Firefighters and a bag of ice

As a mother of two ornery toddler boys, I've come to expect excitement. Today's excitement included the following:

 

*One hand stuck in the mall elevator (courtesy of Charlie)

*Two frantic moms (not including myself) pushing every button possible on the elevator to release said hand

*One mall security guard who called the paramedics upon hearing Charlie's screams echo throughout the mall (even though Charlie was now released from the evil elevator and starting to calm down quite nicely)

*One police officer

*Five firefighters

*Two paramedics

*One extremely excited Emmett

*A dozen curious onlookers

 

The end result?

*One bruised hand

*One bag of ice from the food court

*One beer (for me...of course)

 

The boys also got these, so clearly all worth it.

 

 

After leaving the mall and driving by the firetruck and ambulance on our way out, Charlie noted, "Firetrucks are for emergencies. I wonder what they're doing. They must be helping someone that got hurt."

 

Yup.



Reflections on moving, Part 2

As previously mentioned, moving with toddlers is pure madness. But as I reflect on our new home and the reason we moved, the madness was definitely worth it.

I'm home.

Really home.

I'll be here forever home. (Regardless of what Greg might say.)

 

Greg and I had been casually checking out the housing market for over a year in the search for our "dream home." Every few months a home would catch our eye and we'd go see it. Since we weren't in a hurry, we knew we could be picky. At one point, we had even put an offer on a short sale. In hindsight, we were very lucky they didn't take our offer. It simply wasn't our home. This is our home.

 

It was love at first sight. We walked in the front door and Greg was ready to write up an offer. The practical side in me insisted on seeing the rest of the house first. (After all, we did consider an earlier house until we discovered the ceiling in the basement was sagging.) After giddily walking through the home, knowing we had found "our home," we told our realtor we wanted it. Bad. Seeing as we were the seventh people to look at it that day (its first day on the market), she recommended writing a letter to the owners to accompany the offer. In case there were multiple offers, we might as well pull at their heart strings in an effort to get their serious attention.

 

My years writing proposals, reports and grants for nonprofits served me well. In a succinct note to the owners, I succeeded in making them cry. Here's my note:

 

We are very excited about the opportunity to purchase your beautiful home. As a family with two small boys, ages two and a half and one, we are looking for a home in which to raise our boys and grow into. Immediately upon walking into your home, we realized this is the place for us. We could see years of of back yard barbeques, family dinners and holiday memories. Not only do we see it as a perfect home for our toddlers—lots of space to play, nooks and crannies to explore and an open floor plan to keep an eye on their mischief—but we also see it as a perfect home for when they are teenagers, with the great media room and basement, large yard, ideal location and schools.

We appreciate and value the work you have put into your home and the care you have shown it. We will take pride in this home, fill it with new family memories and allow it to tell the story of our family.

Thank you for considering our offer.

 

Now that we are settled in, it's time for the real fun to begin. We get to make this our home, create our memories and begin a new chapter. Oh, and we also get to begin renovation projects. While the 1980's were lovely, it's time to say goodbye to them in my house.

 

My favorite spot.

 

View out our front window (on a beautiful winter day).

 

View out our back window.

 

 The deer who like to play in our yard.

 

I'm home.



Reflections on moving, Part 1

Moving with toddlers is true madness. So buying a new home and selling our old home was a true test in mastering the madness. While I'm not sure I can say I "mastered" the move, I can say we have five weeks under our belt in our new home (which I love). Now that the dust has settled, boxes are unpacked and pictures are on the wall, I've taken a few moments to reflect on my homes, both past and present.

 

A home has a unique role. It not only provides shelter and warmth, but it also carries our stories. The home we sold was our first house and it holds a special place in our family. Greg and I bought it shortly after we were married and it was there for several milestones.

 

We welcomed Charlie home from the hospital.

We welcomed Emmett home from the hospital.



 

We said goodbye to Taz.

 

Granted, it holds other milestones, too. The family of raccoons who took up residence in our attic. The family of mice who visited during the winter of 2011. The time Charlie rode his Radio Flyer horse down the stairs (unsuccessfully). And the time Charlie pushed Emmett down the stairs while he was riding his bumble bee (also unsuccessfully). There's also the time the basement flooded with sewage three days after we moved in. But I digress...

