We put the kids to bed, but inevitably Weston trickled down the stairs. He came to inform us that he couldn't sleep because Mario Kart was stuck in his head.
Then he asked with big round eyes (verbatim), "Is Mario Kart a type of brain cell?"
... uh, what?
Too much Wii.
Now that all the kiddos are in school, I have more time to wonder.
This morning I wondered how long it takes to make my bed, with all the pillow art I've got going on.
So, I timed myself.
2 minutes 45 seconds.
Almost three minutes...doesn't seem to long, but then I wondered...
If I make my bed 5 times a week (some mornings it just does not get done!) then that is almost 15 minutes a week, an hour a month and 12 hours a year just making my bed!
Hmmm....
I wonder if all the pillow primping is worth that kind of time???
This morning I went to work a little early to get prepared for a meeting. The closer I got to downtown the slower, the traffic became. This is typical on the freeways, but I was on the local streets headed to our office.
I began to notice that there was a lot of debris on the road, and then one of the streets was closed. Some limbs broken here, some titles blown off a roof there. A little closer to the office and I was dodging trees that had fallen into the road, then some power lines were down. It was beginning to look like a war zone.
I finally made it to the office, parked in the garage, and walked to my building. This is what I saw at 7:00am this morning.
They said that downtown the winds exceeded 100 mph last night. We had the coolest thunder and lightning show that I've seen in a long time. It was great to have the rain!
Someone needed a distraction after school today.
There was fighting and crying.
There was even a threat, "I'm gonna go live with Grandpa and Grandpa!" (I know he meant to include Grandma in this, but "pa" came out twice.)
It was a long week of recess and music and art projects (notice the painted shirt)...
So, we made a cake together and he licked the beater.
mmmmmmm....chocolate-chocolate chip cake-- a worthy distraction.
In conjunction with my previous post, I realized something as I looked at the pictures I took. Officially, I will announce that I have to eat my words. I swore that I would never allow character shirts, especially to school.
I am munching on those words.
Because of their precious dimples.
Because of their great smiles.
Because those silly t-shirts are the first ones they put on after the wash is done.
I am chewing up and swallowing those words.
Because they say things like, "I am good Jengo Fett with a lightsaber and force choke and shock."--all in one breath.
Because I am a mother of boys.
You know, those words don't taste half-bad after all.
![jediboys3_thumb[1]](http://lh6.ggpht.com/sarasteck/SLeKF5YbURI/AAAAAAAAAmg/C3vG45MPKPw/s1600-h/jediboys3_thumb%5B1%5D%5B3%5D.jpg)
Before school yesterday, my boys had a few moments to play. So they quickly assumed the position of Anakin Skywalker and Obi-Wan Kenobi, chained to the stone pillars in Attack of the Clones. I snatched my camera and snapped a picture...I never, ever want to forget that they played like this.
I (Brian) just went up to be with Weston for a few minutes. He is "grounded" to his bed for the afternoon (that's another story). I laid down on his bed with him and we were just cuddling and talking for a bit.
Wes looks at me and says, "I'm the checker and you're the lover."
"Uh.. what?"
"I'm the checker and you're the lover. You say, 'Do you love Mom?' Then I say, 'Check.'"
Ahhhh, I got it. He made up this game with Jessie (one of our baby-sitters). Someone, apparently "the lover" asks "the checker" if they love someone or something. The checker then says "check" if he loves whatever or "un-check" if he doesn't love whatever.
Our Weston - he can find trouble, but man do I love him.
Check.
I was over at Rachel's blog, admiring her handiwork and realized I wanted to share mine, too.
Sometime last year (I think it was last year?) I was browsing in my ever-lovin' Homegoods store and happened upon this little prize--
Then came a little spark of an idea. I love that spark.
The spark turned a little sign into a whole wall.
It is my hidden treasure in the guest bedroom...so if you come to stay, you'll be sharing with the ancestors!
A few of my sweet friends reminded me of the first time I sent off a kindergartner...
