My Boys (A photobomb!)

When we first discovered we were pregnant with Max, we did the traditional boy or girl guessing games, although we both knew all along that he was a boy. By 9 weeks along in the pregnancy, we knew his name was going to be Max, even before we had ultrasound confirmation.

And I was terrified.

Not just because I'd been parenting girls for seven years, and it was all I knew, although that was part of it. Much of my trepidation came from being raised with four crazy brothers, all of whom struggled throughout their growing up years. While their stories aren't necessarily mine to tell, watching my four brothers and their dealings with drugs, alcohol and crime, as well as the grief they put my parents through was enough to make me doubt our ability to raise boys and make them productive members of society.

But now, these boys. They are my heart. I can't imagine what I would do without them.

(And really, how lucky am I to have two adorable little boys with blond curls?)

These boys need each other. They are truly best friends.

Of course they bicker, fight, yell at, slug, and tackle each other with regularity.

But at the same time, they can't stand to be away from each other. Yesterday, while Max was at preschool, Ian must have asked "Where's Max?" 75 times.  (Seeing as he's not even 2, it always comes out as "Mats." We love it.) And the first thing I heard from Max when I picked him up? "Where's my Ian?"

They're also partners in crime. Beware two boys in the bathroom and a closed door. Give them 60 seconds unsupervised in a bathroom and you'll find a filthy sink, a disgusting toilet, and one or more soaking wet shredded rolls of toilet paper strewn all over every surface of the bathroom.

I love their energy, their curiosity, and their compulsive need to climb, jump, and flop all over anything in sight.

I love watching them be super heroes, (Super Max to the rescue!) and seeing their loves for bikes and all things with wheels.

While I'm not certain that I love the heart attacks that Ian and his fearless nature give me on a daily basis, I love seeing his adventurous nature and his thrill at trying new things. 

It also gives us quite a laugh when we see Ian teach his big brother how to get in trouble more efficiently...

I've been choked up more than once watching them truly care for each other- singing to each other, comforting each other, and running to find each other the minute they wake up at ungodly hours.

I can't say that the challenges I'll face with my boys as they grow up don't make me a bit nervous. But I also know that even when they grow up to be stinky, sweaty man-boys, I'll still claim them as my babies.

Home Sweet Home

A few days ago, we signed some papers and officially sold our townhome. We lived there nearly four years- four years of blessings, struggles, laughter, clutter, and all manner of family togetherness. Sometimes way too much family togetherness, especially when it involved all six of crammed in our tiny kitchen. Max was born in a tub of water in my bedroom, we brought a tiny Ian home from the hospital to that house. All six of us lived in 1600 square feet far longer than we wanted to, but when we got word that it had been sold, the process of securing a new place to live was a long, drawn-out process that tested our faith at every turn. There were more than a few times that I worried that God had completely forgotten us, and that we'd end up homeless, broke, or (maybe worse) living in my parents' basement.

Little did we know how blessed we would be. Everything fell into place at just the right time, and this house? It couldn't be more perfect for us. We absolutely love it here. It has everything we need, and many, many of the things on our wish list (although we wouldn't complain at all about central air...) We are nestled right at the foot of the Wasatch Back, and there aren't words for the beauty of these mountains, or the peace and gratitude I feel to be surrounded by them every day.

I love fall. The months of September and October make up for the fact that it usually snows six months out of the year here. And while I'm absolutely dreading the snow flying, there isn't a time I've left the house these past few weeks when I haven't had to stop and just admire how beautiful the changing colors are. I truly believe we live in one of the most beautiful places on earth.

I joked with a friend that it feels like we live in a real-life "Mayberry." I send my children on their bikes to the grocery store when I need rice for dinner, or when a craving for 25-cent donuts hits. Everyone waves at everyone else, we can take a ten minute stroll to "downtown," and my children are routinely distracted during their schoolwork by the squirrels and chipmunks that squabble over the apples off of our apple tree and run along the top of our fence.

I took the boys on a short walk yesterday morning. In the course of four blocks, we saw a squirrel, a couple of roosters, several friendly dogs, a cat or two, and the highlight? Two horses, who were as delighted to see my boys as my boys were to meet them.

Did I mention I love it here?