Perfect Moments

Last night in a quiet moment before sleep, I lay snuggled against my husband--my leg over his, my hand on his chest, my head resting on his shoulder, his face touching mine. I felt his closeness and breathed him in. I find it strange how deeply his smell touches me. I can't relate it to anything recognizable. I just know that when my face is pressed against him I inhale safety, warmth, comfort, and love.

And then the strangest thing happened. In that moment of perfect contentment, I realized how much I would miss him, his smell, his comfort when he is gone. I have no reason to think that I will lose my husband any time soon. But I have often felt that I will live longer than he will. And last night I recognized how much I would miss him. It struck me so hard that it brought tears to my eyes.

(And now I pray that this was not a premonition. I hope that it was not preparing me for any near tragedy, but merely an opportunity for me to cherish these moments and not take him for granted.)

Curiosity

I was recently exposed to a new children's author, Oliver Jeffers. The boys and I have really enjoyed reading his books together. I enjoy his stories and art. I came across an interview he did and found this quote interesting:

Telling Stories and Asking Questions by Oliver Jeffers, published on 11/9/2013 HuffingtonPost
"I'm a curious person. I grew up that way. An important lesson my dad taught me was that the surest sign of intelligence in an individual, is curiosity, and that 'why' is the most important word in the English language."

Before we were married, I used to think that I was a smart girl, because I did well in school. (On the flip side, Brett didn't make straight A's--you can guess what I thought about his intelligence.) The longer I am married to Brett the more I am impressed with him, and the more I realize how very wrong I was. I regularly reflect on my husband's intelligence and his ability to do anything he set his mind to (except maybe sing...).

I think it all goes back to curiosity. I see how my husband is wired to wonder how things work. Then he figures it out and applies his knowledge. His hobbies are quite varied and self-taught.

It thrills me to see a little of this same curiosity in my son, Ryan. His hands are always busy, and he asks a lot of "why" questions, which I often deflect to my husband. Unfortunately, his schoolwork also resembles his dad's. I am afraid it will require great patience on my part dealing with his approach to school and homework. I hope that I can keep in mind the great things his father has done and look forward to what Ryan has to offer.

(Don't worry, Todd. You and I are both smart in our own ways, even if we don't have that natural curiosity.)

The Quiet Game

During our late lunch this afternoon the boys started playing "The Quiet Game" against each other. Ryan said the loser should drink a half cup of lemon juice. Then he went about trying to lose the game. That boy loves lemons. Daddy saw the silly cheating going on and made up a rule that the loser would have to drink a juice of his choice. We all watched as Brett mixed together olive juice, a dash or two of green Tabasco sauce, some BBQ sauce, a little vinaigrette, and a few squirts of lemon juice. What started out as a little fun has become serious business! The house has never been so quiet. I'm pretty sure that I wasn't part of the game to begin with, but you better believe that this trap door won't be the first to open!

Update: Our house was quiet for over half an hour. A very strange, almost uncomfortable quiet, considering that all four of us were in the house, wide awake. Ryan did the best of all of us, retreating to his room and playing by himself. Finally, the pressure was too much for him. Brett and I watched Ryan come into the kitchen, dip a spoon into the glass waiting on the table, consider the taste . . . and drink it up. Todd, not wanting to be left out, sampled it as well. But it was Ryan who started and finished drinking the two tablespoons of Dad Juice. He followed it up with a loud, "Yay!" that had me and Brett busting up. Far from being the loser in this game, I think Ryan beat us all.

[Ryan said the Dad Juice really wasn't that bad, except for the taste of the BBQ sauce.]

