And the rain came down...

There is nothing like a warm, late summer/early fall downpour to help you to remember what childhood is all about.  Yesterday brought gloomy clouds and lots of wet stuff to test out our newly applied roof.  The boys and I hunkered down indoors and spent a lot of time playing in the unfinished basement, where they can run around like madmen and scatter toys without a scolding...instead they hear, "be careful with your little brother...Dead crickets DO NOT belong in your mouth...please don't drive your car into the one finished wall in this basement!"

On a normal day we will head out into the front yard to wait for Daddy to pull up into the driveway and then the boys "help" him drive the truck into the garage.  On this day, however, unless a drenching was warranted, we wouldn't have that opportunity.  I decided, however, that we could wait in the garage and that the boys would probably enjoy watching the rain come down.  So, that is where we headed about 5 minutes before J was due home.  I sometimes wonder if my think-ahead-and-ponder-the-consequences mechanism in my brain is broken.  We had been out there for no more than 3 seconds when Ethan spotted the water pouring out of one of the downspouts into the driveway...it had carried stray nails from the previous days roof replacement down with it and scattered them about.  Both boys rushed to gather these "treasures".  I hurriedly grabbed a bucket that they could collect the sharp objects instead of hauling them in their delicate hands.  Crisis averted...all nails were harvested and no skin broken.  That was about the time that daddy pulled in and both boys bolted for the car at the end of the driveway.  He gave me a glare as we both realized he was going to have to pull two slurpy boys into the car onto his lap to journey up the driveway.  As soon as they completed their mission and crawled out of the now-wet car, back out into the rain they dashed!  And straight down the sidewalk and away...initially I winced as I charged after them into the pounding rain, but as I reached the sidewalk, well behind them, I realized I was smiling!  There I stood as two giggling boys bounded, stumbled and skipped back and forth down the sidewalk, stomping in every puddle along the way...and I enjoyed it!

It was just a moment in our dreary day, but for once I forgot about wet clothes and soggy shoes and just went with it.  I have spent the past 20ish years avoiding the rain...darting from vehicle to indoor refuge, using an umbrella as a barricade to the pouring water and leaping over puddles to keep my shoes from getting wet.  I think the boys are doing it the right way...you learn something new every day! :)

Quote of the Day...

After the excitement of the morning happened to be the delivery of our shingles in preparation of our new roof to happen tomorrow, X-man and J had a conversation about tractors this evening.  It went like this:

X-man:  "Wook, Dad, a twactor," exclaimed as he held up one of his toys.

J: "That's actually a bulldozer."

X-man:  "No! It's not a bull-bozer, it's a twactor."

J:  "No...it's really a bulldozer."

X-man:  "No, Dad!  It's a fwont-end woader!"

J:  "No, it's a...wait...it is a front-end loader!"

Guess he told him!  One of my developing skills as a mother is to hone up on my tractors...getting pretty good! :) 

They love all things large and truck-like! :)

THUD!

It truly is amazing how calm, quiet and beautiful skies can be after the rage of a Kansas thunderstorm...as if our concerns and fears can be dragged away with the ominous clouds.  Typically, I crave a good storm...it was no different last night.  As J arrived home from work to the boys and I waiting outside for him, he asked if I had looked at radar as the skies to the north were rather threatening.  Radar had shown just a small cell that started northwest of us and it was moving almost directly east, so it appeared that it would miss us altogether, but as it slid east, it also continued to blow up and expand.  By the time he arrived home it looked like, we might, in fact, be "graced" with the very southern edge of the storm...and we both chimed that we hoped that would be the case.  We were in need of some good ol' fashioned Kansas weather!  During the following hour I learned the important lesson of being careful what you wish for.

