt or wrap your hand around my fingers. You hold on tightly until you are done and then gently release my hand or shirt. It seems that you hold on to me, forcing me to stay there next to you. If only you knew, I'm not going anywhere sweet boy.

You fit perfectly next to me. When we I lay you beside me, I pull you close to me and you fit perfectly against me. No matter how much you grow, you still curl up perfectly beside me. Your legs curl up near my lap and your chest rests perfectly on mine. And your sweet, soft head rests under my neck, perfectly. All is right with the world when you are cuddled beside me.

That laugh. You have the best laugh. Full of joy and innocence. And you laugh over anything. If I nuzzle your neck, or tickle your thigh, or make a silly face, you reward me with that adorable cackle of yours. Your laugh is the music I dance through my days to. It sustains me when I'm exhausted and in my constant reminder of how blessed I really am.

You squeal, yell and growl like a wild man. When your brothers are being loud, you chime in and make your fair share of noise. You drive Sam and Jack crazy in the car because you "talk" so loudly when they are trying to watch a movie. They say, "Will, I can't hear!" and you respond by yelling or growling louder. You can also make noises that sound like a wild cat and a raccoon. At such a young age, you can often be the loudest one in the room.

More than anything I don't ever want to forget how you look at me. Your love for me is so obvious and I am so lucky to be on the receiving end of your sweetness. You cry when you lose sight of me and giggle with relief when I scoop you up in my arms. Many times when you are fussy, you need nothing more than to be held and kissed by me. I am so grateful for the opportunity to take care of you and make you happy. You repay me with your endless smiles and infectious laughter. I am so thankful to know you as my son and I can't imagine my life without you. My baby. I am so blessed to be your Mama and I love you so very much.

"Sam the Cowboy"

Sam.

Currently obsessed with cowboys.

Refers to himself as "Sam the Cowboy."

"Sam the Cowboy" is meticulously dressed in jeans, boots, belt with a large buckle, button down shirt, bandanna tied around his neck at the exact length he sees fit, cowboy hat and either a rifle or pistol loaded with caps.

Asks over and over "Does Sam the Cowboy...?" as if he is an entirely different person and he is learning things about him through whomever will answer his never ending questions.

Cried yesterday at preschool because he thought he was the only kid in his class that couldn't write their full name.

Will practice his writing at home for minutes before becoming frustrated and stomping off, mumbling something about letters and dots under his breath.

Sam plus mountain dew equals a rat on acid and a long evening for his Mama. Anyone who loves me or cares about my sanity will never, ever give him the dew again. Ever.

Tells me he misses me when we're apart. I love this about him.

Obsessive about his appearance. Loves looking at himself. We catch him staring at his reflection in the french doors in the kitchen all the time.

Loves to pray.

My harshest critic.

Watches "King of the Hill" every night with his Daddy. He refers to it as "the show where the men stand on the street and drink beer" and he can do an awesome Boomhauer impression. Let it be known that I do not approve.

Tells me "You're the best Mama, ever" when I let him snack before bed or load his pockets with caps. He will even ask me, "Okay, do you want to be the best Mama or not?" before asking me for something. Little stinker.

Tender hearted and kind. Hates to disappoint people.

A worrier which, in turn, worries his Mama.

Wonderful to Will.

Can have the world's biggest meltdown over the craziest things. Like thinking someone can see his "ninnie pies" through the small opening between the buttons of his shirt. Seriously.

Loves to sneak up on me and scare me and recently discovered that wearing his Davy Crockett moccasins are the quietest way to walk through the house undetected.

Looks after Jack at preschool and wants to eat lunch with him every day. This makes me so proud and so, so happy.

Asked me the other day after inspecting my eyelashes, "Mama, how did you end up in this family when you have such short eyelashes?" To which I informed him that: 1. I can't help the length of my lashes. 2. Yes, I realize I am the only one in our family with stubby lashes. 3. Just because his lashes are so great doesn't mean he has to make others, like myself, feel inferior. Thank you very much.

Asks me all the time when he will be old enough to have a real gun. Lord, help me.

Never fails to tell me that he loves me.

My sunshine. Always my sunshine.