A Case of the Lazy Mom

I try not to be. But more times than I care to admit, I have to admit I am a lazy mom. Case in point: teaching your child how to tie his own shoes. What is the appropriate age for a child to learn how to tie his shoes? I think they should start learning in kindergarten and be proficient maybe by first grade. This was true for my youngest. However, it is only true because he was motivated to learn. He asked for the skill to be demonstrated, watched, practiced, and exerted his independence by doing it himself (even if we were running a little late and I was ready to jump in and just get it done myself). My oldest is finally learning to tie his shoes, and he is (I am embarrassed to say) in the the fourth grade.Yikes! How did I let this happen? The answer--I'm lazy, of course. It was far too easy to keep buying velcro shoes. We have talked about needing to work on this skill together for years. I thought I was committed to making it happen this summer. I had a plan--a plan which quickly fell apart the moment summer began. Right before school started I bought Todd a pair of tie-shoes. We agreed that this was it. It was time for him to learn how to tie his own shoes. And he has. Only he is not using the traditional method. Brett recently taught the whole family a new way to tie our shoes. It is supposed to be much more effective at staying tied. I agree that it seems to be a stronger knot. It is a little awkward, but I prefer using it to tie my own sneakers. So while I am lazy, apparently you can teach an old dog some new tricks.

A Visit With Brett in Maine

I'm still on vacation. I'm currently with my parents in Kittery, Maine. What a summer we have had! I feel very fortunate and hope that I can share some photos to document our trip.

I am thrilled that we were able to have such a nice visit with my husband. Brett, a.k.a. "The Dude" has hiked over 1,800 miles on the Appalachian Trail (2,180 miles from Springer Mountain in Georgia to Katahdin in Maine). He started from Springer Mountain five months ago. Now he has less than 300 miles to finish, which will take about three weeks. We picked him up and brought him back to my parents' house. He was about three hours away by car. Brett spent six days with the family resting and getting his gear back on track.

It was so good to see him, though I continued to be shocked by how much he has changed physically. I told him that it was reassuring that his voice didn't change, otherwise I may not have been able to recognize him. Eventually, I got used to the new him. It won't be nearly as strange being reunited with him when he finishes.

I wish that I were able to hike to the top of Katahdin to see Brett finish the trail, but I will be home by then. The boys will be starting school soon. We knew that if Brett took a week off to be with the family we would be gone by the time he finishes. But it was worth it to have the time together.

For a few photos of Brett on our visit, check out my blog with updates from Brett's A.T. adventure.
http://bretts-at-journal.blogspot.com/2012/07/sat-72112-fri-72712-kittery-me-family.html

More Like Daddy

I think Ryan has been hearing me talk about the similarities I see between him and dad. Lately, he has been asking me, "Who's more like Daddy? Me or Todd?" I try to give a politically-correct answer: "You're both half Mommy and half Daddy." Or, "You are both like Daddy in different ways." I can tell that it makes Ryan feel good to be like his dad. It is sweet. I really don't want to say something or make comparisons that will hurt Todd. But the truth is, sometimes it amazes me to see the similarities between Ryan and Brett.

Some similarities are physical. Both of the boys have blue eyes like their dad. But Ryan's hands are Brett's--big palms and solid fingers. Todd has longer, thinner fingers--perfect for the piano. Ryan's toes are also just like Brett's. He can spread his toes out like Brett. Ryan is proud of this skill, and thinks it's so funny that I can't control or spread out my toes at all. Poor Todd has untalented toes like Mom. Ryan has pointed out that even his belly button is like Brett's "Grand Canyon" belly button.

More than the eyes, hands, and fingers, I continue to marvel at Ryan's curiosity. He approaches things just like Brett. I have mentioned before how Ryan will quickly lose interest in toys or board games. But he can spend forever looking through a junk drawer, playing with a gadget or some other thingamajig. Before we left on vacation, Oma gave the boys some money to spend. After a trip to Walmart, Ryan spent the next week begging me to take him back so he could buy something he saw there. He was relentless. He was thrilled when we finally went back and he bought his prize--a small LED laser pointer/flashlight combo.