When I reflect on what I miss most about that house, it is the nursery. This beautiful cloud-filled room.

 It started as Charlie's room, then became Emmett's when he was born. (No, Emmett never got his name on the wall. Poor second child.) I spent countless hours in that room and in that chair specifically. Rocking my babies to sleep, late night bottles, soothing ear infections, reading stories.

 

 I think we read approximately 4,500 stories in that chair! It's true! 2 at naptime + 3 at bedtime x 2.5 years (912 days) = 4,560 stories, give or take a few. (My children should have a deep appreciation for books. It also explains why I have several books memorized beginning to end...Goodnight Moon, The Going to Bed Book, Roadwork...to name a few.)

 

The day we handed possession over to the new family, I did one last walk-through. As I walked through the house one last time, the overwhelming feeling I had was of being truly blessed. The short season of life we spent in that home was a good one, and I felt like we had been showered with blessings while we were there. I pray the new family experiences the same joy and abundance. 

 

Thank you, Napa Place home!

 

 

 

 

 

A perfect pumpkin patch day

I am learning that the key to mastering the madness is savoring the sweet and special moments with the boys. Amidst a devastating week for metro Denver, a busy week personally, and even a little wind and rain, we had a perfect day.
 

A perfect day at the pumpkin patch with good friends.
 

Charlie found some new buddies.

A tractor "ride" with a real buddy.

 Hanging out with the pigs.

And cows.

And even a hay ride!

As if that wasn't great enough, we finished the evening at "Truck Park" (aka Observatory Park). Truck Park deserves a post of its own, as it's a magical place. Truly, it's like heaven for a boy. 

 Seriously, these truck just live at the park! No words to explain how much we love Truck Park.

Today I'm feeling thankful for so much.

Amazing boys.

Great husband.

Fabulous friends.
 

Oh, and don't forget about pumpkins and Truck Park.



Pumpkins versus Emmett

Charlie has a new buddy. Well, a few new buddies. We've recently been joined by "Big P" and the "Little Ps". Nope, not a rock band. Pumpkins.

 

Charlie took great care in picking out a few pumpkins from the grocery store. They have since accompanied him/us throughout town.

 

Here's "Big P" tucked in before Charlie went to bed.

Here are the "Little Ps" joining us for bagels.

(I didn't have the heart to tell them we were eating pumpkin bagels with pumpkin cream cheese.)

 

The other day, as I was putting Emmett to bed, Charlie noticed Big P had an "owie." With great concern, he wanted to clean it off properly. Knowing Charlie had Big P's owie under control, I continued to focus on Emmett's bedtime routine. Emmett was not pleased (possibly with Charlie's continued banter about Big P's issues) and was crying in a fit of rage. Above the crying, I could hear Charlie say, "Maybe he wants me to scratch his back." (A favorite of Charlie's when he wants to snuggle or feels out-of-sorts.) I was so touched that Charlie wanted to soothe Emmett with a gesture of such love and kindness. 

 

As I turned around to kneel down so Charlie could scratch Emmett's back...I discovered Charlie gently and lovingly scratching Big P's back.

 

Emmett who?

 

 



Mastering the madness...or something like that

Prior to staying at home full time with my boys, I worked at an amazing company with amazing coworkers and amazing clients.

 

 

When a five-year project with one of my favorite clients was coming to a close, we spent a lot of time in reflection. In one of our meetings the concept of mastery came up--the notion of truly understanding and having great skill in a particular area. The concept stuck with me. I had often considered myself "The Jack of all trades, but the master of none."  I decided I wanted to master the things that were important to me.

 

I wanted to master my job...the art of being a mother...my role as a wife...and the list goes on.

 

Seeing as I'm now a stay-at-home mom, it is clear that didn't work. When trying to master everything, I found myself mastering nothing. So in a bold and difficult move, I streamlined my life.

Now I'm simply trying to master being a mother and a wife.

In my quest to master the madness, I have visions of my kids always looking like this:

 

and serving up dinners that look like this:

 

 

But let's face it. Sometimes life is more like this:

 

or this:

and dinner on particularly rough nights looks like this:

 

 

It's in those moments that I'm pretty sure the madness is mastering me.

 

 But I'll keep trying anyway.