A Berry Good Time

We were blessed enough to go strawberry picking today at a farm with some friends. It was a perfect day -- sunny with a few clouds, a cool breeze and 80 degrees.

Boo Boo was an enthusiastic picker -- or should I say, eater? I think if these farmers were serious, they'd weigh the kids before and after they're in the strawberry fields to get the TRUE amount of strawberry's picked.

Most of BB's harvest went from hand to mouth, and finally, I had to cut him off. X-Man indulged in only a few.

As I was sitting in the field with a belly full of sun-warmed strawberries, watching all of our precious children bend and squat and pick down the rows, I smiled at the bliss of it all.

"Is this heaven?" I thought to myself. No, it's Texas springtime!

Rackin' 'Em Up

So, here's another ZENIT article. We're trying to cut back, really! The story ideas are just super-abundant right now... just like the amount of God's grace it takes to do this work during this busy time for us. God is good! =)

"Hiwawious"/Phenomenal Moment of the Day

While washing dishes in the kitchen after lunch, I overheard Boo Boo in the living room "reading" a story to X-Man for the first time.

"Fouw wittwe wady bugs cwimbing up a twee. Awong came a turtwe -- then thewe wewe FWEE!"

Musical Beds

We are not family bed people. Some people are, some are not. We're definitely not.

I co-sleep with my newborns for three to four months at the beginning, when they're pretty quiet and easy. But after that, I can hardly sleep with a child anywhere near me. I have a really hard turning off "mom mode" when a child is in my room, awake or asleep.

Right now I am in Boo Boo's bed. Alone. With at least one of his hard, plastic, Noah's ark animals sticking into my back. Dear Husband is in the guest bedroom. And Boo Boo has our huge king bed all to himself.

Boo Boo's been awakening at 4am the last couple of nights, and DH has been great about getting up with him and putting him back in his bed. (He's not scared, just hungry; must be growing again!)

But tonight (or should I say, this morning?) when I heard Boo Boo crawl into our bed I played possum and waited for DH to take him out. But it never happened. I laid there for quite some time, waiting, until I slid off my side of the bed and peaked over.

There was Boo Boo's beautiful brown head, curled up on a pillow, and DH was nowhere to be seen. When I found him on the futon, he said that Boo Boo had crawled into his arms and fell asleep, preventing DH from falling back to sleep. We conferred and decided to not risk awakening BB by moving him.

So here we are: all in the wrong beds, and two of us getting little to no sleep. Looks like we're going to have to buck up tomorrow night and put BB back into his own bed immediately, so we actually can get a full night's rest! Right now, I'm trying to not dread the headache I will have while dragging myself around today. =P

A Good Read

I have to say that this has been my favorite article to work on recently; it was like a spiritual retreat in itself. Enjoy!

A Day of Lessons

Last month we took the boys to the local rodeo, which runs for three weeks each year. (It's a lot like the Minnesota State Fair, only bigger and longer.) Yes, these people are serious about rodeo!

We were excited to take Boo Boo, in particular, because he loves animals, he loves cowboys and he loves watching bull-riding on ESPN. One of Dear Husband's colleagues had told him about Mutton Bustin', and we thought Boo Boo would love that, too.

For those of you less enlightened, Mutton Bustin' is like bull-riding for kids. You put helmets and kevlar vests on them, have them hug a sheep's back, and they ride the sheep to the other end of the corral. (The kids have to be a certain height and weight, of course, and parents have to sign a release form.)

Our experience Mutton Bustin' -- or lack thereof -- taught me many lessons that day.

Lesson #1: Boo Boo is actually afraid of some things.
Before this experience, I had chalked up Boo Boo to be virtually fearless. He thinks nothing of climbing to any height, has not had one nightmare, and has never been afraid of a "monster" in his closet. But once he saw a kid slide off of a running sheep he refused to ride himself. (Not that I blame him.)

Lesson #2: Some moments are better to be experienced than photographed.
In my grand Mutton Bustin' plans that morning, I had packed the newly charged camera and video camera in order to capture the experience that day. I was prepped like a paparazzi. When we got to the Mutton Bustin' arena I realized that I had forgotten both cameras and had no way of recording the event. Needless to say, I was BESIDE myself. (Luckily, we made friends with the nice family next to us, and they just emailed us these photos.)

