school spirit

A couple of days ago, the little boys and I were driving and passed Mesquite High School.  There was a huge Wildcat painted on a wall we passed, which got Aidan going.  With excitement.  So I explained that every school has its own mascot.  This fascinated his 5-year-old animal/character/team-loving mind.  So he asked what my school's was. 

A toro. 

What's that? 

A big bull. 

(I chuckled knowing what the next question would be.)

What about Dad's school?

A jackrabbit.

Aidan was incredulous (mouth literally gaping).  As in, he thought I was kidding because how could the coolest person in the whole world, perhaps whole galaxy, have possibly gone to a school represented by such wimpy nonsense. 

But then I kindly saved Dad's rep by reminding Aidan of Sparky, the ASU (dad's true blue school) mascot.  Sparky trumps all in his world. 

And it's not just Sparky.  ASU owns a decent chunk all three of my men's hearts, big and little alike.  Each morning when Jim heads to work, the boys kiss him, high five, then end with an enthusiastic "Go Devils!"  Seriously. Every. Morning.

So this Valentine's day, Jim and I decided to take a gamble on delighting the little boys.  We hopped on the light rail in Mesa.  And headed to Tempe.

They thought it was a simple joy ride, and were excited when we passed the ASU football stadium, getting off in front of A Mountain. Excitement turned to positively overwrought as we hiked up the path that led them to the glorious "A".Where they climbed.

And slid.

Then climbed some more.

I had to snap this picture to show the enormity of some of the stair steps up the mountain in comparison to Davyn's little legs.  The boy was a trooper and would accept no assistance as we worked our way to the top. My expression is a bit on the freaky side in this picture, but behind us is the ASU stadium, and I had to include one of me to mark the day..despite.

My 3 Valentines.  You can't get much luckier.

I discovered something about my two littles at the top:  they have no fear.  Their scampering around the rocks made me psychotically nervous.  But Jim was at ease, so I worked hard to keep my insides calm{ish}. 

We walked down Mill Avenue after the "A" highlight (you seriously should have heard them go on & on about the "hike"). {This jackrabbit monument made me laugh after the conversation earlier this week, so I had to snap a picture here.}

Then we headed home, beat.

I realize they're still young (and I've yet to delve into my own subtler version of BYU love), but I will be shocked if my two don'tgo to ASU. 

But we'll definitely be coming back to campus with them before that.

creative friday: kids edition

Michael and Tasha brilliantly gave Aidan a hands-on Christmas gift.  A sock puppet-making kit, to be precise.  So today was the day we pulled it out and invited Mandi and her girls over to create.  Well, the kids' input only went as far as design because I wasn't about to let them touch the glue gun.  So they spent the majority of the afternoon outside playing.  But, Mandi and I did get creative on our own.  So, here, they are..

Drumroll, please..

Our puppet creations!

Aidan's Alien Superhero.

Savannah's Butterfly.

Davyn's Snake.

And London's Supergirl.

And little Reagan sat in the stroller, pleased as punch to be part of the outside, big kid world.

We're enjoying true weather perfection, my friends.  Remind me in July that this is why I love Arizona so.

a love story in later life

My grandparents (now 94 and 84) are very much in love. 

Visiting with them this week, I was talking to Grandpa about his mini-stroke last March.  I asked if - in the moment - he had ever thought his time was up.  His answer:  "Well, I felt my arm and side go numb, and thought this might be it, so I said, 'Mary, come over and give me a big kiss.'" 

Grandma didn't know there was a reason..didn't need a reason obviously, because she was quickly by his side.  She says, "I came over and kissed him real good." It was then mere seconds before she realized something was wrong and that he could no longer speak. 

But Grandpa finished with the magical ending, the key to his eventual recovery, "Well, she kissed me and that took care of everything."

I told them that was the best Valentine story I had heard all week.  And so it is.

Winter Soccer

We're halfway through.This picture was the first game.  Aidan was a powerful Defender, and he laughed maniacally as he'd boot the ball away.  And my A's maniacal laugh is something to behold.  The sheer Joy.This one was the third game.  Where I was late for the start because I went to snag donuts for the "healthy" breakfast we didn't manage at home before the early a.m. picture day start.

Jim is coaching this time.  And I enjoy watching him on the field as much as I do his mini-me #9.  Or maybe a bit more.  There's no maniacal laughing, but I do catch subdued snippets of Joy from Coach Scott.  When I stare.  Which I sometimes do.

to Davyn at 4

You turned four this week. And I’m feeling it. For the past three days, I’ve been trying to maneuver some snuggle time to sit and look through your baby book together. But you’ll have none of it. Which tells me more than anything that my baby has turned full-fledged boy. So I busy myself in staving off bitterness. You do reject my advances gently, after all. With a simple “not now” (inferring later?) or “I’m busy, Mom”. “There’s a huge, wide, mom-less world to be explored”...well, that’s what your eyes say anyway.

And those bright eyes are very obviously widened by the breadth of that world. This has been the year of your awakening. For so, so long your universe was mom-centric. Now your imagination and hours are consumed in play. When Aidan is at school, your time is spent in the playroom, where worlds of figurines both human and animal come to life. The self-chatter is endless. And my ears do spy (much amused) occasionally.

Less amusing by far is your newfound favorite phrase...given in ready response to all information. "I know that", with the "know" drawn out lengthily in exasperated whine.

Well (though the gaps are bigger than what you’ll admit), I do have to admit that the category of what you know expands daily. You soak up knowledge like a sponge, with an already interest in writing and letters. Aidan swats you away daily as you hover over his homework-ing. You protest angrily in turn. I can hardly believe that you still have another year and a half before starting kindergarten. You seem so ready.

Over the past year we’ve made more effort to have both you & Aidan pray nightly as a family. And the evolution of your prayers has been interesting. In the beginning, this was the daily entreating: “Bless mom to be safe. Bless Aidan to be super safe. And bless dad to be super l-o-n-g safe.” I can still hear the cadence of your saying it; it makes me smile. You then went through a phase of blessing the food each night - full-bellied, p.j.-clad, kneeling by the bed. It drove Aidan crazy. But now you have turned to what I believe is at the core of D...your people love. You remember and think of those you love. And in that you remind me to think of the beauty in others.

So many times when my visiting teacher comes over or we leave the company of a friend, you’ll follow the parting with a “she was b-e-a-u-tiful.” At first this habit bothered me, seeming to detract from the words that were once reserved for me alone. But now I realize that there’s plenty of sincere love in your little self – far more than enough to go around.

I feel blessed & blessed & blessed to be your mother. Your life delight delights me in turn. And I suppose I can be content in knowing – as you wander further into a wider world – that I might not be your last love, but I'll always be your first.