my GQ boy(s!)

PART I:  Aidan wants a suit.

He's wanted one for ages, really.  I wasn't about to buy one while he was in Nursery, and last Christmas I cringed at the price tags attached to any that I deemed acceptable.  But this year Santa came through for the boy.  And the boy was all grins.  Now, A is not exactly a child who picks up after himself or puts toys away without extreme prodding.  But on the day after Christmas I was surprised to see his little suit hung neatly in my closet with all of Jim's dress clothes.  It warmed my heart. 

 

 PART II:  Aidan has a fantastic dad.

On the Sunday after Christmas we were going to be in the mountains outside of Payson.  To me, that means *no church*.  But Jim thought A would be disappointed, so he looked up the time for the little Christopher Creek branch and packed both of their suits.  Me:  "He won't really know if we wait until next week to wear the suit." 

But Jim knew his boy.  We woke the boys up early the next morning to jump in the car and be on our way.  The first thing Aidan said (and in a groggy state, mind you):  "Did you pack my suit, Dad?"

My heart warmed.  Again.   

 

boys meet snow

Shanon and Jared (Jim's brother) invited us to come to her dad's cabin with them this weekend (thank you!).  We gladly accepted, anxious for a getaway and a chance to introduce the boys to snow.   

 
Aidan hadn't been around snow since Megan so rudely moved away from Flagstaff two years ago.  But I guess it's no surprise that he inately knew the full boy purpose of this white wonder.  The problem: this snow, sparse and far from fresh, was more like ice than powder. 

And no one likes being hit by ice. 

I suppose I should be glad Aidan & Abby didn't hone in on Davyn or Jake as target material.  Instead it was Jim.  And they went after him with full force. 

Do you see our sweet Abby Kay?
Looks can certainly be deceiving...check out her game face & form:

Snowballs in hand, this girl turns all business. 

And the face definitely merits a close-up. 

Like I said:  business. 

Well, after multiple upon multiple hits, Jim meant business, too.  Not really, but you'd think so seeing the next picture.  A's head turned at the wrong moment, leaving his face looking like this:

And I wonder...is it wrong that I love this picture?!  Such raw, tender pain in the boy I've "kissed better" thousands of times. 

And what was Boy #2 up to in the midst of the drama?

Peaceful play in a place called Davynland.  

He

is

quite

quite

easily

entertained. 

 
And surprisingly biddable when asked to pose with a non-eager Jake.  

Poor Jake. 

Is it wrong that I laughed as D chased him down?!

I say it's allowed because this boy is all kinds of tough.
And he reminds me that I truly want a redhead of my own.
Curse my overpowering genetics. 

Thank you Jared & Shanon for a fantastic trip! 

SPT re-take: new favorite ornament

I know I'm fairly fresh at this mom job, but some of the simple moments still steal my breath.  Like opening this present - the first of many child-made ornmanets to adorn our tree, I'm sure.  Still...I had to literally gulp back tears.  Because he's growing up so quickly...because he's flesh of my flesh... because I love him hugely.

As for Lelly's challenge of this week, I'm foregoing the picture portion, but will say that while the littles are nestled in their beds fast asleep, Jim & I mostly spend our evenings together in our separate worlds.  I'll have to snap a picture some time of our side by side desks & computers in the office (which is a post Christmas card MESS right now).  I am definitely a person who needs "me" time, but it's somehow more complete "me" time with Jim on the edge.  And I don't expect that to make sense to anyone but myself...but I love the peace in that reality.

Addendum:  Marie just asked if Aidan made this himself.  Heavens no, this was not all his working.  He proudly told me, however, that he painted the red and pushed his picture in from the back. His teacher did the cute pom-pom & bow adorning, I'm sure. He's more of a knot man, himself. 

snow & lightsabers & such

This is London.

On Christmas morning she is in for BIG TIME disappointment.

We were talking a few days back and she (in the *very knowing* way that only a girl child can truly master) told me about her upcoming Christmas. 

"First, we will wake up and open presents.  Then we will go outside and play in the snow."   

I attempted to explain the fundamental truth that southern Arizona Christmases aren't white.  Ever.  

The response (again, all-knowing):  "No.  We are playing in the snow on Christmas."  I so wish I could similarly dismiss stark reality with a confident, cursory "No".

***

On the home front, I've just begun worrying about Christmas disappointment.  The price of finishing my shopping early, no doubt.  A month ago, when I asked Aidan what he wanted Santa to bring him, the list topper was a Volcano.  I swallowed hard, wondering how I could possibly make that dream come true.  Then I turned to my dear friend Google, checked that off the list, waited for the package on my doorstep, and patted myself on the back.

Now, suddenly, Aidan has discovered that he absolutely, positively needs a red lightsaber for Christmas.  He wanted me to be sure to tell Santa.  "I just want him to bring me a red lightsaber."  Darn that "just". 

***

Luckily, my child's disappointment is mendable within $20.  Poor Mandi needs a crash course on commanding the elements. 

43 cents

Things weren't going Aidan's way yesterday.  After some room banishment time, he emerged with demands for a new mom.

...and asked if I was going to move out.

I asked,  "Where should I go?"

So he went upstairs and clambered back down with a fist full of change.  Forty-three cents plus two Chuck E. Cheese coins.  "This can help you buy your own house."

I pocketed the money, swallowed my smile and the day continued.  

Later, as I was shuffling around my bedroom, he ran in, fully panicked.  "Are you packing your clothes?! I don't want you to go!" 

"No, I'm your mom forever."

He grinned wide and asked for his "moneys" back.