Catching up in pictures

Well. 

My goodness, it's been a while.

Do you remember me? (Do I remember me?)

So, it was Christmas. We like Christmas.

Now it's winter, and there is much snow and cold. A week or so ago, it was -18 degree when I woke up. Yes siree, it makes getting up to teach 6:30 am violin lessons extra inviting.

 So what do you do when there's 2 feet of snow and ice all over the place and your 4 year old is bouncing off the walls? Bring his bike inside. Then curse yourself repeatedly for thinking that a bike in the kitchen was a good idea.

Then, in the approximately 2.5 minutes when there isn't snow on the roads, you take your kids out for a walk. Greet the animals and splash in the puddles, quick, because you won't see the sidewalk again for months!

So what else have we been doing?

 Sleeping through Sunday School,

 Preparing for our new lives as famous recording artists, 

 Ruining Mom's high scores on iPhone games,

 Beating each other up with swords,

Learning to ice skate,

 Baking pies, (mmmm, pies!)

 Making gigantic messes,

 Getting by with a little help from our trusty friends, 

 Making more giant messes, this time of the artistic variety,

And looking ridiculously cute in our pjs and matching curls.

Don't forget the fact that winter and spring mean lots of practicing, performing, and Abby's first big violin competition. (Gulp!)

 So Ashlynn is practicing for the piano festival,

 I'm working on perfect bow hands with my students,

 Abby's performing everywhere,

And even Max feels the need to practice. (Will someone get that boy a cello already?)

Other important happenings: 

 The boys are developing their talent in photography. 

 They're both going through a rather experimental self-portrait phase.

Max has another impossible to cure ear infection. I didn't think you wanted to see pictures of that. (You're welcome.) We're heading into February, the dreaded month of illness, and I'm crossing my fingers that this is as bad as it gets.

I even took all the kiddos to get new pictures taken, and we all still liked each other when it was over. Check out the sidebar. Pretty impressive, right?

So there you have it. 2 months, two dozen pictures, and you're up to speed.

We're busy. We're happy, we're grateful.

Birthday Ian

Two years ago, two days before Thanksgiving, in the middle of a blinding snow storm, we welcomed tiny baby Ian into our family.

Ian has been a surprise right from the start. While we knew all along that another baby was meant to join our family, we hadn't planned on that addition coming along quite so soon. In fact, staring at a positive pregnancy test a mere two days before Max went in for skull revision #2 was quite a shock.

Other things I didn't plan on when it came to Ian? Going into labor at 30 weeks, then again at 31 weeks, 6 weeks of "restricted activity" along with the demon drugs terbutaline and nifedipine, and giving birth in a hospital with both pitocin and an epidural on board.

But in the end, when the midwife handed me my baby and we discovered that he was a boy, (another surprise, because I could have sworn right up until the time I was pushing that we were having a girl!) it was if he had always been a part of our family. From the minute we brought him home, we couldn't remember what it was like without him.

Ian has a huge personality trapped in a little tiny toddler body. If there's trouble to be had, Ian will find it. He scales bookshelves, desks, chairs, counters, and kitchen tables like Spiderman, makes messes like it's his job, and has practically no fear. "Get down, Ian!" is a frequently heard motto. This is Ian on the very top shelf of our laundry room...

 One memorable afternoon not long ago, he had a complete meltdown as I was pushing him on the swing in the backyard. Finally, after ten minutes of hysterics, I realized the reason he was so upset was because I wasn't pushing him high enough.

Ian is a complete charmer with his blonde curls and his dimples, and more than once I've been asked if he and Max are twins. When we sat down in church a week ago, one of Max's preschool friends pointed to Max and said, "Look Mom, it's Max!" He then turned to Ian, somewhat confused and said "There's another Max. there's two Maxes!" Ian idolizes Max, wanting to do everything that he's doing, but is just as likely to be found stealing Max's toys or beloved hat and running away, laughing.

