Brave Adventurers, July 2010

fter a few timorous moments at the prospect of not sleeping in their own beds, the kids certainly warmed up to the idea of spending a few days at the coast with my folks. I only wish their daddy had been able to join us. Next time. Next time.

And a 1, and a 2...

hen you are potty training a little one it's pretty ridiculous how much of your time revolves around being in the bathroom, or thinking about how long it's been since you've taken the little person to the bathroom, or trying to remember if a certain someone had evacuated his bowels yet today, or plotting out all the stops you need to make and where the nearest bathroom is in each location while you're out and about, just in case nature calls.

And in the case of Noah, nature seems to call frequently. I haven't quite figured out how to get him to understand that even though he thinks he's done peeing after a few little drips, there is likely more to be expelled. I mean, with Hannah I could explain what the sensation of a full bladder might feel like. I knew the signals to describe to her. But Noah and I don't share the same equipment. I'm at a loss for accurate descriptive phrases. And frankly, many times I just want to throw up my hands, shake my head and declare like Elaine does to Jerry and George, "I don't see how you guys walk around with those things!"

All in all, though, he had a great first week getting used to the whole deal. Then we went to the beach for several days and his whole game got thrown off, which is understandable. Be honest, we all like home court advantage. But this week, with renewed vigor, finding it way more effective to just bypass the pull-ups and go straight to big-boy training undies, we've had pretty good success. An accident here and there, including, ironically, one while I was in the process of typing this. (Apparently, the answer was no, a certain little someone had NOT evacuated his bowels yet today. And the washing machine churns...)

But as I was saying, we've been actively back at it for 3 days with more success than failure. I'm glad my kiddo is treat driven. All hail the power of the gummy worm!

Spring Break breaks my heart

I love it, but I hate it. Really, spring break only serves to make me want summer break that much more. And with weather like we're having this week, it's feeling that much more heartbreaking to fathom leaving my amazing children each morning and going back to the drudgery of work on Monday. But summer is coming, summer is coming, summer is coming...

So, despite a bit of a health setback-- and by that I mean the inability to do more than about 25 minutes of anything before I have to sit down, rest and try to gasp for a little air as my lungs still heal from the nasty cold that knocked me on my tush for 8 FULL days-- I'm trying to make the most of this all too short stay-at-home-mommy time.

Today, inspired by Hannah and Noah's Monday night dinner conversation, we had (The First) Tie-Die Taco Tuesday. That's right. It's exactly what it sounds like. Uncle Kyle, Aunt Hope, cousins Reid and Jude and Papa and Grandma Reynolds joined in the festivities and it was so fun to hang out and eat a family meal now that the Reynolds side of the family is taking over Maywood Park.

I'm already brainstorming a whole list of themed family dinner nights for the whole summer and more fun excursions with the cousins. Job #1: Make the cousins some tie-dyed shirts for future spur-of-moment-Tuesday fun. Luckily, their mama was clever enough to put them in awesome, colorful Hawaiian shirts . Now that's una fiesta!

Making cookies!

Last year, Hannah and I baked and decorated Christmas cookies together for the first time. This year, Noah was big enough to join in and Grandma came down to help too. Here's how it went:

Of course, Grandma made them special Christmas cookie aprons. (Those are some cute kids!)

The rolling out and cutting was surprisingly not that messy.

Grandma helped Hannah with the decorations and I helped Noah. The kids were amazingly good at not tasting everything as they worked.

The finished product!
Hannah savored her hard work, one little nibble at a time.
Of course, Noah had already devoured his cookie by the time I grabbed the camera! Thanks for all the help, Grandma!

Our developing traditions...

I love that the kids are now old enough to begin developing our own Peterson family traditions, and I have been spending much time thinking about what I'd like these to be. Well, on Saturday we embarked on one, begun last year in earnest, that is wonderful and bittersweet at the same time.

We packed up and headed down to my grandma and grandpa's house in Gladstone so that Hannah and Noah could help decorate their tree. We did the same last year at my grandma's request, and it was great fun. This year was extra special because Kyle, Hope, Reid and Jude were able to join us. Hannah put the ornaments in just the right spot and set up the nativity characters with great care. Noah kept taking the ornaments off and putting them back on and kept trying to talk me into letting him eat another candy cane. When the festive (and by festive, I mean annoying) singing stuffed animals came out, Reid and Noah had a pretty intense dance party. And Jude watched intently and cooed at the whole affair.


Great family fun, right? Without a doubt. But the bittersweet part, for me, is the realization that this will be a relatively short-lived tradition. My grandma and grandpa are nearing 90 years old. Neither are in the best of health. In fact, each time we visit, my grandpa seems noticeably more tired and frail. They've both lived long, full lives full of generosity, faith and love-- and when it is their time, will be called home with joy to join their Creator and Savior.

So while I treasure these moments and experiences we still have the opportunity to share, and try to commit them to memory and photographs, I also find myself preemptively missing the fun times my kids will be unable to share with them as they grow. Since our physical bodies are transitory and age will always give way to youth, it creates this irony of brief tradition.