preschool grad, too

yesterday, our afton joined the ranks of official preschool graduate.

she and her fellow graduates partied hard at the park to commemorate the momentous occasion (man, i wish i had a group shot!)

proud of her commemorative certificate of advancement.

her class graduation cake.

with her (and summer's) preschool teacher, mrs. swenson.

kindergarten: here she comes!!

end of school snippets

school isn't out for a few more weeks, but we've still been keeping plenty busy with all the end of year happenings. 

here are a few glimpses into the non-stop life of our almost-no-longer-a-kindergartener:

rushing out the door to catch the bus (finishing breakfast on the porch), per our usual.

definitely never one to shy away from enthusiasm.

earned for reading one hundred and twenty books.

when there's love at home

oh, you know, just another family game night at the wheelers:
(psst: you might want to turn the volume down on this one...)



http://youtu.be/SDYGK_8tr3A

#brothers

#dancemoms

summer and her cute friend, ellie, before recital pics.

there'd be days like this

so as the mother of four young children, i try to stay away from stressful situations as much as possible. duh. who doesn’t? but every now and again, there are certain places i have to go and certain things i have to do that will inevitably bring about a certain amount of stress. okay, fine. that’s life. i get it.

but before i decide whether or not i have the emotional reserves to engage in such potentially stressful activities, i like to apply a newly-developed little litmus test:

is this activity going to cause me a “regular” amount of stress or a “gone to Costco at the busiest time of day with your three small children and your debit card has been denied and you don’t know why and you don’t have any checks and you don’t have any other way of paying for your groceries and you don’t want to go home empty-handed because it took you months to find the energy to get here and you really need the dishwasher detergent because you haven’t run your dishwasher in, like, three days, so you’re shuffled to the front of all the cash registers where everyone is watching you, and you’re on the phone with your bank while your newborn is screaming bloody murder because he’s tired and he’s totally done with being at Costco, and he won’t stop screaming (not even a little bit), and you’re looking like a complete idiot bouncing him like crazy while he continues to scream, and the automated system can’t understand what you’re saying because of all the screaming, and customer service can’t understand what you’re saying because of all the screaming, and they've hung up on you two times and you've entered your (expletive) account number and your (expletive) pin number for the (expletive) thousandth time trying to get a hold of someone, and now your toddler is screaming bloody murder because you’re on the phone and he thinks you’re talking to his daddy and he really, really, really wants to talk to his daddy, and you’re trying really, really, really hard not to cry in front of all these people, and did i mention that everyone is watching? and you are in a hurry because you have another child that needs to be picked up from school, and oh, good, so you’re telling me you issued me a new debit card (four months ago) and that this one won’t work? WON’T WORK?!? and is there anything, ANYTHING you can do?? (and the children are still screaming), and you’re scrambling, SCRAMBLING to find something, SOMETHING in your wallet to pay for these groceries (or at least the dishwasher detergent), a folded up check maybe somewhere? some gum? an old-school calling card? a receipt from your doctor’s office? a horse! a horse! my kingdom for a horse! and…and…and…you miraculously (and i do mean, miraculously) find the new debit card your bank issued you, and your children have finally stopped crying, and you are carrying your baby as you push your cart (one handed) out to your car, and you load everything and everyone in, and then you hang your head on the steering wheel and burst into tears” amount of stress?

‘cause if it’s the latter, i’m just not sure it’s worth it anymore.

mother

Who fed me from her gentle breast,
And hush’d me in her arms to rest,
And on my cheek sweet kisses prest?
My Mother.

When sleep forsook my open eye,
Who was it sung sweet hushaby,
And rock’d me that I should not cry?
My Mother.

Who sat and watched my infant head,
When sleeping in my cradle bed,
And tears of sweet affection shed?
My Mother.

When pain and sickness made me cry,
Who gazed upon my heavy eye,
And wept for fear that I should die?
My Mother.

Who dress’d my doll in clothes so gay,
And taught me pretty how to play.
And minded all I had to say?
My Mother.

Who taught my infant lips to pray,
And love God’s holy book and day.
And walk in Wisdom’s pleasant way?
My Mother.

And can I ever cease to be
Affectionate and kind to thee,
Who was so very kind to me?
My Mother

Ah, no! the thought I cannot bear;
And if God please my life to spare,
I hope I shall reward thy care,
My Mother.

Who ran to help me when I fell,
And would some pretty story tell,
Or kiss the place to make it well?
My Mother.

When thou art feeble, old, and gray,
My healthy arm shall be thy stay,
And I will soothe thy pains away.
My Mother.

And when I see thee hang thy head,
‘Twill be my turn to watch thy bed.
And tears of sweet affection shed,
My Mother.

--Ann Taylor

dallin bryan blessed

throwback thursday

a mother of one.

a life of ease

three months:

the question i'm asked the most these days is whether or not dallin is an easy baby.

the longer answer involves delving into the subtleties of the word "easy," quoting words of wisdom from the great tom hanks in a league of their own, waxing eloquent on the meaning and purpose of life, musing about motherhood b.c. and a.c. (before caleb and after caleb), and of course, never, ever forgetting that dallin is a baby. who can do nothing for himself. and that there's a gaggle of young children around all the time who have made it hazy in my mind what easy is even supposed to mean anymore.

but the short answer is yes.

for example, last night during dinner, when i was (yet again) the only adult around for the evening, and summer started vomiting all over the table, and afton was getting vomited on and wouldn't move out of the way, and i was yelling at summer to grab a bowl to vomit in, and yelling at afton to move out of the way, and trying to catch some of the vomit with my hands, and afton started crying, and summer started crying, and caleb, sensing the commotion, started violently throwing his food all over. there was dally.

sitting in his swing.

and he was all, "you know what? it's cool. i totally see that you guys are all crazy and stuff, and i'm gonna give you a minute -- maybe even an hour -- to get this little situation under control before i calmly and politely ask for a diaper change and some dinner of my own. so mom, don't worry about me, 'cause it looks like at the moment, you've got your hands full."

and i'm all, "thank you, dally. just. thank you."