My kids rarely fall asleep outside their beds but this dude was spent. It was 9 in the morning, he had a belly full of milk and he was tired of waiting for me to get out of the shower. So he parked it with his threadbare blanket and fell asleep on the hardwood floor.
I sat on the couch and admired his little body curled up on the floor. I love how is legs are tucked underneath his bum. I love how his lips are smooshed against his blanket. I love that he slept through two exciting episodes of Daniel Tiger’s Neighborhood. And I love that I captured it because he’ll never be this little again and he might never fall asleep on the floor this way. Childhood is too short.
Our neighborhood “Rock the Block” party was this weekend and despite above normal temperatures we still managed to have a lot fun with a better turn out than last year. This event is only made possible by the many people who work so hard to plan and organize and donate to the cause. It takes a village to pull this off and I’m grateful for it each and every year – it makes for a strong neighborhood community.
As soon as we arrived, the kids found their friends and made their way through the activities. The streets were blocked off and the food and activities were probably less than the length of one football field and yet I can count on one hand how many times I saw Hunter throughout the night. He found his friends and they parked it at the inflatable wrestling pit. When I needed him, I knew exactly where to find him.
Our good friend is a balloon artist and he was busy the entire night. The line was longer for his balloon animals than for the rock wall.
The Candy Cannon is a favorite in our neighborhood. It shoots candy high in the air and kids scramble as if it were a piñata. Its quite the sight. I love Hallie’s reaction in the next two pictures – excited and confident she’s going to catch some and then fearful it’s going to hurt when it hits her.
We ate. We danced. We had popcorn. And snowcones. We played minute-to-win-it games where I proudly brought home a title. We admired old cars on display. We watched kids play. We took silly photos. We enjoyed old friends. We made new friends. We were reminded of why this particular neighborhood spoke so clearly to us when we were searching for a home – it’s where we were meant to be, where we fit, where we’re growing.
I figured I should finish writing about my dad’s visit two months ago before I move on to my mom’s visit two weeks ago.
My dad is a good sport. He agrees to come out and help me with projects large and small. This year my highest priority was the bookshelf closet doors. Everything else he helped with was icing on the cake. The light fixtures that needed replacing. The sink that wouldn’t drain. The two bathroom fans that needed to be rebuilt. The fence that needed new wood planks.
We also started another large project – Hunter and Bennett’s closet build out which required building lots of drawers. Just an hour before he was leaving for the airport we were installing in their closet. (Still have a little more to do before it’s finished).
This trip and sadly most of his trips are a lot of work, little play. Luckily, Sunday is a day of rest from all projects and we were able to play games and take the kids to the temple visitor’s center.
And somehow amidst loud children, my dad still has the ability to sleep anywhere, through just about anything. My kids thought this was pretty funny. He works so hard every time he comes to visit, I’m sure he loves returning home to rest!. Cannon especially loved having him around, wrestling, eating lunch with him and bringing the same book over and over again for him to read. We love his help and we love his visits.
Okay – so this is the last Easter post, I promise. As I was going through pictures from our Easter dinner, I came across the picture of Briggs in his basket.
He had been grumpy and crying the whole evening and then we squeezed him into his basket and immediately he was all smiles and giggling. Funny kid.
I went back and found his picture from last year in the same exact basket in the same exact lawn. He’s a little bigger than he was last year. It’s amazing the difference a year can make for him…and for me.
I’m pretty sure this is the last year I’ll be able to squeeze him in there which makes this the last Easter I’m squeezing any child in a basket. Not sure why I ever started doing this – I suppose Hunter was just the right size on his first Easter and somehow that created a tradition. Poor Hallie – she didn’t even have a basket until Hunter was born – we’re lucky we even have pictures. I think most people start off taking the most pictures of their first child and then trail off. I’m the opposite. I’m hitting my groove with child #5 and he’s going to be the most documented out of all of them.
Here are a few pictures from our pre-Easter festivities…
Our kitchen chalkboard for the month – a line from one of my favorite church songs, I Know That My Redeemer Lives. I found myself singing this line over and over again and I caught Hallie on multiple occasions singing it as well. Can’t think of a better song in my head on repeat in preparation for Easter.
We spent the week before Easter studying the last week of our Savior’s life. Every day we would pull out some pictures and read about the events leading up to His resurrection. I found this note in the kitchen one evening. Hallie is holding strong in our favorite daughter status, she is truly a gem and helps out beyond measure.
Bennett had a spring flight at school. I had no intention of going, but Bennett made it known that he really wanted me to come. So I was there. He ignored me most of them time and played with his friends. But I was there and I was able to see his excitement – he always puts on a good show.
We had our annual Ridge Run breakfast/egg hunt/service project. The kids each found their buddies and we didn’t see much of them the whole morning.
Briggs was trying to figure out if he liked the rabbit. It was conclusive he did not! 😉
I fail in the “fun mom” department when it comes coloring Easter eggs. Our family egg hunts never include real eggs so there’s never a need to color any. Its just not a tradition we follow. My friend wanted to make sure I wasn’t depriving my kids of wonderful memories and she made sure my kids had the opportunity to color some. Did my kids love it – of course they did. Don’t kids love anything that makes a large mess?! We’ll just make sure to head to their house every year so we can color a couple of their eggs!
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