As I fought back the tears and curses, I watched the other parents snapping away at their children and realized that I would actually be able to watch my son with my own eyes -- not through a camera lens or a screen. I would be able to enjoy the day without worrying about how many shots I had left, whether my kids would smile for me at the right time, or how low the battery was. Frankly, sometimes I DO feel like my kids' personal press corps (especially with the blog), feeling like I have to capture every single "special" moment of their lives on film. But I don't. And not doing so was actually kind of a relief.

Lesson #3: I am WAY too competitive.
When Boo Boo told Dear Husband that he didn't want to ride the sheep, I had to step in. "Let me give this a try," I told DH, as I switched kids with him. For some reason, I thought that I could change BB's mind somehow; I tried every strategy I could to talk him into it. ("Are you SURE you don't want to? Not even a little bit? Don't you want to hug that sheep? Isn't he nice and soft?") He kept saying no. It was when I saw another mother yelling at her son until he cried that I realized what I was doing. I was on the slippery slope of becoming a pushy stage mom -- the Jon Benet Ramsey rodeo version. I wanted this to happen so much myself that I wasn't respecting Boo Boo's wishes or free will. Praise God, I backed down, gave up and enjoyed watching everyone else's children get smeared by sheep.

Of course later that day -- and about once a week since -- Boo Boo has exclaimed out of the blue, "Mama, I want to ride a sheep!" Oh, well. Maybe next rodeo?

91 and Sunny

Tis the season for ...

Wearing shorts every day and getting new knee scrapes ...


X-Man's first band-aid (he's signing "hurt" here) ...



Bandage trash strewn on bathroom counters ...



And sweatin' like a fat kid.



Summer is here!

Phenomenal Moment of the Day

When I was a little girl, my mom would spend hours pushing me in our tire swing in the backyard, singing to me. She'd also recite poems from "A Child's Garden of Verses."
How do you like to go up in the swing, up in the air so blue?

I have continued the tradition with Boo-Boo; often, when I push him, I recite "The Swing" by Robert Louis Stevenson.
Oh, I do think it the pleasantest thing ever a child can do.

Tonight, after dinner, our little family went to the neighborhood park so the boys could blow off some steam. We pushed them in the swings for a while, then took a break on a bench.
Up in the air and over the wall till I can see so wide.

Boo Boo started pushing an empty baby swing, so I went over and plunked X-Man in it. This was the first time BB agreed to push his little brother in the swing himself -- a wonder in itself. X squealed with delight, showing off his dimple.
Rivers and trees and cattle and all, over the countryside.

Dear Husband and I were chatting on the bench, when I heard snippets of something familiar, something Boo Boo was saying a few yards away. I stopped our conversation so I could hear better.
Till I look down on the garden green, down on the roof so brown.

Could it be? Could it really be? Yes. Boo Boo was reciting "The Swing" to his little brother, passing on the family tradition. God bless him!
Up in the air I go flying again; up in the air and down.

Up Close and Personal

We went to the zoo today for the first time in a long time, and got to visit all sorts of animals we hadn't found before. X-Man was thrilled to see real, live animals (NOT just in a book or on a video) and was very excited to sign all of them.

Boo Boo was just ecstatic to get up this close to a Komodo Dragon, one of his favorite animals du jour. He kept saying, "This dwagon makes me waugh!" Boo Boo laughing made his little brother laugh, too, of course.

We also enjoyed a long reflection pond full of koi, which, luckily, no one fell into!

Takin' the Boys Out to the Ballgame

The other night we were given free tickets to a major league baseball game -- the boys' first! It was in a new, beautiful ballpark and our tickets were on the ground level, behind home plate.

Boo Boo was just ecstatic when Dear Husband brought him down to the field beforehand, and both boys thoroughly enjoyed hot dogs, french fries and a frozen lemonade.

We were amazed at how well-behaved the boys were; both sat quietly for two hours! We were so grateful for a fun evening together, with no complications! =)

"Hiwawious" Quote of the Day

Boo Boo has really gotten into spelling and letters, and goes around the house saying, "Frog starts with 'F'!" and "Jesus starts with 'J'!"

This morning, he told Dear Husband, "Wonghorn starts with 'W'!"

The Results Are In...