As we stood outside before we might or might not get a little piece of that storm, we chatted with our neighbor about jobs and household chores and whose grass was longer and more weed infused (it's been a rough summer for our lawns).  Some large drops of rain began to fall sparsely and splat to the ground which made the boys more excited.  I briefly commented that this rain was going to be hail in the next 30 seconds as the drops were enormous and icy cold when they hit.  Sure enough, we began to hear the cracks of ice smashing into rooftops and pavement around us.  I made the executive decision to herd the boys to safety on the covered porch, but not before snatching a marble size piece of hail to showcase to the little guys.  They stood fascinated by the ice bouncing around like popcorn on the front lawn and I left them in J's care so I could get dinner started inside...thankful that we had opted against a pizza run for a lazy dinner.

Shortly thereafter the boys all moved to the safety of the indoors as the wind picked up and the front porch proved to be a poor shelter.  About that time we heard the first "thud" on the roof.  By this time we could see several golf ballish chunks of ice bouncing to the ground in the back yard.  "Wow," I thought...this was a pretty good little storm!  But mother nature was only getting started.  As I tried to return to the kitchen and focus on the pulled pork and baking fries, my attention kept getting pulled away by exclamations from J and X-man about what was falling from the sky from moment to moment.  It was then that we saw a baseball plop into the yard..."huh," I thought, "funny time to be throwing a ball around."  J decided that he should risk his livelihood and mobility (one hit from one of those suckers to the noggin would have rendered him useless from the forehead down) to fetch this giant sphere of ice.  Out he darted before I could protest or even think of the possibilities.  It wasn't until he reached the mound in the grass and a chunk of ice hit about 10 feet away and shattered, leaving pieces the size of J's treasure behind that I suddenly dreaded my potential widowhood.  But he made a mad dash and arrived back indoors unscathed and triumphant.

J decided to grab the video camera to try to capture the sound that I was trying to make dinner to.  I must have exclaimed a dozen times that it sounded like bodies were falling from the sky.  At one point, something hit so hard that the floor beneath me shook.  That was when I knew that we were in for trouble and I could only imagine how our poor roof was feeling at that moment.  It was shortly after that horrible jarring of our entire house that J walked by the kitchen and noticed that the laundry room light was on (I am notorious for leaving the lights burning all over the house...my husband loves me for this).  He politely requested that I turn it off, to which I was much obliged, but upon attempting to enter the laundry room I received a shower and realized that water was pouring out of the door jamb.  I began getting that feeling in the pit of my stomach...you know, the feeling that you are about to lose a fistful of money.  Ugh!

That's when panic set in.  J went into solution mode and went to investigate the attic from the garage to see what damage was visible.  We are lacking in the extension ladder department and the step ladder we have is tall enough to allow you to stand on the top step to be able to peer into the attic, but actually getting up there would be tricky...and stupid.  Sure enough, he had me climb up there as well and unfortunately I could see light (and water) pouring in through a large hole in the roof.  That is when the tornado sirens went off.  I sat the boys down to eat dinner as we checked news and radar to make sure the tornado was not on top of us (we don't spook easily in Kansas), and seeing that we were in the clear, for at least the moment, I began to search the house for further damage.  The same thing that was occuring in the laundry room was happening in the closet in X-man's room, but that seemed to be it.  In the meantime, my lovely husband was a whirlwind in and out of the house trying to figure out how to block the rain from pouring into the gaping hole in the skin of our home.  I entered the garage to find him scheming on how to hoist himself into the attic from the top step of the step ladder.  That's when I laid down the law...I explained to him that what was done was done.  We were already going to be paying the deductible whether the water damage stopped here or destroyed our entire home, but I was so not excited about the prospect of having to drag my husband off of the floor of the garage where he splatted from the attic because of the lack of proper equipment, load his lifeless body and the wiggly ones of our boys into the car and head out in this beast of a storm to get to the E.R.  He finally saw the light and agreed to wait until the storm subsided and he could crawl onto the roof to do some repair from the outside.  We sat and tried to eat, though our appetites were long gone.  The rain finally stopped and the sun seeped through the clouds as if to say, "why the long face?"  It was such a taunting tone.  The neighborhood suddenly came to life among the leftovers of what looked to be the largest batting practice on record...our yards were speckled with baseballs, buried into the soft ground where they had been randomly tossed.  Neighbors gathered in yards sharing their tales, kids squealed with delight in the sudden stillness of the evening as they splashed in puddles and pounding could be heard from all corners of the area as temporary repairs began.  This is what we found in our afermath.