While we were at the rodeo, I thought of something else. Neither of my boys likes to be in front of a crowd. But while Todd is shy and a quiet talker even one-on-one, Ryan has no problem striking up a conversation with a stranger. Brett gets sick at the thought of talking in front of a group, but has no problem one-on-one, even with people he has never met. On the plane ride out here, Ryan is the one who told the missionaries in front of us, "Hi. We're Mormon, too." At the rodeo, Ryan jumped right up by himself to get the autograph. He also made friends with the kids behind us. At the parade this morning, Ryan asked the man next to us to pet his dog. Todd and I are much more likely to sit back and keep our questions to ourselves rather than approach a stranger.

Ryan also has a little of the wild in him. He will try a crazy stunt. Just this week Uncle Mike was telling the boys about how he remembers Brett wanting to try out the bark shock collar they had for their dog. After trying it on the low setting, Brett asked him to turn it up higher. And higher, until it hurt. Would Todd do this? No. Ryan thinks fire, fireworks, and the like are cool and exciting. He would love for me to give him free reign to experiment with these things. (No on your life!) Todd approaches life with more caution (like his Mom).

I find the differences and similarities in people an exciting thing to observe. I hope that as I continue to observe my boys that I will be able to see more ways that Todd takes after Brett and Ryan takes after me. I also hope to see ways in which they are uniquely themselves.

For Becca, From Brett (via e-mail 3/5/12)

Made the big climb out of NOC today. It was not as bad as I expected. Cold tonight, around 10 degrees. We will see how the bag keeps warm. Should be in Fontana Dam Wednesday afternoon. Cold day today. Ice all around, but spirits are high (as long as it is not wet). Looking forward to seeing you in two weeks. I love you and really feel your support. I hope everything around the house is not too much. I know you are the best thing that has happened to me. I think about you all the time out here. I wish you were here with me. There are a lot of things that you would like. The views are really nice. I am glad there are no leaves out yet so you can see a lot. I am crawling in bed with a hot water bottle tonight. I love you and you are a good hun. Good night. I bet you are glad that I am gone and you are not fighting the cold house. I have all the cold sleeps I need right now.

The Intimacy of Smell

Last week I finished reading a book by my favorite author of young adult novels, Shannon Hale. It is called "Book of a Thousand Days" and is not part of a series. According to the inside cover, "...this little-known classic fairy tale from the Brothers Grimm is reimagined and reset on the central Asian steppes...."

The main character of the story describes a custom of her people:
"In greeting, we always clasp forearms, touch cheeks, and inhale through our noses so as to breathe in each other's scent"
[I did a little online research and discovered that this really is a customary greeting of the Polynesian island nation, Tuvalu.]
"Smell is the voice of the soul, and this greeting is the most intimate. It's common among family and clan, of course, but I've been on my own for so long, I'd forgotten how warm and wonderful it is" (p. 173).

I find this a fascinating greeting. I can see that it is so intimate that it would be reserved for those dearest to you. As I reflected on various greetings, I found it interesting how we can use all the senses as we greet those close to us. Sight, sound ("Hello"), and touch (hand shake, hug) are natural greetings. But we also include taste (While a kiss is not much of a "taste" of someone else, I know I have experienced a "taste" of my children after kissing a slightly salty forehead.).

Why should smell not be included in our greetings? I often found myself inhaling the newborn baby scent of my boys. What surprised me was how much I would continue to inhale their scent, long after it morphed from newborn to little boy.

"...As we gripped arms, he pulled me closer, resting his cheek against mine, and inhaled through his nose, taking in the breath of my soul" (p. 213).

Before I became a mother, a coworker of mine had told me that she loved the smell of her kids when she leaned in to wake them up in the morning-even when their scent was slightly less than ideal. At the time I thought it was strange. Now, I think I get it. We want to experience those we love with all five senses. We want the memory of them to stick with us, always.

"Things worn closeset to the skin, to the heart, carry the scent of a person, and of course, scent is the breath of the soul" (p. 48-49).

