All Boy

I think Burl is a very pretty boy.  But pretty is not a word we use to describe boys, now is it?  It especially doesn't fit this boy.  This boy that everyone asks, "he is all boy, isn't he?"

These pictures show that he is all boy.  Meaning, he likes the rowdiness of playtime in the front yard.  Mowing, baseball, screaming, throwing, and general rowdiness are the names of his games.  And I love it and it's all good fun and I can't believe that I get to see it and be with him.  

He has a soft side too.  We let him play things that are girlish.  He has a grocery cart with food and he loves to play eat. He loves to put his animals to bed.  Just yesterday, he spent the day at my in-laws.  Usually Fern goes as well, but this time she stayed with me.  They told me that he missed her, because he quickly became fond of one of the dolls at their house.  He changed her diaper, powdered her bottom, gave her a bottle, burped her, and loved on her.

I'm sure that a sociologist would love to tell me what's going on with all this play, and I would probably love to hear it because that stuff interests me.  However, today, I just want to focus on all these fun pictures that I snagged of him the other morning.  

One of his new things that he does is exercise.  He is a toddler, and in true toddler fashion, he copies what he sees.  A few days a week, he sees John and I do little exercise moves.  Lunges anyone?

When he goes down to start the leg lifts, he makes sure we're watching.  He likes for someone to count for him.  And we do.  We count.  

We usually stop at 2 or 3 and move quickly to the next thing: squats.  There are a few other moves that he does.  Some stretches and such.  And I'm so glad that I finally got pictures of these exercises.  It's about the cutest thing in the world.

Oh these babies, toddlers, kids, and teenagers are just great.  This is why I love kids.  They constantly have me entertained.  

And this is why I love my Burl.  When it's all said and done, nothing is better than a good roar.

Adventures By Myself

I used to think that daydreaming was for losers.  For people who had nothing to do.  For people who sacrificed a perfectly good opportunity to clean for daydreaming.  

It wasn't until a few years ago that my harsh opinion of daydreaming changed.  Someone gave John and I some marriage-dating advice: when we're on dates, dream together.  He wasn't talking about night-night, wake up sweaty from that weird dream of falling forever.

He was talking about thinking of fun things that may or may not happen.  And I don't think he was telling me to dream of all my baseboards and trim being repainted.  Because that is a real dream of mine.  He talked about fun things.  Well, It's taken us a while, but John and I are really good at coming up with these wonderful dream adventures.  Some are very far out there and some of them have come true for us.  It's been fun.  Dreaming with John, thinking about things just for the fun of it, has helped me to do the same.

Last week, my mom watched the kids for a little bit because I was suppose to meet someone.  It fell through at the last minute, so I had free time on my hands.  I ran one errand, then I went to dream by myself.  I read.  I thought.  I took some pictures. I sat there by myself for just under an hour.

And it was great.  At first it was almost weird and awkward.  I was tucked into a secret part of a sculpture garden in the best-kept-secret-district turned tourist spot.  By myself.  I enjoyed a drink.  Read a little.  And sat there.  At time passed, it got easier.  My mind started to wonder to good places.  I started to think about things:

Good things.  

Adventure things.

Personal things.

Parenting things.

Marriage things.

Family things.

Fun things.

And as I walked back to my car to drive home, I felt refreshed.  It was like that good deep breath after coming out of being underwater for a while.  Like taking a bite of ice cream after that 30-day cleanse.  {Like I've ever done a cleanse...}  Like that big glass of water when I get back from my run.  Ah.  The good stuff.  And I might be returning to that spot again for some dream time.  Because even this extrovert needs a little solitude {but just a little}.  Hi.  My name is Meg, and I am a Daydream Believer.

On The Floor

So far, I can say that today is an ordinary Monday.  {With an opening sentence like that, I know that hearts are beating faster in anticipation.}  We woke up to realize that Da-ee is not here.  He had to go back to work, so Mama's left to do this solo.  Que: laundry day.  We ripped the sheets off the bed, sorted the clothes, got breakfast, made a dash for more coffee beans, and came back home.  Fern napped, Burl and I played in the front yard.  Once she woke up, we came inside and found ourselves with a little floor time.  We played.  Nothing special-just blocks and protect Fern's head.

Sometimes when I'm playing with the kids, I start to get anxious.  I start to think of what I could be doing or what I need to be doing or what I want to be doing instead.  I have to make myself sit and play.  Playing with the kids is just about the most important thing that I can be doing at the time. I have a hard time remembering that, and I have a hard time feeling that.

 

This week, I've changed how I look at that special, only-little-once time.  This is what I do: I remember what it was like before I had Burl and Fern.  I remember those long afternoons at the little shops where I worked and things got really slow and I felt so bored.  I felt like everyone else was having fun at work and I was not.  Like a light switch, my attitude changes.  My perspective ignites.  What I wouldn't do back then for some of this time right now.  

 

In an instant, I become super mom.

I am taken back by how wonderful these little lives are.

I'm so thankful that the Lord lets me stay home and be a mom to them.

I long for nothing else but for this little time right here.  Right now.
I grab my camera that is beside me and snap some pictures, because they are so fun to photograph.

Me: "Hey Burl, can you sit on the floor by Fern so I can take a picture?"

Burl: "Ughhhh, Yep!" {loads of enthusiasm}

This is what I get:

I finally pick up Burl.  Sit him down.  Take his chubby little baby arm and place it behind his chubby little sister and hope I can scoot back quickly before I lose that kodak moment.  This is what I got:

And it's cute and precious.  It can almost be called the perfect one.
I love it almost as much as I love the goofy ones above.

I've heard something quoted like this or seen this theme in a movie and it's very true for me on this ordinary Monday: Whether it's pictures or parenting, being perfect isn't nearly as fun as the journey along the way.  

This Week's Menu

When I sat down to create our menu for this week, I was eager to try something new.  What did I do?  I went to my Recipes Pinterest Board and tried out some of the things that I've been meaning to cook.  The good ole quit-pinning-and-try-something routine.  Revolutionary, I'm telling you.  

Skillet chicken pot pie
Asian bowtie pasta with shrimps

Cooking club for me, pizza for the boys

Curried lentils

Cookout with friends