Our largest hole...softballish in size

There are divots like this scattered all over the roof

This one is almost the same size as the one J retrieved during the storm.  You can see the dirt displaced as it collided with the lawn.

This one is also about the same size and you can really tell how deep it is buried into the earth

A hole in the gutter...but more noticeable is the clear night sky left behind in the wake of all that chaos

We also sustained damage to our fence, air conditioner, possibly the siding and numerous water spots indoors all the way down to the floor boards seen through the rafters in the basement.  We are very aware that it could be months before our house is returned to its former self, but we fared so much better than many people in the direct area and are simply thankful that we were all home, together when it happened.  It takes evenings like these to appreciate the mundane routine of day to day activities and to truly remember that we are very far from the ones in control!

Darn Good Guardian Angels

This week I have been floating through a very thankful haze.  I am tired as usual because my boys still think it is fun to run me ragged.  This is nothing new, but today I am thankful that I have little boys waking me up in the dead of night just for a quick hug of reassurance before they drift back off to their dreams of mud puddles, peanut butter and giant friendly dogs.  It is very sad that traumatic events have to occur sometimes to jog your stubborn, skeptical, pessimistic brain into realizing how good you have it and we seem to have had a series of these events in the last couple of weeks.

Gokey has been accident prone from birth.  His actual birth was about as smooth as it gets...it was rather quiet and peaceful and he came out calm and content...and hungry, just a snippet into what makes him tick!  I don't know if it's just that he is the second child and we just aren't as doting or concerned as we were with X-man or if he just always happens to constantly be at the receiving end of "the wrong place at the wrong time" scenarios, but this kid has been truly banged up in his short 16 months.  Let's see...at 3 months he slid out of my lap during a middle of the night feed during which I just could not keep myself from dozing off, allowing him to tumble to the floor.  At 6 months he dove out of Daddy's arms after a diaper change and plummeted to the floor.  At 7 months, big brother generously opened the baby gate at the top of the stairs to the basement so Gokey could flip flop down first.  At 14 months he slipped head first into a large, very sturdy (sturdier than his noggin, anyway) coffee table that resulted in the largest knot I have ever seen on a forehead in my life.  In between all of these there have been numerous bumps, bruises, falls and scrapes...more so, it seems, than his brother ever had, and we truly hope that he never goes bald (although genetics are working against him in this area...thank you very much, Daddy, Grandpa Moose and Grandfather) because I am pretty sure he owns one of the lumpiest heads out there disguised with a very good head of hair at the moment.  there have been numerous occasions that I have looked to the heavens and proclaimed tearful "thank-you's" to an extremely overworked guardian angel, who somehow assists in keeping the kid relatively unscathed despite the traumas he stumbles through.