I finished reading this book the week before Brett left. I had noticed in the past that I would breathe in Brett's clean scent, resting my head against his chest in a hug. Last week, I found that I was more intentional--like I wanted to breathe in a part of him and keep that part of him with me while he is away. I would be close to him like that thinking, "I miss him already."

Now I am left to think something along these lines:
"Is it wrong for me to imagine laying my head on his chest and closing my eyes and breathing in his smell?" (p. 214).

Just to clarify: I have no desire to smell Brett as he is currently sure to be smelling.... I would prefer to breathe in the clean "breath of his soul".

Big Adventures

You may be aware that Brett has been working toward a Big Adventure for himself--working, planning, preparing for over a year to do something that will fulfill a life dream of his. I am proud of him for making his dreams come true. He is an inspiration. He demonstrates that dreams don't happen by chance. You have to work to make them come true.

I am excited for him. I look forward to hearing how this Big Adventure changes him. I am looking forward to reading his journal even more than I am looking forward to seeing his photos of the gorgeous scenery.

But I also feel a little envious of his Big Adventure.
Not that I resent him in any way.

And I feel a little left out or left behind from his Big Adventure.
Not that I feel that he is in any way abandoning me or our family.

I just want to have my own Big Adventure.
Not that I have any desire to do the Big Adventure that he is doing....at all.

But I do want to have a Big Adventure that changes me, affects me deeply, creates memories and feelings that are life-lasting.

I will be having my own little adventure this year while Brett is having his Big Adventure. The question is, how can I use my adventure experiences to their greatest advantage? It is my responsibility to make the best use of my time. To be in the moment. To plan activities with my boys that will be meaningful. They may not be life-changing. But we can still create memories and feelings that are life-lasting.

Brett and I had a great conversation this weekend. A real conversation. So many conversations are superficial that those real conversations, by comparison, hit you--Right.There.In the chest.

We talked about adventures, dreams and life-changing experiences. He reminded me that while I may never have a huge chunk of time devoted to a Big Life-Changing Adventure, I have a number of smaller adventures that are important to me.

Brett jokes that I would be gone every other weekend traveling if I could. It's so true, it's not really a joke. But responsibilities at home, church, and school, as well as not having a significant amount of cash, prevent me from traveling much more than once a year. The point is to not let those responsibilities and the busyness of daily life get in the way of me enjoying my life and my little adventures or prevent me from planning my bigger adventures.

Brett shared this quote that he liked with me:
“Everyone knows that tearing feeling between necessity’s pull and your heart’s pull. That balance between needing to pay the bills and having a dream. It is a difficult road. All I [know is] that I [am] determined somehow to follow my heart...”
-Bear Grylls, The Kid Who Climbed Everest

Then I shared this quote with him:
"So many people live within unhappy circumstances and yet will not take the initiative to change their situation because they are conditioned to a life of security, conformity, and conservatism, all of which may appear to give one peace of mind, but in reality nothing is more dangerous to the adventurous spirit within a man than a secure future. The very basic core of a man's living spirit is his passion for adventure. The joy of life comes from our encounters with new experiences, and hence there is no greater joy than to have an endlessly changing horizon, for each day to have a new and different sun." — Chris McCandless

I don't exactly agree with the above quote (by Chris McCandless) for myself, but I get what it is trying to say. I, however, find myself in happy circumstances that include a life of security. It is having that security, both financial and familial, that allows me the freedom to plan new experiences--perhaps not as many as I would wish, but certainly more than I would have otherwise. I may not be a great explorer or an individual with a "passion" for adventure, but I do have my own little set of dreams and hopes and desires for new experiences. And I feel blessed to have a husband who loves me and encourages me to pursue those things that matter to me.

Brett and I concluded our conversation with the idea that while some dreams may come about spontaneously--for us, our dreams are most likely to happen with careful planning. Say it. Write it. See it. Plan it. Do it.

