blessed beyond measure

And with that he is a preschooler no more sniff

Herein lies a description of one of my worst parenting days ever. Looking back it's rather funny, except perhaps not funny-ha-ha. More like funny-oh-crap. A day that began with grand intentions of snuggles and laughter and enrichment and me proving myself worthy of my impressive spread of Mother's Day gifts, now wilting on my countertop. A day in which, hours later I would shout, with the full attention of both my children, "I just want to disappear!" Don't think moms are supposed to say stuff like that. Brandon was going to be away all day on Saturday for a basketball team camp. So it would be just me and the kiddos on what was predicted to be a brutally hot and humid day. I wanted to do something that the boys would enjoy, and really just wanted to get out of the house for a while. Thought maybe we'd head to the playground after breakfast, before it got too hot. Following is the conversation I had with myself. Not out loud. Then, hmm, what could...

As of this past Wednesday, Trey is no longer a Cubbie. It seems like yesterday he began the Awana program at church as a Puggle , and now it has been three years. Trey has worked hard on his book this year, learning 28 verses with their references. He earned a blue ribbon, but most of all he is super proud of the patches on his vest, which is now complete! Much is changing in Trey's world this summer, and in typical Ashley-DNA fashion, he's not handling it well. We have separation anxiety, we have willful disobedience, we have acting like a baby for attention, and bedtime has become a bat.tle.ground. Poor kid is scared silly to be left alone. It's just a phase, and honestly, though I bristle at rejection, this may be God's way of giving me one last taste of baby before my boy turns into a big boy indeed. For in a few short months he will be an Awana Spark. And his baby brother will be a Puggle. And his mama will stand there shaking her head, wondering wh...

Aden is obsessed with the toilet. Loves peeking inside, slamming the lid down, hearing the flush, playing with the little round bolt-covers on the bottom, and, when Mama is not quick enough, splashing in the water. Motherhood has prompted the oddest combinations of words to come out of my mouth. Captivated, Aden will watch Trey go #1 (no one is allowed anywhere near the bathroom when #2 is happening) , wait for the flush to finish, and then act out his own version. Lift lid, stand there and sway pelvis back and forth for a few seconds, close lid, and flush. The kid wants to use the potty. So yesterday we pulled out the frog. Aden found it super-fun to help me clean him up, then to help carry him into the bathroom. Without instruction and with bottoms still on, Aden sat on the little potty and proclaimed, "KEE KEE!!!" (That's pee pee.) "Aden, do you need to pee pee?" I asked. "Mm-hmm." So we nakedified his bottom half and he reclaimed his s...

One thing I really wanted to do this year was to experiment with the power of vinegar. This stemming from my impromptu dance party in the kitchen last year after a vinegar steam bath made my nastified microwave look brand spankin new. So last week when I stumbled upon the vinegar section in Walmart, immediately feeling the stabs of guilt over having made no progress whatsoever on any of the items on my 2012 list , I snatched up a big ol' jug. I will pause here to say how surreal it is to have a nutrition label on something that has been purchased solely for the purpose of cleaning. Surreal, and I guess good, as this is the closest to being "green" I have ever gotten. Except for my reusable shopping bags. I love bags. The type A has to assert itself somewhere. Anyhoo, bing quickly provided a list of eleven thousand eight hundred uses for vinegar. One of those was humidifier cleaning. Which we so desperately needed for the cool mist humidifier in Trey's room...

They love me. They really love me! From top left, clockwise. A card from Trey, complete with several goofy photos of him inside. A rose from Aden, delivered to me in person during Sunday school. May have choked up a bit at this one. A flower from Aden. He "decorated the pot" at church, which, as we all know, means he ate dirt while his nursery worker put the stickers on. Love you Aden! A flower I earned for being willing to work the nursery on Mother's Day. A flower Trey planted for me at preschool. A popsicle stick and buttons picture frame Trey made at church. He wrote on it "Trey ♥ Mama". A homemade card from all three of my boys. A coupon reading "1 day of shopping in town alone -- children or husband not included". Woot! A coupon reading "1 day at home alone to do whatever holder would like -- also applies to watching movies already seen or that may have kissing in them". Can I get an amen? It was a wonderful Mother...

They are almost the very best of friends.

Trey hides to count, when he is the seeker. It has finally gotten through to him that he must count slowly and give the hider time to hide. I have the perfect spot in mind. He'll never think to look here. I wedge my bigger-than-I've-ever-been self into the spot. And look up to see a monkey. Wrapped tightly by the neck, in one arm of a sneaky little blondie. He stares at me. Two bright blue eyes and snaggle-teeth, with a whole-face smile. Aden knows my secret. I put my finger to my lips, then whisper, "Don't tell Trey." Trey has begun seeking now, and hearing his singsong, "Where aaaaaare you?", Aden runs to join him. After one room of no luck on his own, I hear Trey say to Aden, "Where's Mama?" Aden giggles. After all, he knows. Then he takes off as fast as his short chicken legs will carry him, monkey flapping in the wind, big brother on his heels. Straight to me. "I found you, I found you!!" Trey is proud of hi...