I am forever grateful to this angelic individual today for his devoted protection over the last couple of weeks.  The first of this series of events was one afternoon recently when the boys were getting antsy and I promised them after I finished up filling out a part request form online for one of their toys that pooped out prematurely, we would venture to the great outdoors.  X-man coaxed his little brother back to his bedroom so they could play until their promised adventure could be fulfilled.  I could hear them back there playing so nicely and then X-man emerged carrying an item kept in the top drawer of his dresser that he should not be able to reach.  I sternly scolded him, returned the item, closed the 3 of 5 drawers that he had opened in order to climb the dresser to his summit and explained to him that climbing his dresser is very dangerous and could hurt him very badly.  All the while, Gokey, rather oblivious to my presence, was playing with puzzles quietly on the floor.  X-man repeated my warnings, so it seemed they had been absorbed, I once again promised that I was almost done and we would soon go outside and returned to my internet ventures.  No sooner had my rear hit the chair, there was a massive, bone-chilling crash in the bedroom.  I launched into a panicked sprint to X-man's bedroom, my only comfort that I could distinctly hear 2 sets of screams, so at least both of my babies were alive.  I found X-man glued to the back wall opposite the dresser screaming in terror, where I assume he ran for cover after he began to climb again and watched the event unfold.  Poor Gokey was exactly where I had left him last playing with his puzzles, trapped from mid-back down.  I lifted the bulky dresser and scooped him up, immediately heading to the car to rush to the ER for fear of broken ribs and crushed organs.  X-man trailed behind me in tears, but by the time we reached the kitchen with my very calm, even-toned husband on the phone, Gokey's crying had stopped and he was happily babbling in my arms.  How?  The next day I expected to find the poor kid speckled with bruises and found nothing.  After calming poor X-man down and then myself, I returned to the bedroom to clean up broken glass from picture frames and return 2 very dazed pet mice, Pepper and Brisket, to their humble abode that had been flung to the floor in the crash.  A certain angel whispered in my ear to anchor that cumbersome piece of furniture to the wall...and we listened.

Last week, after I had moved on and stopped replaying "what-if's" in my head, we were back into our normal routine.  The boys, 2 of our dogs and I left to go on a long morning walk.  On these excursions, I usually take the double stroller.  Gokey perches up front, X-man rides his bike along until he tires and then the bike can fit between the front seat and the back jump seat where X-man can either ride or walk a dog if he chooses.  We were approaching the busiest street that we cross and though the speed limit is 40 mph, the average speed is usually much higher. As we were approaching, I was prepping X-man on the daily reminders to "stop, wait and look both ways when we get there," we slowed to a halt, I was instructing dogs to sit on their hineys and all of a sudden, to my horror, Gokey was zipping out of the front seat to make a dash for the street.  He is very rarely buckled in because he likes to hop on and off and stroll with us, but it's never been at such a critical moment and was never something I even let my worst-case-scenario radar ponder.  I snagged the giggling bandit before he even hit the street as a mini van zoomed by, completely oblivious to the near miss.  Despite the blazing sun and high morning temperatures, I spent the rest of that walk in another teary fog, knowing I would never forgive myself had something terrible happened.  A certain, now familiar angel whispered in my ear to buckle the daring darling in...and I listened.

Last weekend we visited my in-laws for the day on Saturday as J's Granny, Gokey's Godmother, was there visiting.  I had just relayed the story of Gokey's dash for traffic earlier in the week only an hour prior and was standing by the front door where I could watch the boys play with their cousin and neighbor boy on the adjacent porch and still participate in the conversations in the living room.  Someone asked the neighbor boy to recite his brother's names, a list that can be colossal in this small, Catholic community.  He spoke them very softly right outside the screen door, so I turned my head to relay the list to the living room.  As I turned back, I caught the horrific sight of Gokey once again making a break for the street, his end goal being the trampoline across the street belonging to the "Grandfatherly" neighbor who so generously lends out his yard's treasures to the neighborhood kids.  I yelped as he stumbled in his "toddler-jog" into the street behind a parked car as, yet again, a mini van (very prevalent in this prolific community) barreled down the street without the slightest notion that a tiny boy was about to toddle into it's path.  I launched into rescue mode immediately and thankfully, the van whizzed by just out of Gokey's reach and I subsequently scooped the giggling bundle into my arms.  The van hit the brakes when they realized the near-horror with a glance in their rear-view mirror to see me standing in the street squeezing the life out of the kid in a love-grip of relief.  This time it truly rocked me.  It was so close to horrible it makes my stomach turn thinking about it.  Several hours later, making the 2 1/2 hour trip home I finally broke down.  I thought I was watching...just a 2 second glance away and the entire scenario changed!  I have learned from Mr. Gokey's angel...I am trying to see ahead, but sometimes my ability to foresee is blurred.  I know I can't prevent every fall, bump and bruise...from the looks of it, I haven't prevented many. :)  It's no secret that I am a control freak, and realistically I understand that I cannot be there all the time, but there is not a mother out there that wouldn't feel endless guilt if something were to happen to their child when they weren't watching, but they could have been.