Here are some adventures we hope for:
2013- A family ski trip
(and perhaps another trip to Germany for Becca)
2014- Grand Canyon!!
2016- Taking the boys to Germany

Later that evening I asked Todd (who was not a part of the above conversation at all), "Todd, you know how Dad is having a great adventure this year....What adventure would you want to do for yourself?" His reply, "The Grand Canyon. ...and white water river rafting." I look forward to sharing our family plans with him and giving him the chance to see his dream become a reality.

I am happy that my boys have a father who can show them, teaching them by example, the way to make their dreams come true. I hope that they will be able to do the same for themselves one day.

Loyal

Copper is Brett's dog - one hundred percent.
He always has been.
Copper loves to play Frisbee with Brett. Brett can throw the Aerobie for Copper from our back yard clear across the golf fairway, and Copper chases after it with top speed. Copper loves that game, and it has proven to be the best and easiest way to exercise him. He will keep on chasing the Aerobie throw after throw. Afterwards, he'll sprawl out on the kitchen floor panting so loudly that I can't hear myself think. However, he only wants to play with Brett. If I try throwing the Aerobie for Copper he might trot out to retrieve it. But his heart isn't in the game, and he usually gives up after one or two throws.

But, I know Copper loves me too. About halfway through the school year I started bringing Copper to the bus stop every morning. Copper starts getting excited as soon as I put Todd's lunch in his backpack and zip it up. Nothing distracts Copper from coming with me--even Brett. There were a number of times in the afternoon when Brett would be home working in the garage when it was time for Todd to come home from school. Brett would try to trick Copper into staying with him rather than coming along with me. I won every time.

It was also evident that Copper loves me a week or so ago when we had a strong thunderstorm in the wee hours of the morning. Copper has become more sensitive to storms with each passing year, and I woke up to find Copper climbing all over me. This is not behavior that I generally tolerate. Though Brett tried to call Copper over to him (and off of me), Copper would not budge. He was determined to find comfort from the nurturer of the family--Mama. Although he woke me up from a good sleep and it took a little while for him to settle back down, I will admit that it warmed my heart that I was the one he looked to to calm his fears.

So, maybe Copper is not 100% Brett's. Maybe he's 15% mine, too.

Fast! Go, Joe!

In the moments before I fall asleep I often pester Brett with some of the most random thoughts. A few nights ago, after getting up to put medicated chest rub on my coughing son I came back and asked Brett:

Me: Do you know what I love? . . . Fast Orange (which I sometimes refer to as "Agent Orange"). It is so great for cleaning hands. It worked great getting that slimy lotion off. Do you think the average Joe knows about Fast Orange?
Brett: I don't know.
Me: When did you discover Fast Orange?
Brett: Like when I was 14.
Me: I mean, it's great for washing your hands after gardening, and getting greasy things off . . .
Brett: Well, that's what it's marketed for. But Fast Orange isn't the only stuff out there.

By now I have started drifting back to sleep and am already in a car with my driver. Suddenly the driver hears someone call out, "Go, Joe!" He quickly opens the car door and rolls out in a very James-Bond-like maneuver.

Brett: GoJo.
Me: Huh?
Brett: GoJo. That's another big name.
Me: Weird.

Half-asleep or not, I love Fast Orange and am thankful to my husband for introducing it to me.

Windy Church Bells

A couple of months ago Brett completed one of his just-for-fun projects--a big wind chime. It may not look like much, but it really does have a deep, beautiful (and loud) sound. Shortly after Brett hung it up Donna and I were talking in the backyard. She stopped and asked, "Are those the church bells I hear?" I was happy to introduce her to the source of the sound, and have often since thought that they do sound like church bells.

We had a fairly windy winter and early spring, and even with the doors closed you could often hear the chimes ringing. I am a little sorry that now that the weather has warmed up and we have been able to keep the doors open all day, the wind has died down a bit and I hear the chimes less often. Not only do I hope for a little wind to keep the temperature in check, but I hope to continue hearing the music.