A Letter to My Son

My Sweet Jack,

Today when I prepared to leave you at preschool, you clung tightly to my leg and firmly told me, "I go with you, Mama." I walked with you into your room and tried to distract you. We did a puzzle together and I tried then to leave. You again clung tightly to me and begged me to take you home. I walked with you to the fellowship hall and talked with you, telling you all the reasons you needed to stay. You still begged to leave. I walked you back to your room and Meme came over to walk you in. When you realized I was leaving, you fell to the floor crying. Meme scooped you up and carried you inside as I disappeared down the hall. I sat in the lobby, listening to you cry and I struggled over what I should do. I walked to my vehicle, buckled Will in and forced myself to drive away. I waited anxiously for word on how you were and was so relieved when Meme called just a few moments after I arrived home to tell me you were fine and playing happily. I was so relieved and thankful. I am sure that you will likely have no memory of this morning and that you are, indeed, just fine. Why am I telling you this? I want you to know that leaving you this morning was one of the hardest things I've ever had to do. My heart broke as I walked away from you. I knew I could wrap my arms around you and take you home and bring an end to your tears. Leaving you was agonizing for me and I waited anxiously to pick you up, hug you and see that you were okay. I have worried all day about my decision to leave you and can only hope that if one day you read this, you'll understand how hard today was for me. I love you, Jack. More than you'll ever know.

Love,

Mama

Mr. No Sleep

My precious, sweet little baby refuses to sleep.  Absolutely refuses.  He woke up at 2 am and squealed and laughed until falling asleep four hours later.  And because at times my children conspire against me, Sam woke up at 6:15, just as I was drifting to sleep.  Will was back up at eight and napped for twenty minutes in the car as we ran errands around lunch time.  We went to Ally's and he fell asleep on the way back home, nearly three hours later.  I laid him in his crib and he slept ten minutes.  Ten minutes!  And now at nearly 10 pm, I have finally gotten him to sleep again.  I'm wondering how on earth he can function with such little sleep.  And if lack of sleep isn't bad enough, he is officially suffering from some major separation anxiety.  When he wakes up in his crib, he cries the most pitiful, heartbroken cry.  And if I walk out of the room, or if he loses sight of me, he cries hysterically until I scoop him up in my arms and reassure him that I'm still here.  Needless to say, these changes in his sleep habits and personality make things a little more difficult for me around our house.  Lucky for him, he's ridiculously adorable and just plain irresistible.  Even at 2 am.

He is Here

Nearly eighty years separates them.  A lifetime.  Exactly four years ago he began strolling Sam around the farm.  It seems like forever ago.  And Sam fell in love with him and spent some part of every day with him.  Jack bears his name and adores him as well.  And while I'm sad that he can't get around quite like he used to, and he may never accompany Will to the barn, I am grateful that he is here.  Next door. He is here and his lap is always ready for them.  He absolutely loves his great grandsons. They share a special, unique bond.  It is perfect and priceless and I am just so thankful he is here.

Three in the Tub

My three sweeties. Loving the tub. Splashing. "Be careful!" Wrestling. Singing. Happy.

Bubbles. Washing animals. Jack's laughter. Sticking their faces under the water. Fighting over who sits closest to the spigot. Sam's squeals.

Whining over having their hair washed. Giggling. "Five more minutes, Mama." Too many washcloths. Animal towels. Will's smiles.

A pile of dirty clothes. "No more splashing and I mean it!" Wet, messy hair. Leaving a ring of dirt behind. Wonderful. Brothers. My boys. Precious. The good stuff.

Farm Life

Farm life.  It is such a blessing.  My boys are so lucky to grow up here. I am thankful that they have the opportunity to learn so much about life and nature.  But Lord have mercy, I was not prepared for this quite yet...

Tonight I discovered my oldest setting up his "farm" and was startled to see him positioning his cattle in a shocking way.  Correctly, too, with a male and female cow in the appropriate spot.

It appears that Sam witnessed something new in the pasture tonight. Thankfully when I asked him what on earth those cows were doing, he responded innocently, "They're stampeding Mama."  Stampeding.  Exactly, son.

A lot

A whole lot of sweetness on one little pillow...

Preschool

Sam and Jack started preschool today.  They woke up happy and excited and did so well getting ready and out the door.  Jack clung to my leg when I took him to his room and I fully expected him to follow me out door. Thankfully his teacher distracted him with toy animals and I was able to sneak out without incident.  I showed Sam to his room and watched him find his seat and join the others.  He was so brave and was fighting back tears as I hugged him goodbye.  Leaving him when he was so obviously scared was horrible.  I worried about them all morning and felt as if I'd left two thirds of my heart behind when I drove away.  I was thrilled to see them run out with huge grins on their faces when I picked them up.  I desperately want them to happy and content and to never experience fear or doubt.   And so all too soon, it begins...the letting go.