This lovely, wonderful angel is still whispering...I am pretty sure he has been all along.  Hold them, hug them, kiss them, tell them they are smart, adorable and wonderful...love them! Yes...I am listening.

Where the wild things are...

My house...that's where they are.  Yes, anyone who knows me well knows that usually you can find a multitude of wild things within my four walls.  It's how I roll.  Not talking about kids here, but the things that walk on all fours, slither, sniff, poop in boxes, shed, bark, meow, tweet, growl...ok, maybe kids could fit into this category as well.  Needless to say, we tend to be a shack for homeless pets.  Bless my poor husband's soul!  In my defense, he knew full well what he was getting into when he married me...keeping my not-so-small menagerie a secret is no small feat!  I remember cringing the first time he came over to my tiny apartment in college...greeted by a senile, drooling golden retriever and shrieking jack russell on a pogo stick, only to be scampered over by two frisky felines as they perfected their hunting techniques across our laps during our first snuggles on the couch.  I thought he might run in terror from the creepy cat lady that had turned at such a young age, but to my surprise he came back...and kept coming back!  He has drawn lines, and it is only due to his efforts that we are "limited" to 3 dogs and foster cats only.  Still doesn't keep me from pleading for the next homeless soul that limps our way.  He is just really good at saying "no" or ignoring me. :)

Truth is, I adore my husband and my children come second to no one, but life wouldn't be the same without my managed chaos.  It would be too quiet and un-hairy.  What fun would that be?  Tucker is my old man and has accompanied me through most of college, into and out of relationships, into adulthood and marriage and, reluctantly, into motherhood.  He is not fabulous with the boys, and he would rather hang in the quiet solitude of the laundry room, but when he is subjected to their innocent torture, he makes a lot of noise about it, but wouldn't dare leave a mark.  He would never admit any amount of fondness for the rugrats, but when he doesn't know you are looking there are stolen licks and moments of sweetness...might just be the leftover peanut butter talking...

A much younger X-man sharing a treat with Tuck

Tanner is truly J's dog...he LOVES J.  Everybody else is just a major annoyance that takes time from him and his person, but he tolerates our existence, and we love him for that.  He is a very stately, handsome fella, and J affectionately muses how he wants to make slippers out of him when he dies because his coat is so soft...don't worry, Tanner, I won't let that happen!  He is our alarm and is very watchful...we must have a 100 cars drive by our house every day, but if one pauses slightly longer than normal at the intersection or goes in reverse instead of forward, he will let us know that something is fishy.  He considers it his personal duty to perch on our bed so that he can stand watch...peering out our front window as the world passes by.

Last, but so far from least is Stella.  She is our newest member after joining us in January.  After watching the boys run poor Tanner and Tucker through the house, and witnessing such worry, anxiety and in some instances, just plain fear from the poor beasts, I thought we should find a canine friend that would welcome the boys' rough-housing.  My lovely husband finally agreed (thank you, J).  I can say, despite the headaches that come with canine adolescence--chewed up shoes (or more often in her case, shoelaces), piddles on the floor, over joyous greetings that tend to knock guests on their rears, the desire to wrestle with any willing counterpart virtually 24 hours a day--I am thankful every day for her presence and undying love for those boys of mine!  She is exactly what I was hoping for in a companion for them.  She almost seems to welcome their abuse.  They climb on her, pull on lips, push on noses, stick fingers in ears, run through the house with delight luring her with the last bits of their gummy graham crackers before they shove it in their mouths, leaving not a morsel, yet she adores them with every fiber of her being.  The second night she was in our home as a nine month old 60 pound puppy, our greatest struggle was keeping her out of X-man's room where she so longed to snuggle with him in his bed.  Today I wouldn't hesitate allowing such a sleepover, but at the time, she was still a stranger to us and I didn't trust her to remain accident free (both of the pee and mauling-a-small-child variety).  And, how Gokey adores her...he knows no fear when she is by his side...I love that she has taught him such confidence around animals.  He has been trampled, knocked over, whacked in the face with an exuberant tail, but he takes it all in stride.  I continue to marvel at what she puts up with, which isn't even the right description, because she doesn't "put up" with it, she loves it!  I can't tell you how many times I have witnessed Gokey sticking his fist in her mouth trying to grab her tongue or remove an ear, only to lose interest, walk away and then be cut off by Stella who is begging for more "attention."  I have never seen such a masochistic dog, but I wouldn't trade her for the world!