Thank you Brett for this surprise project which I have enjoyed more than I thought I would.

Snowshoe 2010

It's the moment you've all been waiting for--the report on our ski trip in February...
I am happy to report that we had no car troubles, no injuries, no pneumonia, and we made it safely through the blizzard on our drive home.
In addition to that, we had a great time!


Winter landscapes are so beautiful.

We skied for five days, and each day was a different skiing experience. Rainy and cool, Foggy and cool, clear and cold, and freezing cold blizzards. (Those are two cold noses on the right!)

Our best day of skiing was on Wednesday. At the beginning of the week I was still "warming up" and gaining confidence. It was foggy and sprinkling rain, and the snow wasn't the best. On Wednesday the conditions were really good. I was able to go back and conquer the black diamond that had gotten the best of me the day before (meaning I fell without injury--but still, I hate falls of any kind. I find it humiliating.)
[It may not look it, but this was a relatively steep black diamond I was so proud of skiing successfully.]

Although Brett pushed me to try some of the more difficult slopes, I still loved skiing some of the slower green slopes. Snowshoe has two trails that start at opposite ends of the mountain top and cross half-way down the mountain, ending at opposite ends at the bottom, essentially making an "x" as you look at the trail map. They are a little more narrow, and are often not too crowded. I find it so peaceful going down those trails when there are few skiers around.

Brett finds them boring, so we would often split up and meet at the bottom to go up one of the chair lifts together.

It worked out quite well that way. Sometimes we would ski a slope together, sometimes we would split up, but it was always nice being able to chat together on the lifts, enjoying each other's company.

We were on the slopes when they opened at 9:00 AM and were there when they closed at 4:30 PM, though we always came home for a lunch break. We also went night skiing a few times. We didn't make it the first night, because it was raining and after just one day of skiing we were already exhausted. (Advil was my friend that week!)

Like I said above, our best skiing was on Wednesday. On Thursday a storm started coming in, and the snow was a little more difficult to ski in. I was glad that we were able to get a few hours of skiing in on Friday before we left. It had snowed all night, and was still coming down in the morning. My calves felt bruised from all the skiing we had done. But Friday ended up being so much fun. The snow was so thick that you didn't pick up any speed. You couldn't see your skis as you went down, and often the snow was up to your knees.

It was the only time when falling wasn't humiliating. Instead, it was outright funny. We would be plowing through, come to a deep patch of snow, stop, and just fall over. [Funny for us, because we didn't attempt to ski the blue or black slopes that day. There were some who did sustain injuries from falls that day, which is never funny.] It was a perfect, easy day to end on.

There had been some snow on our balcony when we arrived, but by Friday morning it was covered.

Although we had a great day skiing on Friday morning, the conditions made us a little nervous on the ride home. A tractor trailer had jack-knifed on the road we were trying to get down on. It caused some delay, but were were able to make it down okay. There were a few times when we slid a bit, and I prayed hard more than once that we would be okay. When we finally made it through the worst of the weather and were safely in North Carolina I was able to offer a sincere prayer of gratitude for our safety. Skiing in the blizzard was fun for us--driving in the snow was not.

We spent many hours driving there and back. As usual, Brett and I were good travel buddies. We both agree that listening to NPR's Car Talk is a great way to pass the time. Click and Clack crack me up. I love their humor. I never thought I would enjoy listening to a public radio program about cars, but it's true. I love it.

I had hoped to spend a little time browsing the shops in the mountaintop village, but when we weren't skiing we were resting and warming up in the condo. So, instead of bringing home souvenirs for the boys (or anyone else), we filled our cooler up with snow and had a snowball fight with the boys in the driveway at home. So fun!

So, we made it safe and sound.

Thank you to all those who made this trip possible. I feel blessed that I am able to leave my children (and dog) at home under the loving care of my sister, sister-in-law, and for the most part with my in-laws. I never worried a moment about them, knowing that they were having a great time with their other family members having a vacation of their own.

