The pink blanket had meant to be for warmth. It ended up being a 'splatter guard' for the baby.
How 
The winch worked hard today!
My boys are great friends...mostly.
There are those times of constant bickering, teasing, taunting that makes me sad (and angry).
Today was different. Today Dylan was mean. He said mean things to Kobe and Kobe ended up saying similarly mean things back in retaliation.
We were in the truck when it happened. I talked to the boys about how that might feel, but Dylan was flippant about it. When we got home, I sent Kobe to his room to think and Dylan to Zane's room - it's been cleared of all toys and 'stuff' because of Zane can't be trusted to stay out of trouble - to think.
Dylan's assignment while in there was to think of something he could do that was honouring to Kobe and would make Kobe feel loved.
While thinking, Dylan decided to make Kobe a book to teach him his letters. I liked the idea of a book, but told him he could do a book on how to treat people and a few nice things about Kobe. He wasn't allowed to play until the book was finished.
Here's what he came up with completely on his own...
Translation: Crossed out 'I'll break that' and wrote 'We should not break.'
Translation: 'Kobe, you're a nice brother.'
Translation: 'Kobe, I like how you play cars.' He came home from work for a couple of minutes - just long enough to pick something up.
When he entered the house, he saw her crying on the couch.
He went over, gave her a hug and asked what was wrong.
She didn't answer, just cried harder.
He could hear his youngest crying from upstairs and asked where the children were.
Between sobs, she said, "In their rooms. In timeout."He asked what was wrong.Her response? "I'm just so tired. They won't listen. They have too much energy. I can't keep up. And *sob, sniff* the last one's not even here yet." And it was only 9:30am.
Yep...that's the scene that played out in our home yesterday.
It was one of those mornings. You know the ones - where they all seem to get together and plan how to drive Mama crazy. How to make her so very exhausted she can't even think. And they must know that there is a crazy-point that she can't control her pregnancy hormones one second longer and the waterworks will come bursting like a dam.
The sobbing/praying fiasco was soon finished. My Superman got all of us back on track and the rest of the day went well. I guess I just needed a time out and a hero.
Zane (21 months) has learned how to crawl out of his crib.
This is bad news.
Bad, bad news.
He is a busy, busy, busy little guy. I mean, he never stops moving. Never. It’s been so hard during this pregnancy because I just don’t have the energy or the same physical ability to keep up with him.
His nap time and night-time were truly my only times of rest. And now…gone.
At 1:30 in the morning, Zane got out of bed. He went to Dylan’s room and started jumping on Dylan’s head. Dylan (7) came into our room with Zane, went over to Dwayne and said, “Who’s responsible for this one?” Then he turned around and went back to bed.
I hear ya, Dylan…and at 1:30am, I’m not sure I even want to claim him!
Dwayne put Zane back to bed and put up the baby gate, which he swiftly climbed over in the morning.
Tonight I’m putting a child-lock on his door handle – on the inside.
Put on your thinking caps ‘cuz when he figures out the child-lock, I’m coming back for suggestions.
Do any of you have one of those husbands?
You know...the fun ones, the crazy ones, the ones that just love spending time with their children?
I do.
I have one that finds gross animals late at night and wakes the children up to show them his discoveries!
I protest and pretend I don't . like it that he's young at heart and does goofy things like that!
Rainy day...
Lego order arrived...
Two happy, quiet boys for the entire afternoon...
A treat for them? Or a treat for me? *wink*
The Lord set up a beautiful backdrop for us...
Do you have one of those children who climb, run, fall, and hurt themselves allthetime?
I do.
My little Zane always looks beat up.
There have only been a handful of days since he's learned to walk that he hasn't had a bruised forehead.
He chipped his front tooth a couple of months ago.
His legs - especially around his knees - are always bruised.
This time he got in a fight with a coffee table -and lost.
Yep, this one was hospital-worthy...
What's it mean when Zane sleeps in? A leisurely shower for me.
The other boys are fine downstairs by themselves, right?
After my shower, I went downstairs and before I could see them, I called out, "Good morning boys! Whatcha doin'?"
Dylan (7): "Making tracks."
Me: "Tracks? With what?"
Dylan (7): "Icing sugar."
Our schoolroom floor was covered with the stuff and they had wet the wheels of their trucks so that they could make tracks when they drove their trucks through...
It's doesn't look so bad in the picture, but it was everywhere!
Somebody forgot to tell 
(Kobe wanted to wear his Tigger costume. Next thing I know, I have been thinking of my role as a mom to all boys.
When I had our second son, people would say things like, "Maybe you'll get a girl next time."
Or worse, they'd look at me with a sympathetic look and say, "Aw, honey, better luck next time."
They didn't get it.
They assumed that I wanted a girl. They never stopped to think that maybe I liked being a mom to boys.
Then Zane came along. The comments intensified. "You need to try again." "There's a girl in there somewhere." "Keep trying."
When I tried to explain that it was my desire to have four boys, I got looks that said they really didn't believe me. One lady actually said to me, "I understand. You're saying that so you're not disappointed if you don't get a girl."
I get it now:
I won't be able to explain it. I won't be able to put into words the warm feelings I feel in my heart when I think of my four little guys. They won't understand that raising boys is fun, adventurous, dangerous. They won't feel the sense of seriousness I feel when I think of raising Godly men, fathers, leaders. They won't understand how good it feels to have little guys offering to protect me when they think I'm scared or fight for me when they think I've been wronged.
But...
I'm feeling those feelings.
I'm enjoying my boys.
I'm having a hard time keeping up with their energy, but I am laughing most of the way!
(And I have one friend that does understand a bit. She actually said she feels a small twinge of jealousy when she thinks of me as the queen of my home. It's the first and possibly the last time I may ever hear that, but I'll take it! You know who you are...and thanks for those words.)
