Last week an idea started in my mind as the kids and I were playing and I was playing around with new techniques with my camera.  As they biked and scooted around me and I tried to get a good photo as they zipped by me, I was overwhelmed with how lucky I am.  How much I love them.

Then we had a shift in the forecast.  Waves of whining followed by torrential punching and toy grabbing took the wind out of my sails and I put the thought on hold for a few days.  It's hard for love to keep gushing when it's interrupted so frequently by bursts of "PLEASE STOP DOING THAT". 

After several days of following the Grandma Jane and Grandpa Pat approach (play outside A LOT, enjoy the nice weather, work on projects using the kids as my manual labor sidekicks), I feel revitalized.  And love is back in the air.  I no longer remember that original idea I had last week, but I'm so thrilled to have the fun-lovin' non-whinin' version of my kids back that the relief is tangible.


And just like that he could ride a bike without training wheels.  It came in stages, first just riding on the grass, then learning to stop with the brakes, and finally starting off on his own.


If my arms could do it, she'd stay on the swing all day long, yelling for me to push her"faster!"


It's hard to say no to this face.  Which is why my left arm looks like it belongs to Popeye, and my right to Olive Oyl, after three years of holding her on my left hip.