{Kate's First Day 2002}
I laid in bed the night before her first day and slowly, tears began to trickle down to my pillow. I was a wreck and I knew it.
Finally, I nudged Brian to tell him I was going downstairs for a while.
"Why?" he asked.
"Because..." I sniffed, "I need to go cry...loudly."
He wrapped me up in his arms and told me to go ahead and cry out loud...he didn't mind.
So I did. I sobbed. Racking sobs.
I think he cried a little, too.
"Mom, did you know that toothpaste stops pincher bugs...?" Keaton informed me this morning.
Sometimes, I just don't want to hear the rest of the story.
Really.
Just close my eyes and walk away.
"...but now my sink is kind of a mess."
Yep, it sure is...but on the bright side, he's mighty resourceful!
I've noticed that there is this link on our blog called The Pioneer Woman Cooks. I've seen this link on a lot of other blogs as well, so I checked it out. There is a great section called Cowboy Food - uh... YUM.
For the record, I don't consider myself anywhere near a cook. However, there has been some good stuff that I've come up with over the years - why not share them??
Here is one of my favorite snacks, it's good morning, noon, or night.
All you need is: peanut butter, chocolate chips, and a knife.
Open up the PB, and spread some chips out on the counter.
Scoop out a good dollop of PB on the knife.
Roll the PB in the chips on the counter.
Pop this deliciousness in your mouth and repeat as necessary.
{Weston & Sara}
{Weston & Keaton: Rain-bibbers}
{Shelby & Keaton & Weston: Gleefully Soaked}
Perfect ending to a steamy August day!
Three times a week!
Several friends have encouraged me to try the spin class at our gym. I was oh-so-hesitant because I am wimpy in the workout department. But I finally gave it a try.
I do not love it, nor would I dare say I like it, mainly because of this...
Ouch, my underneath feels sore just looking at that!
But I know it is good for me, so this becomes one of those mind over heart matters.
Tagged by my cousin Jo!
Ok, here's what I'm supposed to do: list 3 joys, 3 fears, 3 current obsessions/collections, 3 surprising facts and then tag 5 other people. Leave a comment for the people you tag so they know they have been tagged.
Joys
*tomatoes fresh from a garden
*holding hands with my big love or any of my four little loves
*Diorshow mascara
Fears
*mint jelly
*losing my teeth
*Weston asking to go "Blockbuster" to rent a movie, instead of "Lockbusters"
Obsessions
*gift wrap
*decorative pillows--I am trying to quit.
*chairs need to be pushed in around the table when not in use--please do not leave chairs askew
Facts
*Rocky Balboa fan. "Knock "em to tomorrow, Rock!"
*never been on a horse that was not attatched to a carousel
*I am a food item expiration date checker--yours and mine.
Tag
Tina, Rachel, Val, Leslie, and David
I love one of our local restaurant's offering of Halibut Tacos with Orange-Mango salsa. If I so much as think about them, I crave them. It is a slight addiction.
Last week, while Brian was out of town, I thought about them.
Then I thought about them some more.
At about 5pm on Thursday I announced we were going out to dinner.
About an hour later I successfully cleaned my plate of two divinely appointed tacos. Weston made his way on to my lap and I asked him if he wanted to finish off Katie's half of her 2nd taco that she couldn't finish. (I have influenced my daughter to love the tacos as well). I told him that they were fish tacos with mangoes. Surprisingly he dug right in.
After his 2nd bite of the white fish, he eyed the piece of fish on his fork, looked at it quizzically, and asked, "They put meat in there?"
"Yep," I giggled, "they put meat in there."
"Mmmmm-mmm", he answered.
I love five-year-olds.
a little wave goodbye.
no drama. no tears--except the ones brimming in my eyes and the ones streaming down Brian's cheeks.
