The Return of Milkshakes and Dirty Bath Tubs

I can tell summer is here. The boys stare mindlessly at the t.v. and the 8 o'clock bed time has disappeared along with my daughter, rules, and appetites.

I'm blaming my lack of discipline on the weeks and weeks of pneumonia or possibly the sadness of the vacancy left by my spunky 12 year old. 

And while I refuse to take accountability, I might as well include the unexpected tendencies to sleep in until 9, allow the boys to eat cereal for dinner, and turn my back on the quantities of tape and printer paper disappearing.

Honestly, I love not having schedules or bedtimes or rules about dinner. In the summers of my youth, my own mother would occasionally abandon dinner obligations, and we would drink milkshakes.

This summer, I look forward to summer reading and sand in my van and sunscreen smelling necks and lazy mornings and late night movies and dinner at bedtime and road trips and rock concerts and girly book club and dirty bath tub rings and milkshake dinners.

And the return of my daughter. 

The Truth About Baseball

To say I am glad baseball is over would be a lie.  Although I love soccer and basketball, this is my sport. And I share my passion with Matthew.

He could hit a pitched ball when he was 2. 

And nothing changed this 6th year of his life as the coach pitched, he hit it every single time and most often on the first pitch. 

The Reds this year took home the trophy with 11 wins because of players like Matthew.  

He never got out at first base and loved sliding into home. I encouraged him to get those white pants dirty, telling him if he came home clean, he really didn't play ball. 
The coach would pitch 5 balls while a parent stood behind catcher to throw the balls back to the coach. Matthew would field the ball and then without moving his body fling the ball behind him to the parent. It made me laugh to watch this super cool kid. 
Baseball.

I love it, and I love watching Matt love it. To say he is anything but talented, would be a lie.  Matt is an original; he's also passionate for life. Passionate for baseball.

Definitely Something To Do Again

This is my friend, Mandy, posing with her dh ,Derrick, after our 10K Mud Run at Camp Pendleton. Mandy is the reason I registered to run along with my dh and these ladies. 

Back Row: Left to Right (Me, Cia, Jodene, Mandy, Amy, and Karalea)

This picture is taken behind Tom where I spent most of the race. 

Karalea is taking a practiced SP (self-portrait) as we head into the river. The water was refreshing after scaling walls, jumping in sloppy mud, and regardless of the guy urinating behind us. 

I was thankful for having Karalea. It was great experiencing the race with her. She walked when I walked and ran when I ran. 

This is the last big hill before the finish. The hill was muddy and steep and challenging and fun. 

 

It shouldn't have surprised me when Karalea sprinted at the end, she always does. She beat me and that's why she's smiling.

Maybe we are that muddy in the picture or maybe it's just marks on our waterproof camera lens after a muddy army crawl. Marks for adventure, determination, fun, and success. Or maybe marks of celebration for many more mud runs. 

It's No Use to Pretend He Isn't 4

Maybe it's taken me so long to write about Travis' birthday because I've been sick or busy with end of the year parties and graduations. Or maybe it's because Travis turned 4, and I am quite possibly in denial of the earth's trip around the sun again. 12 months. 52 weeks. 365 days. 

Travis couldn't be any more proud. He announced to me on his birthday that he no longer needed to be picked up because he is a big year old. 

Just try, he said. 

So. I grunted and turned red face unable to lift him off the ground. I pretended to be unscathed,  and he pretended to like it.  

We woke on June 2 and brought him breakfast in bed along with singing and his Honor Board. 

Travis chose to have his birthday dinner at Good Stuff where he ordered toast and fruit and family gifts including cars and more cars. 

Travis fits perfectly with our family, and I am so honored to experience this life with him. 

Every moment is a learning experience with him. He is stylish and determined, creative and clever, funny and mischievous, innocent and steadfast, kind and blessed. 

Thankfully, he also has a short memory. He asked me to carry him after only 2 days of void. He pretended to be tired, and I pretended suddenly to be strong.