OK... still not good at doing this on a regular basis BUT I have a goal!

So... last time I promised I would do this more regularly.  I don't want to forget all of the funny stuff going on here.  But, time gets in the way.  Andrew is now almost 8 months old.  He is such a "chill" baby.  Happy, healthy and has such a great laugh.  I tell mom all of the time that his smile reminds me of Nan - it lights up his whole face.  He's getting ready to crawl - on all fours and rocking back and forth.  Soon, he will be mobile! 

Sean is such a joy (and challenge - but what 2 1/2 year old isn't?).  He is willful, stubborn and has a smidge of a temper - but what do you expect with me as a mom?  He's also bright, energetic, loving, empathetic, wonderful little boy.  He loves dinosaurs, trains, cars, trucks and the like.  He's able to hit a ball out of the air with a paper towel tube at 2 1/2!  He loves to play games and has a great imagination.  He's rough and tumble and all boy when it comes to play - and I love that about him!  He loves to "help" me do things - as long as it's his idea!  There are a million things I need to write about and I will try to do it more often (I know I said that before!).  BUT - I have a new laptop at home - so that's one of my goals!

Sean LOVES his little brother, and Andrew ADORES his big brother.  I can't wait to see them grow up together. 

So I really have problems living in the "now" as I call it.  I have always been 10 steps ahead of things in my mind - this has caused problems with where I am in body!  So I have been really trying to slow it down and remember to enjoy this ride.  So, a poem to share (and probably make you tear up!):

To My Grown-Up Son

My hands were busy through the day,

I didn’t have much time to play

The little games you asked me to

I didn’t have much time for you.

I’d wash your clothes; I’d sew and cook

But when you’d bring your picture book

And ask me, please, to share your fun,

I’d say, “A little later, son.”

I’d tuck you in all safe at night,

And hear your prayers, turn out the light,

Then tiptoe softly to the door,

I wish I’d stayed a minute more.

For life is short, and years rush past,

A little boy grows up so fast,

No longer is he at your side,

His precious secrets to confide.

The picture books are put away,

There are no children’s games to play,

No goodnights kiss, no prayers, to hear,

That all belongs to yesteryear.

My hands once busy, now lie still,

The days are long and hard to fill,

I wish I might go back and do,

The little things you asked me to.

 

- Alice E. Chase

So, while I try to stay in the moment and make time for my boys, I will also try to make time to write about their exploits.  That's my goal.