Fourteen years ago today (actually almost to the minute) Sara said "Yes" when asked if she would take me as her husband. It is amazing how certain memories can make such an impression on your mind. I remember watching her face, her mouth, just 'her' as she said that simple three letter word. I wish I could describe how she said it, what she looked like, and how I felt - but I can't. It is almost frustrating that something so crystal clear in my mind could never come out in words.
Suffice it to say that I adore her.
I remember copying the lyrics to a song in a card I gave Sara probably six or seven years ago, but they again seem to capture how I feel about this amazing lady.
I cant imagine, any greater fear
Then waking up, without you here,
And though the sun, will still shine on,
My whole world, would all be gone,
But not for long,
If I had to run, if I had to crawl
If I had to swim a hundred rivers, just to climb a thousand walls,
Always know that I will find a way, to get to where you are,
There's no place that far.
This last vacation our family just got back from was one of my(Brian's) favorites. We weren't rushed, we had just the right amount of planned vs. free time, the drives were pleasant (Sara read The Great Brain out loud to me on one stretch), the kids had fun with each other - all in all just a great time.
Of the many highlights, there was one morning Katie and I decided that we would go watch the sunrise on the beach and hunt for cool shells. In order to accomplish this we would have to get up around 5:00 am to get down to the beach by 5:20 am. With everyone else still sleeping Katie and I grabbed a bucket for our shells and we were off... well just barely. As I turned the key in the ignition - 'click'. DANG! I tried again... and it barely started. I remembered then that our battery was beginning to go on the fritz. I wasn't going to let this get in the way of time with just Katie and me, so off we went. This really wasn't the best time for me to leave my cell phone on the dresser. The beach was deserted. I backed into a spot so that it would be easy for someone to give us a jump. I figured that by then there would at least be somebody down there. As I turned off the engine I mused, "Well, here's hoping we can get home again." Katie looked at me with kind of a puzzled look and said, "Maybe we should say a prayer." "Good idea. Will you say it?" She did. Simple, sincere, perfect.
I was ready to see the sunrise with my daughter. I bet it would have been a very cool sunrise, except for the fact that every single morning on the Goleta beach (and probably all the southern California coast) there is a thick layer of fog, ocean mist, clouds, whatever you call it, it made for more of a gradual disbursement of the dark rather than a sunrise. However, with the cool mist in our face, the beauty of the beach, and my daughter's hand in mine - it was perfect.
We found a ton of shells. It was low-tide, and the shells we found were beyond my expectations. We both got excited when we came across a "whole" shell that hadn't been broken. Katie found 
most of them. I spotted one that I thought was cool, and yelled to Katie, "I found a whole one!" I discovered that is was broken as I dug it out of the sand. "Oh... it's not a whole one." I was a little disappointed, it would have been a great one. Katie happily grabs the shell from my hand and says, "Oh Dad, it doesn't have to be whole to be perfect" and puts it in our bucket.
Wow. No kidding. I bet this is how God thinks about us.
It doesn't have to be whole to be perfect.
Thanks Katie Jane.
Soon it was time to go home. I hoped the car would start.As I turned the key to start the van - click. Absolutely nothing. Tried it again. Nothing, not even a rr-rr-rr. The third time started up like a champ.
Thanks again Kate.
It has to happen. No matter how I try to keep them little, I realize that I need to stop fighting it and embrace the inevitable...
{before}
{after}
My brother David is the Storyteller. He wrote up a story about my Weston on his blog and I wanted it in my future blog book, so I cut and pasted it here...
The Flick
It has been fun to see so many of my nieces and nephews this week. I’ve been around 5-year-old Weston on several occasions so far, but he has paid me little attention. That is not like him, but I understand: I am old, I talk strangely, and 4-year old Ericson is infinitely more fun!
That all changed abruptly tonight. Just before family prayer, he leaned near me and flicked my head. I think it was unprovoked. I found it very amusing. I hadn’t been flicked in a long time. This seemed to initiate a span of renewed familiarity that included him telling me that he knew how to punch, and then burying his fist in my stomach. So fun. I can’t remember the last time I was punched. I miss little boys. I have missed Weston.