I took X-Man in for a check-up today, as he turned 18 months yesterday. He weighs 21 pounds, 3 ounces (THIRD PERCENTILE!), and is 31.5 inches long (25th percentile). I had to laugh at his stats; I had thought he'd gotten SO heavy lately! (Tells you how out of shape I am!) Luckily, my doctor is pretty laid back and is not worried, as X is continuing to grow (even a little bit!) and thrive. "Somebody has to be the third percentile," he said with a shrug.

Every Time I Turn Around...

X-Man is doing this! Eek!

I keep telling him, "No, thank you, sir!", but can I really blame him? When you're this tiny and you're trying to make it in a big, big world, you have to make do.

Home Safe

In recent days, I have become "gool" for the boys, as they chase each other around the house. Do you remember gool? (Don't ask me where we got that word; I'm making up the spelling!) When I was growing up, it was the non-working, decorative lamppost on our front hill that was the safe zone when playing ditch with the neighborhood kids after dinner during summer months. No one from the opposite team could tag or capture you if you were touching gool.

I am particularly the favorite hide-out for X-Man. When his big brother is close on his little heels, he barrels into my legs and sticks his head through, scared and thrilled by the chase at the same time. He loves to pretend to be a big boy and play tough, but when his bluff is called, he scrambles my way.

Instead of being somewhat annoyed by this (I'm usually trying to get something done in the middle of their game) today it made me smile. I love that both my big and little child run to me. I love that even my limbs make them feel safe -- that as long as they've got hold of some part of me, nothing bad will happen. I love that they have that comfort, that gift of physical presence every day and every hour in their lives.

Even Dear Husband has lovingly told me that I am his "home"; wherever I am is his place of comfort and rest. No matter how far he travels, or how long he's gone, when he comes back to me, he's home. We've seen it play out when we've lived near and far from our roots.

It's fascinating to think about, really, how I am home to every member of our little family, and my body housed and sheltered two of them until birth. I thank God that he has allowed me to be a safe home for so many people, big and little, and I pray that there will always be room for more love and lives!

Milestone Moment of the Day

Boo Boo's first nickname was Buddy, ever since he was a fat and sassy baby. And through the dozens of nicknames since, it has remained. Until now.

Today, Boo Boo informed me, "Mama, pwease don't call me 'Buddy.' I do not wike it. Call me my name."

Well! At least he hasn't outlawed "Boo Boo," "Booger" and "Bubba," his present nicknames. At least not yet!

A-ha! Quote of the Day

"We must convince ourselves that the worst enemy of a rock is not a pickaxe or any other such implement, no matter how sharp it is. No, its worst enemy is the constant flow of water which drop by drop enters the crevices until it ruins the rock's structure. The greatest danger for a Christian is to underestimate the importance of fighting skirmishes which ... can, little by little, leave him soft and weak."

-St. Josemaria Escriva

Phenomenal Moment of the Day

X-Man is now the proud owner of seven to eight teeth -- including at least three totally random, non-sequential molars. Almost every day I look in his mouth, I see another tooth cracking through his gums.

This morning, he whined his way over to the pantry, where we keep out medicine. He signed "up" at his bottle of Tylenol, pointed to his teeth and signed "hurt."

Brave New Day

After we dropped off Dear Husband at the airport this morning, we set out on a daring, unprecedented adventure. I was more than a little reluctant to embark, as I was dreading another stressful, wretched car trip with the boys -- X-Man to be exact. But I decided to create a habit in practicing the virtue of fortitude and courage. We got in the car, said a rosary and prayed for the best.

We picked up a friend and daughter and headed for the hill country, more than an hour away, where we met other friends. Six moms (half of them pregnant) and 12 kids altogether -- some with one child, one with three and pregnant with a fourth. We created quite a scene everywhere we went, and were met with mostly smiles and good-natured chuckles.

We had a picnic lunch, then went for a tour of a local ice creamery -- with a free cup of ice cream at the finale!

The boys couldn't eat it, of course, but I enjoyed a new flavor: Centennial Cupcake with cake batter base, cake chunks, chocolate frosting whirled throughout and sprinkles. Yum! Boo Boo unknowingly practiced great self-control and denial, and happily ate a fruit slurpie.

Then we set out for a famous Poor Clare convent that raises miniature horses. Yes, you read that right. As you can see, Boo Boo -- and all the other kids -- was thrilled to be on a farm again (a REAL farm that is!).

