Gravel Goats

So we are apparently stockpiling gravel.

Arts and Crafts

 Grandpa Herb sent the boys a Christmas fun box, including the very popular Batman shirt that Deacon is pictured in.  Alas, a Batman mask was needed, but not readily available.  Thank goodness Bryce is ultra handy with a marker and scissors. 

Deacon couldn't figure out how to attach it to his head, though.  Thankfully I was there.  With scotch tape.

I pretty much colapsed laughing.  Deacon was not amused by the tape.

Chainsaw!

 So Bryce is pretty excited about Deacon's birthday chainsaw.

Everyday Busy

December is a busy month! I love seeing what all my little guys are up to in the same minutes, and this was it.

So far we've given Sean his Christmas gift early: a rain forest jumperoo, which he loves! Deacon dresses himself in his birthday camo as soon as it cycles through the wash, and he spent a quiet morning playing with the hand-on Nativity set, being sure to include Captain America.  Kyle has adopted a new diversion: find two of the same book (don't ask me why we have multiple copies) or similar copies (such as two Babars, pictured above); he'll sort of read both at the same time (from memory).  A cute variation of this game is when he gives me a copy to really read, whilst he follows along and repeats after me--his language is getting so great! And then we have poor sicky: Bryce.  The boy with the iron constitution fell to the curse of the black lung.  He coughed so much that he threw up multiple times, and throughout the missed school and mom-mandated rest til your bored to tears, he always (and I mean always) had the best of attitudes.  No whining, no complaining, no fussing, no milking it. Although I wish he hadn't gotten sick, it was such a wonderful part of his character to observe--we were so proud of him!  And when he was finally well enough to tackle his homework, he attacked with enthusiasm and drive.  What a good buddy.

How I manage to ever make dinner

Deacon is so good with the baby.  Deacon is so good with Kyle.  He is just a fantastic kids all around, and I sort of never want him to get any bigger.

Deacon's newsest favorite

Workerman Birthdayman Deacon

Guess who's six . . .

Deacon John!
He requested a chocolate-chocolate cake, and sprinkles and picked out which cake plate he wanted (oh the small things that make me happy).  He even chose a family favorite for dinner Spaghetti with Sans-Vodka Sauce.  He is wearing his new camo clothes from cousins Katie & Colton--he had worn an older camo shirt for gift opening, but when he opened the new camo he kept his old shirt on underneath.  Phil asked why, and said, "Aren't going to get hot?"  Deacon replied, "Dad, when a bad guy comes and takes my new shirt, I'll have my old one underneath and so I can smack him!"

(I took so many photos of Deacon with his cake, and yet he blinked everytime--but you can enjoy Bryce's smile in the background.)

The Middles

Deacon & Kyle play, play, play together so well (most of the time).  Kyle loves to mimic Deacon's antics--and Deacon is a tough, imaginative little guy so that's great!  Deacon is also great at protecting his little brother, and including him, and helping him succeed--as in getting the bike set up for a ride, or finding a truck, or making sure Kyle has a shovel too.

However, Kyle, is not appreciative of the safe-keeping factor and when I hear a piercing wail of discontent, most usually it's following an attempt at redirection on Deacon's part: "Mom, Kyle was  . . ." is how almost every explanation of Deacon's starts.  And 9 times out of 10, I reply, "Good job protecting your brother!"  Sometimes I say, "Let go of his arm.  He's not a wagon".  Okay, a lot of the time I say that.
But he [Deacon] always means well.  

Family of Six

Sean (1 day shy of 5 weeks!), Phil (2 days shy of 38!), Deacon (5 1/2), Lauren (33), Bryce (7 exactly!!), Kyle (3)

Kelly made a New Year's resolution to a family photo each month, and I thought it was a great idea, and resolved to someday make the same resolution!  So far we have one for August (at the hospital, and it was a gem of me, so I'm not sharing), and now one for September!

August 27-First Day of School-First Family of 6 Carride

School began for Bryce (first grade with Mrs. McIvor) and Deacon (preschool with Mrs. Rust) way back on Monday, August 27th. The boys are loving being back at school.
 Last Friday night was Back to School night, and the first time Bryce got to have a hot lunch at school (Fridays are typically order from a fast food restaurant days). After school Bryce told me, "That roast beef sandwich was awesome". Not even with an exclamation point, but a solid carved in stone very-important fact that should be noted, and repeated. He continued, "I got potato bites and two cookies". Pretty much his best lunch ever.
Speaking of lunch: Phil has convinced this child that butterscotch pudding is better than chocolate--so in his school lunches each day he gets the butterscotch pudding, and Deacon eats a chocolate pudding at home each day, and Kyle refuses to eat any pudding products. I limit myself to licking the chocolate pudding lid--such self control.

And speaking of that first car ride, I attached a noisy buttony toy to the side of Sean's carseat that's nearest to Kyle, so that Kyle has something other than Sean to poke.  So far, so good.

Sylvester

We're teaching Sean to enjoy Loony Tunes right from the get-go. Such good parents. Kyle usually likes to sit with the big boys, but tonight he cozied up in the glider (that I need to recover). That is the best chair ever, by the way. I sort of wish I'd captured the state that is our bedroom. Two weeks ago one of the bookshelves collapsed against the sleigh-bed headboard. And now I have an amazing stack of boxed books tucked in a corner--it looks like the start of a Hoarders episode. Rather than dash out for another cheapo shelving unit, I'm hoping that once Phil's shop is complete, I can tack up a honey-do list with "beautiful Norm Abram proud book shelves" as the primo chore.

