Eight Years

I feel I should be making some statement about how old I must be getting to have a son who is eight years old as if it somehow sprung up on me. Strangely, it didn't happen like that. I have been watching it unfold all year long. I have watched a rambunctious attention seeking boy mellow a bit, help out a lot, and try to please. Isaac entertains Burke in good humor and is the first to obey. He is clearly eight and capable of making good decisions and though I do not wish the years to continue to fly by as they do (now that I am old) I am excited to see where he will take himself and hope he will succeed. I think he will.

Holding true to tradition

Isaac has a new found love for basketball

The brothers...Theron has given Isaac at least two presents per day over the last few days. These guys are a wild crew but there's a lot of love going around.

The birthday boy looking like a true scouter

Happy Birthday Isaac!!

Roadtrip

Herbert the Snail

It's true I often say, "Burke is making me crazy!" Though I love that boy more than I could really express he really does push me to the limit many times each day! On this day it happened to be because when I blinked (how dare I) he emptied 28 fluid ounces (minus two squirts) of baby wash into his bath water.

When I discovered it I was so mad! I whisked him away, as he screamed and cried for his bubbles, and put him to bed. After he was asleep I felt the reality of my cruelty and the loss of an opportunity to make fun memories with Burke so...I did the only thing I could think to do with a bathtub FULL of bubbles. I let Isaac play in it! It made me feel a teensy tiny bit better about being so uptight and missing out on fun moments with my kids. Poor Burke!

Isaac had such a great time. The bubbles were amazing. Trav, Isaac, and I had a great time with those bubbles thanks to poor Burky boy!
My hastiness made me think of this great song that my boys love called Herbert the Snail. Sometimes I sing it to them when it seems they could be reminded to have a little more patience. I wonder how much better my days would turn out if I just sang this song all day long every day to myself?

There was a snail called Herbert who was so very slow.
He caused a lot of traffic jams wherever he would go.
The ants were always getting mad and the beetles they would fume,
But Herb would always poke along and sing this little tune.

Have patience, have patience. Don't be in such a hurry.
When you get impatient you only start to worry.
Remember, remember that God is patient too
And think of all the times when others wait for you.

When Herbert was much younger, he often got in trouble.
Forgetting that he was a snail he did things on the double.
He'd crash through every spider web and with crickets he'd collide.
'Til one day Herbert's father took his speeding son aside.

Have patience, have patience. Don't be in such a hurry.
When you get impatient you only start to worry.
Remember, remember that God is patient too
And think of all the times when others wait for you.

As you can well imagine there's a moral to this tale.
Some of you may find yourselves behind a creeping snail.
So if you get impatient and you're easily disturbed,
Think about this little song and take a tip from Herb.

Have patience, have patience. Don't be in such a hurry.
When you get impatient you only start to worry.
Remember, remember that God is patient too
And think of all the times when others wait for you.

Just for fun

Travis and Theron in the airplane bathroom for the 47th time. At least Travis is still smiling.

Friends with kids

I stole this letter from a friend.

When Travis gets home from work most days he asks me what I did that day. To which I often respond, "Oh...just sat around and watched TV and ate Bonbons all day." I typically get a decent smirk out of him and then he excuses the mess or chaos that he has just come home to knowing that I likely had a very busy, crazy day. The truth is I don't even know what a Bonbon is and I can't remember the last time the TV was on for the pleasure of either of the adults living in this house.

Other days he calls home during the day to see how it is going. I have been known to ask, "Did you hear about the tornado? Well, it hit down right in the middle of the living room." This is code for the house is a disaster and I'm trying to stay in good humor.

Just for fun:

12:10 am Travis and I get into bed to sleep
2:35 am Burke climbing into bed next to me
2:37 am me scooping Burke up and hauling him off to his own bed
5:11 am Burke climbing into bed next to me
5:12 am me HAULING him off to his own bed
5:27 am me getting back into bed with tired knees
6:15 am Burke climbing into bed with me along with his animal book
6:15:03 am me GRABBING the book and HAULING him down the hall to his bed

After leaving and coming back to finish this post three times now I am too tired to finish the play-by-play but...I made three lunches, poured five bowls of Cheerios, prayed with the hubs and kissed him good-bye, tied one pair of shoes, brushed four heads of hair (of course, not my own), washed laundry, read scriptures with the boys, missed the bus at the bus stop for the first time this year, drove two boys to school, changed a poopy diaper in the pouring rain in the parking lot of the post office, mailed a baby gift to Heidi, bought milk and ice cream (it is Friday after all) at the convenience store...in the pouring rain, drove home, ran around the back yard picking up toys nearly blown away by the wind...in the pouring rain, changed the train battery, served cupcakes as a not so healthy snack, and deposited the two small stinkers who are at home with me into a nice big bubble bath.
Today I still intend to wash and fold several more loads of laundry, clean three toilets, take a shower, make my bed, vacuum, unload the dishwasher and go on a date with my husband. Now here I am BLOGGING? Some might wonder about my ability to prioritize. But I reason, "How else will I be able to remember the craziness of it all?"