Getting My Hopes Up

Two years ago around Valentine's Day, Brett and I took our first real kid-free vacation since having kids. We decided to go back to Snowshoe Mountain in West Virginia for a week of skiing.

We had been there once before when I worked at Sandestin, another Intrawest-owned resort. I had received a free two-night/three day ski package in a beautiful one-bedroom condo in the center of their mountain-top village. We had a great time and I couldn't wait to come back.

In 2008 we finally decided the boys were old enough for us to leave them while we returned to Snowshoe for five days of skiing. We decided to make the most of our vacation by going through Great Smoky Mountains National Park.

We went tent camping (!) in the mountains (!!) in February (!!!). I wore my fuzzy blue bathrobe and my headband to bed and remained quite cozy. Brett's sock hat had fallen off during the night leaving his shaved head exposed.


We spent the next day driving through the Blue Ridge Parkway.

By the time that we got to Shenandoah National Park, the little cold that Brett had felt coming on the day before had worsened.

As soon as we got to the Inn at Snowshoe, Brett put himself to bed with pneumonia and stayed there most of the week.

He drugged himself as best he could with DayQuil and managed to hit the slopes a few times.

For the most part, I was left on my own. I still enjoyed myself, but I was lonely without him, and felt sorry that he was feeling so bad.

As we left Snowshoe Brett said, "I never want to see this place again." And I believed him. He had been miserable. It was arguably the worst vacation he had ever had.

We still receive promotional e-mails and brochures from Snowshoe from time to time. With all of the snow on the East Coast that has been in the news lately, Brett recently wondered aloud, "How much snow do you think Snowshoe has gotten this year?" Then he said, "Hey! Do you want to skiing?" I quickly and enthusiastically responded, "YES!" even though I knew he was only joking.

The next day Brett started looking at their web site and suggested that I give them a call to find out more about the rates and ski packages. I still didn't think he was serious until he called me the next afternoon (he never calls me!) and asked if I checked the rates yet.

After discussing the rates together I confided in Brett that I was in serious danger of getting my hopes up; I was starting to feel the excitement of a possible ski vacation rising in my chest. He replied, "Don't do that. Don't get your hopes up." Oh, but I have!

When Brett asked me the next day if I had called his parents to see if they could watch the boys, I knew he was completely serious.

Today sealed the deal. We are going skiing again! At Snowshoe! Even though Brett swore that I would never have that special privilege again on account of how miserable he was the last time! We leave in just over one week.

All I can say is, we better have a fabulous time. Otherwise Brett will hold true to his promise of no future ski trips to Snowshoe. And I don't want that to happen. Wish us luck!

Our First Season of Baseball (2009)

Last spring I hesitantly signed Todd up for baseball. I can't say I regret it. But neither can I say I always had the best attitude. I was nervous about how the baseball schedule might disrupt our afternoon and evening activities of homework, piano lessons, free time, and most importantly, family dinner. It all worked out (thanks to help of extended family many-a-night), and Todd had a great time. However, with baseball season approaching in mid-February, I find that I am feeling that same sense of dread--especially with two boys playing this season.

Both boys are looking forward to the season starting. I need to keep reminding myself that it will all work our fine, just as it did last year. I know that I will have to rely on Oma and Papa to help out even more this year since both my piano lessons and the number of baseball players in our home have doubled. I am so thankful to have grandparents so close, and I am thankful that they are looking forward to being involved with the boys sports (probably more than I am, to be honest).

So, to remind myself that it wasn't so bad, let's take a look at all the fun we had last year.

First team meeting in uniform before Opening Ceremonies.

Todd takes his running seriously.

The boys had a blast on Opening Day with the inflatable slides, cake walk, trampoline, and more! I didn't love spending the money that I did, but....I guess it's for a good cause, and the boys really had a fun time.