Enjoy it. Part 2

During the pregnancy, and then later at the hospital tour, and even later at check in, we were asked a number of times what our birth plan was. Trying not to laugh we answered always with a smile as we'd say something along the lines of: "A healthy baby", "You guys are the experts, that's why we're here." "The plan is do whatever you tell us". Then I would always add: "But . . . I'd like to labor at home for a long while, almost until transition. I'd like to try not to have an epidural, but will get one if it looks like it's needed". (The truth was, we'd never heard anything negative about our hospital's birth center or nurses, and we'd chosen our ob for a reason . . . and as it happened he was on call for our birth--perfection.) So, those two things that I [thought that I] was holding so loosely in my hands were joyfully dropped from my palm within three hours of the water breaking. Wives all know that their husbands want to carry burdens for them and Phil had anticipated that watching me work through pain would be hard for him, as he was limited to just offering comfort and encouragement (he's really more of a "let me carry that suitcase for you" kind of guy verses a "let's each take handle" man). After returning to the labor bed from the bathroom, I planned on some jacuzzi time, and then realized that Phil's encouragement that, 'if I wanted one, I should have an epidural', was now becoming a very bright light to me. Knowing that he wouldn't think I was failing, if I got one made me consider it. Then I was decided: "You can turn off the bath" I grimaced to Phil, "I'm getting the epidural". He smiled that I had to enjoy it, guilt free. Enjoy it. Inside I felt like such a big-talking wimp. I sort of nodded to him, caught in the grips of another back to backer; thinking he was just saying that to be nice. The epidural people arrived, and I got situated on the side of the bed, ready to cat-arch my back and hold really still--wondering if I was going to sneeze and end up causing nerve damage and giving myself a permanent nervous tick. In the midst of the epidural pressure I lost grip, sobbing (Phil says I just cried) at the unexpected pressure. I was rescued from my sobs by Acacia as she coached me unendingly through my fear, that pressure, and continued contractions. She had lovely kind eyes, and I studied them as I focused on her face, trying to make all the pain productive and think open thoughts. A lot of the imagery I'd read about during my pregnancy described the mental picture of a flower opening; somehow I got the cartoon episode from the Magic School Bus: Plants a Seed stuck in my head, so with each contraction I'd been thinking "open" but visually watching Arnold and Ms. Frizzle in the garden--which of course cracked me up during those rest periods. The epidural was administered by a student anesthestitist, who was full of that perfect balance of friendliness and confidence that put me at ease. I could hear him discussing the procedure with his supervisor and thought to myself, Just get it done! You'll do great! Get a move on! The relief wasn't instantaneous, and I felt caught off guard when I was situated in bed another contraction came. But Acacia was right there with her eyes for me to laser in on, and her encouragement to be relaxed like butter--you know, one my favorite food groups so I knew all about it. As I had contractions and realized that the edge was gone, Phil reminded me to enjoy it (I think he knew the guilt was almost but not quite all gone). I've been at more than my share of home births, and know that it is fully possible to labor with control with just trust in your body and God's wonderful design. I had wanted one of those hospital births that is almost a home birth, and yet, here I was reclining on each side in turn, with monitors, and straps, and beeps, and needles, and a huge sense of being in control and even huger feelings of being at peace. Phil was right, it was good to enjoy it.

My Frogman Turtle Lips (that would be Sean, not Deacon)

I'm pretty sure that I actually gave birth to a half frog half turtle man. Sean has this amazing ability to resemble and imitate a snapping turtle, and then whenever I change his diaper I feel like I'm wiping down a little frog bottom.
Of course he's the cutest frogman turtle lips baby ever.

Oh the woes of a wet nurse. So this morning Deacon prayed over breakfast. I was out of the room, but was soon visited by a very amused husband. "Did you hear Deacon's prayer?" Phil asked grinning. "Deacon wanted to know what to pray for," Phil continued, "so I made some suggestions, 'you could pray for the food, for the baby, for mommy . . . .'" Well, apparently I've been wincing a lot. Because Deacon's prayer included, "God please make Mommy's nipples not hurt so much when she feeds the baby".

Just add a peanut!

Part 2 is elusive. I'm so awed by our little baby that it's actual difficult to channel the events of 60+ hours ago. It will come . . . but first . . . here is tonight's viewing of Top Shot. Made a little cuter by McMurray male #5.

Biking on the deck

So Bryce is pretty much the most helpfulest big brother ever. I pushed Kyle around, Phil pushed Kyle around, and Bryce thought it looked like so much fun that he offered to do the pushing . . . and didn't really want to stop for a photo op. Kyle loved it. Deacon rode a bit, then made a trap for the cats or a house for the cats . . . it's hard to tell sometimes.

Running in a rainstorm

 My lightening rods are the cutest.

Animal Slap Jack vs. Animal Books

 

Whilst the big boys play Slap Jack with a super fun pack of cards that have animals featured for the royalty (what's super fun is they get slap all the animals, not just Knaves), the little boy reads his favorite animal books (from Aunt Jo Ann).

Cowboy Deacon

Does he realize how cute he is?

Magic Hike

Pictured is the fort that Bryce and Deacon made with Granddaddy on their Magic Hike yesterday. Idler's Rest is sort of magical with all those cedars shadowing the forest floor, and the fallen trees to scamper over, and how it sort of seems pristine even though all the paths are well managed and there are benches . . . apparently as they tucked in to their lunch the wind began to make the trees cricket and Granddaddy explained the noise as dragons. And very soon all their five and six year old bravery was used up, and lunch was finished at home. They boys loved it. It was all they could talk about. Idler's Rest is one of those spots that always makes me lament again, that the only downside to Palouse living is the trade off we make for rolling hills over trees.