Halloween 2010

One Great Picture of All 3 Boys Every 12 Months or So........Here it is!!!!

Pumpkin Picking and showing the love for our Phils!!

A Letter to my Son on his 21 Month Birthday!

Dear Turner,

Happy 21 Months!!

 

This morning I woke up to these pictures in my inbox.  Mathew had sent them, perhaps while going through his hard drive.  I thought, how appropriate, to receive these pictures on the 21 month anniversary of your birth.  These pictures brought an immediate smile to my face and a warm feeling to my body.  I remember these moments like they were yesterday, and teary eyed I marvel at how quickly time has passed.  How big you have become.  How wonderful you are.
You were just a few days old in these pictures, now you are 21 months.  When people ask me how old you are, I always say almost two.  ALMOST TWO!!!  That is crazy.  But, true.  And, though I have no interest in rushing time any more than at the speed with which it already passes, the description is accurate.  You communicate now with a large handful of words and gestures.  You follow direction better than most toddlers I have ever known.  You smile endlessly and giggle relentlessly and walk around the house humming and singing and dancing.  You are a a happy, wonderful boy.

You have found a new interest in arts and crafts and will sit at the table and get out the crayons, markers, and paints and start scribbling away.  You are an active participant at the Little Gym, at Creative Parenting, and at our play group.  (Our play group, by the way, meets Friday mornings and includes: Sawyer Cohen, Jeremy Leon, Jackson Woodruff, Logan Wurtz and sometimes Emmy LaPlatt.)  You are such a good boy, who follows instructions, loves  to clean up, and loves to sing and dance.  You have a thing for your shoes, and mine, and want them to always be on your feet.  And, mine.  You insist on doors closed and lights off.  Always!  You have learned to ride your motorcycle by yourself and still love the trampoline.  You have amazing balance on it, for a toddler.  Of course, you have been bounced around on that thing since you were a baby.  You love to take your brother's to school, carry their bags, place their lunches in the bin and put their folders where they belong.  You also insist on seeing both mine and "Anmaime's" confirmation pictures, which hang outside of Chase and Ryder's classroom.  A lovely sight, really!!

We spend our days together.  Something I never had before, one on one time, and I truly love it.  You always have a smile on your face, which, ultimately, puts one on mine as well.

Sometimes you eat, sometimes you don't.  Mostly you play.  Alone, with your brothers.  With me.  You will walk over, grab my hand and lead me where you want to go. I love that you take initiative like that.  You love your daddy and ask for him all day long.  He feels the same about you!!
You also love your "baybay," which is the blanket that you sleep with.  You ask for it by saying, "my baybay, my baybay" and tap your palm to your chest indicating "mine!"  You love your "fre" ,or friend, which is your mini blanket, "bah bah" (barney) and "BU" (Buzz!)  Clearly, you drop the last syllable of most words.

It is hard to believe you are almost two, but every second that has passed has been enjoyable.  you are a true pleasure of a boy and every moment of every day I am beyond proud.  The pictures above, to those below, so much time has passed and you have grown so much and I am just grateful I haven't blinked and missed it.

I love you so!!!!

 

Turner says Chase

Turner has been saying Ryder, RyRy, for a little while.  Whenever we referred to his brothers, he would say "RyRy."  Chase was much more difficult for him and though sometimes he would say "seis" he never did it with much consistency.  Last week Turner started saying his brother's name, with the CH, and very clearly.  He is so proud of this accomplishment that "Chase" is his answer to many questions.
"What's your brother's name?"
Grinning and proud he says, "Chase!"
"What's your other brother's name?"
Grinning and proud he says, "Chase!"
"What's your name?"
Grinning and proud he says, "Chase!"

Nope, it Never Gets Old!

The Phillies, our beloved Phils, have won the NL East.  Again. For the fourth consecutive year! They did so with 5 games left to play. They did so before every other team in the National League and most of the AL teams. They did so in a fashion that has earned them home field advantage throughout the post-season.


Our Phils, as they have come to be known, are the best Phillies ballclub in the history of the franchise. They battled back from as much as a seven game deficit and two very dry, slumping months. They battled back from 6 of 8 starting players on the DL, including a period when they did not have one starting infielder in the game. They managed to pull it together then and to be the best team in baseball during the month of September.

Now, if they can be the best team in baseball in October a stroll down Broad Street would be a guarantee.

I grew up watching the Phillies suck more often than not. The Sillies they were called. But, there were a few good years in there where players like Mike Schmidt, Steve Carlton, and Pete Rose (to name a few) became household names. You still see their jerseys walking around our Philly streets. You always will.
But, now, Utley, Howard, Halladay, Hamels, are the franchise names. 30 years from now we will, likely, still see these "classic" jerseys all about town.

Wednesday, October 6th the first pitch of the play-offs will begin.  I feel good about this October run!  Real good!

Breakfast of Champions? Maybe. Lunch of Superheroes? Defintely!

This was the lunch I made for the boys this morning.

Last year, I made them cool lunch shapes using cookie cutters.  That went fine for a while until I got the creative bug and decided that I could cut, freehand, with a knife, Spider-man, Bat-Man, and more.  I decided amidst sandwich making that baseballs needed stitches, hats needed the Phillies emblem, and that a Spidey sandwich needed the webbing.  I started making cut lines with the tip of the knife, and toothpicks dipped in jelly, but neither were effective. 
In my head I invented food coloring pens.  Yes, that was just what I needed.  It turns out, they exist.  So, I bought them and now, I can't help but make the tedious lunch making task even more tedious, or fun, or tedious depending on how you look at it. 
Admittedly, I am a little too excited about the pens.  The ideas are endless with what I could do with them. 
So, this morning, it was Superman PB&J.  Chase was thrilled.  Ryder, the super hero obsessed, artist in bloom, was happy to see such a design but was not happy that the yellow looked so orange because, "Mommy, Superman's S is blue, and yellow, and red.  NOT ORANGE!"  Dude, I wanted to say, it is yellow, on brown bread.  Get over it.  Instead I explained myself by showing him both the pen I used (which was yellow) and the picture I copied.  He said, "the picture is right, the sandwich is orange."  I offered the sandwich to Turner.  Only then did Ryder decide it was OK to keep.  Later, he told me he loved it. 

And, he loves Superman.

Oh yeah, and he loves me:)

Let's Play Ball!

You'd think, by my level of excitement, that it was me getting out there today.  That I was about to take the field for the big game.  That I was journeying down, what could be, the long, fun path of little league.

Chase and Ryder are beginning baseball today.  It is not even little league, nor tee-ball, it is just an indoor baseball clinic for 4-6 year olds, and I am so excited.  I hope they are.  I have dreamt of little leaguer sons, travel teams, dirty uniforms.  Yes, it is no lie that I have hoped that one, if not three,  of my boys would be baseball players and I would be a baseball mom.  Today is the first step.  Chase and Ryder seem excited, in the same way they are excited for everything in their four year old world. But, me, I am excited and nervous at the same time.  I want them to be great ball players, but I promise to be OK with it if they are not.  Oh No!! I do not want to be the over-bearing, sport obsessed parent.  I do not want to expect more than they can give.  I do not want to forget that they are 4 and not 14, that this is their first time playing, and that at least one of their levels of focus is far from where it needs to be.  No, I do not want to forget these things, but I am not promising anything.

May this be the start of a long childhood of baseball.