Ian has two volumes: loud, and loudest. He has absolutely the loudest scream of any kid I have ever heard anywhere, and definitely knows how to use that scream to get what he wants. He is a bundle of toddler contradictions: heaven help you if you try to assist him in getting dressed in the morning, ("No! Leave me alone! Do it self!") but you're in equal amounts of trouble if you refuse to carry him everywhere he wants to go. I think I spend as much time rocking him in the rocking chair now as I did when he was 8 months old, but the "Love you, Mama" that I often get from him is plenty of reward.  His is filthy more often than not, and I secretly rejoice in the 30 seconds each day right after I brush his teeth and hair, knowing it's like that those are the only 30 seconds that day when he'll be that clean.

At two years old, Ian loves anything that has to do with "Toy Story," loves hot dogs, broccoli, macaroni & cheese, and any sweet thing he can sneak or con someone into giving him. He is very nearly weaned, although he's not super happy about that. Ian is an articulate little chatterbox, who keeps us laughing everyday with his words and his funny, funny expressions. He has to be up on the counter "helping" while I'm cooking, and will frequently try to mimic what he sees me do in the kitchen, which is less than thrilling when it involves him trying to make strawberry jello in a cup on the living room floor. Ian loves to wrestle, to run, to play with "his" phone, to dump shampoo all over the carpet, to watch "Sesame Street," to jump on anything, to drive his sisters crazy, and to snuggle as close to me as possible at nap time.

We doubled up and celebrated his birthday on Thanksgiving with a giant oreo shaped cake, Toy Story figurines, and two foam swords. A happy birthday indeed.

He's such a sweet, charming, hilarious little boy, and I'm so glad he's ours. Surprises and all.

It's the little things

Ten things I am grateful for right this minute:

1~Swimming for FHE? Yes, please. The tired kids that come with it? Even better.

2~A wonderful, successful recital this past weekend. It was the most ambitious group recital I've ever done, and I'm so grateful it's over.

3~The best part of the recital being over? One completely lesson-free week. That means 5 blessed weekdays this week without a 6:30 am lesson. Yes, life is good.

4~Warm socks, a hoodie, and very large blanket.

5~Cold sore medicine.

6~Kneader's pumpkin spice bread brought to me by a sweet violin family.

7~The anticipation of a new novel on my kindle tonight.

8~Text messages. And the friends who have day-long conversations with me via text messaging. (Seriously, what did we ever do when we had to actually pick up the stupid phone...?)

9~My sweet husband sitting next to me, both of us typing away on our respective laptops, keeping each other company.

10~A (mostly) clean house. Or at least the part I can see. Because let's face it, even if my house hosted its own Armagheddon today, I wouldn't be doing anything about it tonight. 

Birthday Boy

This handsome little dude is Max.

Max who, four years ago yesterday, was born in my room in a giant tub of water.

This little boy has never met someone he couldn't charm the pants off with his sweet smile and blonde curls. He's hysterically funny, makes us laugh everyday, and has and amazingly kind, tender heart. 

He was so excited about his birthday. Whenever I asked him what he wanted for his birthday, he would answer "Presents." Funnier was when I asked him what kind of cake he wanted, and he would answer "With candles to blow out."

In the end, all our little boy needed to be happy was a new "Woody" doll from Toy Story. The other gifts were icing on the cake. He was so excited about his new toys that he tried to get up at 3 am, 4 am, and 5 am  this morning to play with them, and now is as excited for Ian's upcoming birthday as Ian is.

At four years old, Max's favorite toy is any and all Woody dolls from Toy Story. He also loves Cars 2 characters, Veggie Tales, his ratty, torn red hat that he has worn nearly constantly for the past year and a half, and can quote and sing from entire episodes of Sesame Street. He will only eat about three kinds of fruit, and then only if he's in the mood, but will eat an entire can of pineapple if you give it to him. He has two volumes: loud, and louder, and has unbelievable energy from wake up to bedtime. He adores his little blue "Boot Scoot" bike, playing outside, going to preschool, and wrestling with Daddy. He loves his sisters, but his absolute favorite is his sidekick and best buddy, Ian. 

We've learned so much in the past four years during our journey with Max. Can't imagine our family without him, and can't wait to see the person he becomes. Happy birthday, little buddy, we love you!

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?