Thank goodness for an active and helpful Oma!

Ryan often got bored being a spectator. If he wasn't able to find some kids to run around and play with he was usually sitting in someone's lap.

Todd took playing baseball seriously, and learned a lot more about the game last year.

Patiently waiting his turn, and keeping a close eye on the progress of the game.

Good job, Todd!

End-of-the-year team party.

So proud of his trophy!

Hurrah! It's over! (My sentiments--Todd probably felt otherwise.)

Our Year With the Wrens

I posted about out momma bird and her babies twice last year, but I want to finish telling the story of our wrens. We love that Mrs. Wren has chosen to make our home her home. Wrens are such smart little birds who are very creative in finding a comfortable place to sleep.

Last March, Mr. and Mrs. Wren built a nest on a high shelf in the garage. I was too short to get a peek inside the nest, but I enjoyed seeing the babies as they got a little older. Mrs. Wren had grown quite accustomed to Brett, who spends many hours in the garage. When the babies hatched Brett was able to save Mrs. Wren some time by feeding her some meal worms, which she passed on to her babies. Though Mr. Wren was never quite as comfortable with us, we were still able to watch him help out in feeding the babies from time to time.

The babies were ready to leave the nest for the first time on a day that was raining cats and dogs outside. I was startled when I went into the garage to do some laundry and there was chirping from every direction. They were all over the garage, especially by the window. We didn't want to lose any of them in the storm, so we kept the doors closed. We were happy to see that they all made it back to their nest that night--though Brett did have to rescue a few of them from the garbage can and an old glass milk bottle! Their wings had not grown all the way yet, and when they fell in they weren't able to fly out. The next day was beautiful and sunny, so we opened the doors and watched the birds as they made their way outside. It was fun to see how they communicated with their Mama to keep close together. They stayed pretty close to the house for the next few days, but eventually we weren't able to spot the little family flock anymore.

We were so excited when Mrs. Wren built another nest in the garage in May. This time she built it in a little cubby under the cabinet beside my washer/dryer--the perfect height for me to peek into. By now Mrs. Wren was quite accustomed to our presence, and obviously didn't mind us going about our usual work. Every time I worked on the laundry I passed by her nest and said "Good morning." I still can't believe that she chose that spot right next to the dryer (we have stackable machines) to make her nest.

Again, Brett was able to feed Mama; we were able to watch the babies grow; saw them leave the nest; and kept up with them until they left our yard. Brett thinks Mr. and Mrs. Wren made another nest later in the summer outside.

Here are some photos of our little Wren family.
They start out as such tiny eggs:

Mama dutifully kept her eggs warm. Good morning, Mrs. Wren.

Those baby birds sure are hungry a lot!

Wrennie want a meal worm?

It's getting crowded in here...

Fuzzy, tail-less, baby bird:

Don't fly into the garbage can anymore. You'll get stuck, and I won't always be around to bail you out.

We still saw Mrs. Wren from time to time around the house, and occasionally in the garage. But what surprised us most was to discover that this winter she started using the garage as a place to sleep at night. She discovered that the moving blankets and throw rug I had stashed on top of the dryer made a warm, cozy bed. I don't blame her. It has been freezing outside! (You can't see her, but she's tucked in there, fast asleep.)

Almost every night since the middle of December she has made her bed there. She comes around the same time every night. Brett likes to be in the garage right about 5:00pm to see her come in. Sometimes she chatters at him as if to say, "What are you doing in my house? I'm ready to go to sleep!" before flying into bed.

I'm not sure what she was doing yesterday morning, but she sure got mad at me when I came in to do some laundry. She chattered and chattered at me. So I quickly transferred my laundry and went back inside to give her some privacy.

She is full of personality, and we have enjoyed watching her this last year. We hope that Mrs. Wren will feel comfortable raising some babies near us again this Spring.

We'll leave our bird-door open for you, Mrs. Wren!