My love of the country was renewed today, as I inhaled the clean air, smelled the sweet grass and gazed at the rolling hills painted with bluebonnets. And what is more delightful than fuzzy, fat-bellied little horses? They were adorable enough to squeeze!



It was a quiet ride back home. I am ecstatic to report that X-Man was near perfect for the entire trip, except for a small breakdown for a few minutes near the end of the drive. Boo Boo was on his usual good car behavior. It gave me new hope for future travels with the boys ... even the long drive back to Minnesota, if necessary. Thank the Lord for grace-filled days like these, full of friends and lasting memories!

A Happy Favor

Some of our dearest, oldest family friends would like to move back to the Twin Cities from Cedar Rapids, Iowa, and are trying to sell their house themselves. They did the same thing a year ago, brave souls, and with great success -- but prayers are always appreciated.

Links to and hits on their website (to show interest and to generate high Google search points) would also be a great favor to them. So please pray and click away so we can be reunited with them ASAP!

Downer on the Farm

Last Friday I got roped into taking the boys to a nearby petting zoo -- billed as a "farm" -- with some friends. I had always driven past the place and knew we'd have to make a trip at least once.

From the moment we arrived, Boo Boo was in love. We simply followed him from animal to animal, as he ran around squealing with delight. I tried to not worry too much about his allergies to hay, grass and every living creature, and let him enjoy himself (with the epipen at the ready).

He remained blissfully unaware of the ticks that were probably lurking on the freely roaming deer, where the abundant flies had landed previously and the million-and-one ways he could be contracting e.coli, hand-foot-mouth disease and a lethal staph infection every second. He didn't even notice how pitiful the animals were in their too-small cages, how their scruffy, dirty coats were shaved, and how their eyes were dull with hopelessness.

I'm glad he enjoyed it, but not me. I wanted to release the animals from their pens, hose them down and transport them to a REAL farm. I've always considered myself more of a country person than a city person -- at least, a BIG city person. That is, until I spent an hour at this place. I'm not up to the flies, the allergens and the potential diseases.

What a sad realization this is for me. When I was a kid, I loved nothing more than visiting my great-aunt's sheep farm: exploring the barn, wrestling with the puppies, chasing the cats. Now that I am a mother of little, fragile children, even a petting zoo has become a sad, dangerous place.

What We've Been Up To

I've been hearing some rumblings that I haven't posted much lately. We've just been busy with our usual schedule of moms' groups/play dates, parks and as much fun outdoor time as possible. I've been trying to pack a box or two every day, so I don't get slammed at the end.

The boys have been doing well -- progressing nicely and staying healthy. Boo Boo keeps getting taller, stronger and heavier. (He's been awakening us at night in hunger and with hurting legs -- growing pains!) Some days he looks like a six-year-old to us! X-Man is retaining his tiny physique, but is lengthening some and FINALLY has become an enthusiastic eater (and only nursing twice a day -- a miracle!)

Boo Boo is seeing letters and numbers everywhere and is beginning to sound out words. X-Man, not to be left out, has taken to dancing to and humming along with the alphabet song, and pointing out letters around the house. Amazing how they are learning together!

Many of you are asking questions about our upcoming move, so here are some answers:

* My mom is coming down to help with the boys the last few days we're here; then she and I and the boogers will be flying to MN on June 1. Dear Husband will be driving up our beater car later, depending on when he can wrap up his job here.

* We have been BLESSED with movers, which is a huge relief! We'll probably transport the minivan. (Yes, we are wimps; I am NOT driving back to MN with the boys no matter what. (Surprisingly, X-Man is awful in the car; Boo Boo is near perfect. Who'd have guessed?!) My mental health has a price tag on it!)

* We will be moving back to our old house in MN, opening up the whole thing. My dear childhood friend, Auntie J, will be renting out a few rooms upstairs, but the rest of the rooms will be filled with the boys' toys, an office for us and a family room. Yay for space!

* We had to break our lease down here, so please pray that someone will want to rent this house June 1 so we don't have to pay two months extra rent! Of course, a realtor is trying to show the house, which is no small feat with two messy boys. =P

Otherwise, Dear Husband is going out of town again this weekend for another conference in D.C., and the boys and I will be hanging low. Perhaps a Saturday trip to the zoo? A splurge dinner at Chipotle? Who knows what excitement awaits! ;-)

Another One

We seem to be on a roll with articles. Check out today's ZENIT.

