Tackle Boxes

28.6.16 Ali Moore 0 Comments



We went back to Hiawatha for the weekend to soak up some good family time.  
Gosh, it was so nice to be around my brother and sister-in-law and their family, Andrew's cousins, brothers and parents.  We didn't have much on the agenda, and that's kind of been our theme for the summer.

I have been relishing in the slower start to our mornings 
without the dash to preschool drop off. We typically get a cool morning walk in after breakfast, and then I get the kids situated with playdough or cartoons and actually get to sit and drink an entire cup of coffee without reheating it five times. 

We got over the initial transition of school to no school and had such a breezy start to June, and then the last couple of weeks have been tryyyyyyying.  

I really struggle with maintaining the stamina and patience and energy it takes to deal with the combination of extreme will + highly active + orneriness.  All. Day. Every. Day.  Oh, and the girls!  Ha!  So anytime there can be extra hands around, I'm all in.

This little fishing adventure was so much fun.  Henry literally jumped for joy every time someone hooked a fish, which happened a lot because we caught the fish on a cooperative day.  Or a hungry day.  Or whatever...we just caught them!

It was a good morning, and we sure needed that.

One of these days, I'm going to figure out the right gear to throw in my parenting tackle box, and we'll get a few of these good mornings and good afternoons turned into an entire good day, and there will be more jumping for joy.  

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The Things He Says

2.6.16 Ali Moore 0 Comments

Henry has successfully mastered riding his bike without training wheels AND without having to rely on me for a push to get him rolling so Franklin is now allowed back on our daily walks with us.  It was touch and go for a while because pushing a double jogger, while holding onto the dog's leash/pulling him back beside the stroller instead of letting him stop to pee on every tree we pass, and then stop, park the stroller, pull Frank with me, give Henry a push, repeat, repeat, repeat was even more of a side show than we already typically are.

(In response to the couple that saw us this morning and exclaimed, "you've got the whole crew today!", I responded with, "yes...we are basically a parade these days," because #yesivegotmyhandsfull and #yesimbusy and #wetakeuptheentirestreet and all of those other things that we hear anytime we go out in public on all the days.)

Back to the story...
 
So, on Tuesday, we walked before lunchtime and were headed back home when we stopped to talk to our neighbor.  And Henry exclaimed/yelled (because that's how he always talks), "I'm four!!" because he is as of Saturday, and four was a BIG DEAL and anyone who has come in contact with him since is now in the know of his age.

We're chatting, and Franklin keeps trying to weasel his way over to the curb 
so he can wallow in the puddles leftover 
from the monsoon Wichita experienced last week, 
and I keep pulling him back towards me and the stroller, and he keeps pulling away, 
and finally he wins and flops into the water 
and immediately sprawls out to cool down his big belly.  

And I sigh and say, 
"He's almost seven!  You would think he'd quit doing stuff like this, 
but I think he does it to spite me 
because he doesn't get as much attention as he used to."  

Not missing a beat, Henry pipes in...

"Mommy...?"

"...are you talking about Daddy?"
 
 
The transition last week from school to summer was a bit touch and go, and I sure know better than to say anything out loud about my kids because as soon as I do the opposite happens, but since then, summer's been pretty, pretty good with Ham.

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