I love that she allows this to happen...

...and pays him back with this! :)

So...for my shameless plug...

You should find your perfect furry friend today!  Please adopt!!!!

A Tribute to The Girls!

There was a time in my life that I was surrounded by my girlfriends...lots of 'em.  As a kid, preteen, teen and young adult, girlfriends were the ones that made the days go by.  In elementary school, my bestie, Erika and I floated through the days dreaming of being grown up and having horses...lots and lots of horses.  We would also have dogs and kids, but somehow men didn't fit into that equation.  When we weren't dreaming and aspiring, we were running around on all fours pretending we were the horses that we someday would own and train.  Erika moved a city away when I was in 3rd grade (25 miles is a LOOOONNNNNGGGG way when you are under the age of 12), and though we saw each other, our days of climbing trees, finding shapes in the clouds, whinnying with the best of them...our whimsical days of childhood dwindled.

In the 5th grade it was Becky who became my confidant...and we were truly joined at the hip for the next 8 years.  Every weekend was spent at her house or mine and we both grew extended families consisting of each other's siblings and parents.  Parents were addressed as "Mom" and "Dad," whether they were hers or mine.  We shared everything.  I got my first dog, Penny (her story will surely surface in another post because she is the dog of all dogs) and did my best to convince her parents that Becky needed one too.  When she FINALLY got her own special canine, Celia, we became a party of four.  Oh, the adventures: Celia jumping out of the bed of the truck, still on leash running alongside the moving vehicle; Celia and Penny both running under a small foot bridge while on a walk...Penny gracefully swimming across the little stream below and Celia swinging out from under the bridge, her too-short extendable leash still attached to her harness, not allowing her paddling feet to actually hit the water.  Somehow most of the stories have to do with a dangling Celia. :)  Highschool came along and then we were driving and FREE, basketball, volleyball, "dragging Main," movies...whatever it was, we mostly did it together.  Then graduation came, we had a fun-filled summer and parted ways, choosing rival colleges (Go Wildcats!!!  Sorry Becky).  

College in dorms is a whole new experience.  It just happened that Erika, who was a year ahead of me, was switching schools when I was about to make the leap into my first year of college and we were able to arrange to be roommates in the dorm together.  It was great reconnecting on a daily basis again, but she also had different (probably better) priorities in her second year compared to me in my first year.  She was very busy in her major, while I probably had too much time floating through my pre-reqs.  She was gone a lot, found a new boy who made her gone a lot more and I was at the dorm with a whole floor filled with new potential friends.  In the beginning, I can remember staying up most of every night and wondering how I survived it.  We would all sit out in the hallway, order pizzas and pretend to study.  We would take "study breaks" and walk down to Aggieville to get a coffee, or to Dara's to get a $.52 refill of Dr. Pepper all the while bonding.  As the first weeks flew by, floor unity gradually began to break up and split off into pieces.  For the most part, they were peaceful pieces, but you can never underestimate a floor full of girls in their ability to create drama.  On the other side of all that drama Stef and I found ourselves side by side.

