May Days

May is a blessed month, isn't it?!? Summer is so close, I literally can smell it.  And taste it.  And hear it (no really....have you been reading about our 17-year old cicadas.  30 billion beasts of nasty).

May has been just about equal parts hot and sunny and windy and rainy.  Making conditions perfect for Miss Eden to catch her first cold.  Aren't her little red puffy eyes pathetic .  Poor little lady. She's all better now and happily wreaking havoc.  

Oh.  Unless you leave Tess in charge of entertaining her in the dressing room.  Then she gets real angry.  Every. Single. Time.

At least the 3-year old found joy in capturing her baby sister's bitterness on the electronic bribing device. 

Allen and I chaperoned Mormon Prom.  Because he's all up in the Stake Young Men's Presidency these days and that's what they do.

I had explicit instructions to not go out and buy a sparkly fancy dress (buzz kill), and to not go out and bust a move.  Or ten.  It was near impossible and required several and frequent reminders.  I can't help it.  I'm just so much fun on the dance floor.  And every floor, really. 

 Just the beauty looking beautiful.

 Nightly piggy back rides have become a must if I am to get this beast to her bed efficiently.  And I only do bedtime efficiently.

And no May is complete without Spirit Week which means crazy hair day.  Ryder proclaimed, "I don't know if I look like a girl or an old man or a punk rocker, but either way, it's AWESOME." 

Which is obviously a reflection of his awesome mother.

Not pictured: Annual Memorial Day BBQ/picnic with the ward.  We brought ourselves a pizza.  Because we are super American.  God bless us all. Amen.

Eden at Eight Months

  Lately I have found myself caught in a constant tug-of-war with time.

 Part of me is begging time to hurry by.  To bring the end of school and the start of summer. To trade the hurried mornings and bustling afternoons for lazy days spent soaking in sunshine.

 But then there is a part of me desperate for the seconds to stop disappearing.  To freeze Eden burrowing her sweet smelling head into my shoulders. To capture that sparkle in those crystal blue eyes every time she sees my face and never let it fade.  To always let peek-a-boo incite instant giggling.

 Time is a mighty fickle thing.

Eden is moving fast-forward (she eats like a 12 year old, sprouted her second tooth, has begun to explore the options of mobility and is a completely schizophrenic sleeper), yet most days seem to be spent on pause.  

                                                        Such a strange creature, time is.

The Boy Turned Nine

...and he's feeling fine.

His parents on the other hand...

This year we celebrated with the easiest and happiest birthday party to date.

To accomplish, you begin by buying 4 super rad laser tag guns. Quality counts on this one.

 Next, you invite 3 besties to shoot up.  Tender hearts need not apply.

 Finally, the helpful husband drives the 4 gun slingers to the local wooded park, where said slingers massacre one another until all 4 are dead and/or exhausted.

 At this point, it is safe to return to the homestead, where pizza has been delivered and the cake adorned with candles.

Wishes are made.

And the heads of household give themselves a big, fat pat on the back.

Such a fun age to see this boy establish meaningful and lasting friendships.  He was so happy and no one was in a rush for the day to end.  Which happens to me, never.

Monday, on his actual birthday, he requested an adult steak meal at Outback.  And he ate every last bite, down to the final cheese fry. It was a little bit gross impressive.  

I love you so much Ryderman.  You truly are the best boy on the planet. You are funny and witty and smarter than you should be.  You are mature and silly and adventurous and stubborn and responsible.  I love discovering more about you every day as I get to watch you grow into your little manself.  Happy Birthday #1!!!