Remembering, and Loving, JPII

Today is the third anniversary of the death -- or birth into eternal life, really -- of Servant of God John Paul II. I was reminded of the date when skimming some Catholic blogs, and was particularly heartened by a friend reminiscing about when he met the Pope. We were blessed to see him two times.

The first was about a month after we'd been married to get our marriage blessed. It was a HUGE day for him, as it was the 25th anniversary of his pontificate; he announced the new Luminous Mysteries of the rosary to a crowd of 30,000 people.

Some of you might remember the now-notorious story of me disregarding our instructions to be blessed from afar. I rushed the papal throne -- as poor Dear Husband got snagged by a strong-armed bishop -- and knelt down to kiss his hand. In perfect retribution for my rash act, the photos came back with my bra strap hanging down to my elbow. I almost cried in fury, but learned a great lesson.

John Paul II, though a a phenomenal religious leader, holy man and the vicar of Christ, is still a person. And as he wrote in the Theology of the Body the only proper response to another person is love (willing that person's authentic good). It is not to use that person, or treat him like an object, or seek only your intentions with him. Yes, in a way I had forgotten the Pope was a person that day: an old, tired, frail man who could not have crazy ladies throwing themselves at his feet, no matter the demonstration of love intended.

My rash act also prevented my beloved DH from getting anywhere near the Pope and experiencing him for himself. Somehow, I think he was able to shout out, "We love you, Papa! Thank you!"

So, the second time I met him I was determined to chill out, for all of our sakes. We were invited to a private Mass that he celebrated with about 20 other people, and then we all had a chance to be introduced to and greet him afterward. I love this photo of us with him for obvious reasons, but particularly because you can see by our physical posture how docile we were -- hands relaxed, palms up, frozen in that moment and never wanting it to end.

Having him touch us and bless us was about as close as we'll ever get to having Christ physically present to us in human form. It was the best I can imagine how it would be to have Jesus look at you, and behold you, and love you, even for a second. It was a blessing beyond words.

Gratuitously Cute Photo of the Week

Our charming, adorable, tiny, darling, delectable Dumpling. Nuff said.

Monkey Sees, Monkey Does

Our children are their own people, of course, with their own personalities, likes and dislikes. But sometimes, it's extraordinary the influence we wield as parents.

The apple doesn't fall far from the tree with Boo Boo here, sitting down to read about the Holy Year of St. Paul in the latest "Inside the Vatican." We can't keep this issue away from him. Often, I'm trying to read it over breakfast and he begs for it; I have to hand it over, of course. (You just don't say no to requests like that!) He's even sneaked out of his room during quiet time to grab it for his perusal. I think the big horse in Caravaggio's portrayal of St. Paul's conversion is what really draws him in.

I Brake for Bluebonnets

I've loved flowers since I was a little girl, and I've always had a bad habit of picking them. Right now it's bluebonnet season, and it takes everything in me to not hit the brakes (even along dangerous roads, where they usually are!) and pick them whenever I see them.

Once, when Dear Husband and I were visiting the some national gardens in D.C. and I leaned down to touch one (I swear!) a lady screamed at me, "DON'T PICK THE FLOWERS!"

I could have used her the other day. The boys and I were driving around a nearby nature center when I spotted a little field of bluebonnets. Without thinking, I stopped the car, jumped out and grabbed a fistful of bluebonnets. As I walked back to the car, I saw a sign on the other end of the field that said, "Do not pick wildflowers." Oh well, I thought at the time.

It wasn't until we were driving home that I remembered that it is AGAINST THE LAW to pick a ladyslipper, Minnesota's state flower. Was it the same for my beloved bluebonnets? It couldn't be! Texas seems to be such a lawless place sometimes (I NEVER see police in our town!); a harmless, flower-picking resident like me would never be prosecuted, right?

The good thing is: I have learned my lesson. I will no longer pick state flowers. I will let them remain growing happily in their fields and allow other people to enjoy them, too. The bluebonnets will be safe next year, as I will not be here. And a bluebonnet by any other name -- lupine -- smells as sweet; there are plenty to be legally picked in Northern Minnesota! =)