The next 4 or 5 years (what was it, Stef?) were spent hanging out with Stef and whatever rowdy group of guy friends belonged to the guy Stef was dating.  I could distinctly categorize our partying experiences by that ever changing group.  I like to think it was her way of making sure our socializing didn't grow too stagnant.  It was a time of too much drinking, too little sleeping, football games, an occasional breakfast out in place of the class that was supposed to fill that time slot, but most of all, conversation...camaraderie, mending of broken hearts, laughter, tears, tears caused by laughter and just plain ol' good times.  I sometimes wonder how we fit school in there, but we both did...mine was just a little more spread out than hers turned out to be.  Once again, my fave companion for that period of my life flew the coop...off to bigger and better things...the things that come after graduation.  I think it's called adulthood.

After Stef left town I met the love of my life, J...for the first time I tumbled into this crazy thing called Love.  As my relationship with J blossomed, he replaced that spot that was always filled by the "bestie" that graced each phase of my life.  Make no mistake, though, those girls (now women) have never left my life...nor my heart.  We have all grown up, gotten married, scored jobs, lost jobs, had kids, made giant moves from city to city, quit jobs and all in all...we've moved on.  We still talk when we can, though phone calls are interrupted by screaming kids, meetings that have to be had or simple exhaustion and visits happen when someone chances upon an area the other habituates.  Paths cross here and there and somehow we always pick up where we left off, but we always leave off.  There are new priorities...families, spouses, children, careers that pull us away and keep us from daydreaming, "hanging," partying.  Still...there are times when there is nothing better than sharing exciting news with a girlfriend or seeking out a familiar shoulder when news isn't so great.  There are some voids only a fellow female can fill.  There is often a stigma surrounding femaleness...drama, cattiness, vanity, shallowness.  I think any woman who has had relationships as I have had can easily debunk these stereotypes.  Cheers to my girlfriends...you know who you are and I love you very much!!!!!

Yaaaawwwwnnnnn...

Funny how almost every one of my posts is about sleep, or lack of sleep.  Ah, the good life! :)  This is going to be short because you had better believe that I am going to take advantage of this nap time and find a little snoozage of my own.  Gokey has been running a mild fever for 24 hours now...I am almost positive that it is just some severe teething going on as it is accompanied by copious amounts of drool.  He went to bed at normal time around 7:30 pm and then awoke around an hour later, probably because of his brother's overzealous bedtime protests (thank you, X-man).  From there it was all downhill.  He would crash only to be up 10 minutes later over and over and over again for the next hourish.  J finally decided to throw in the towel and go to bed and I finally decided to throw in the towel and quit trying to make the kid sleep.  I sat down in the living room thinking he might crash if we watched a little idiot-box.  It seemed to be working...he got that glazed look for a while and was limp in my lap and then suddenly he exploded to the floor and began running delighted laps around the living and dining rooms.  So...I made myself a cup of coffee and settled in for the long haul.  Around midnight, after trying to keep him quiet for our slumbering counterparts' sake I decided a drive was in order.  Buckled him into his carseat and off we went!  Boy this city is exciting late on a Wednesday night/Thursday morning!  It worked...thankfully.  I crawled into bed around 12:30 only to be wrenched from my dreams at 4:45 this morning by his sweet cries...ugh.  There were some feeble attempts to get him back to sleep, but somehow I was too tired to even try at that for long, so...once again, we are pooped!

We did make it out on an attempted trip to the park.  Both boys crashed on the way there, so I parked the car in the park and let them sleep while I miserably sat in the driver's seat wondering why they so eagerly departed from wakefulness as soon as there was promise of excitement, but there was no convincing them that sleep should happen when we were in the comfort of our own home in the midst of boredom.  Go figure.  We had a lunch date with Nana, so turning around wasn't an option...and we had a great time at lunch, anyway (thank you, Nana)!

So...hopefully a nap is in my very near future!

Belly full of pizza...maybe now I will sleep so Momma can too!

Oh...and a shout out to my oldest and one of my dearest friends:  Happy Birthday, Erika! :)