Mice

Over the past month, we have caught over 10 mice in our so-called "live traps." 

• 7 made it to local parks at least two miles away (so not to find their way back);
• 1 we brought to a park, but not soon enough...;
• 1 "slipped out" in the car on the way to a park (Clara only opened it a "teeny tiny bit" to peek);
• 1 we found dead under the dishwasher.  (See below.)
• 1 we found dead on the patio.  (Could our deaf and blind cat really be so skilled?)

In her dinnertime gratitudes, June always expresses thanks for the mice, our newest pets.  In the middle of the night, John says "mouse" to calm himself down and get back to sleep.  Clara all but kisses them inside the trap.  And Will battles to be the one to let them out.  It's sweet how they have quickly become a welcome part of our home life.  Most will miss them when they're gone.

Slow Motion Smoothie

Certain parenting moments really call for slow motion replay.

To celebrate spring break, we went to our favorite brunch place this morning.  It is about as fancy as we go.  The kids sat along a nicely upholstered bench with Jeff and me far across the table.  When three lid-less smoothies arrived, John grabbed one, cruised along the bench, and the panic began.  Here it is in slow motion:

Jeff:  "G-r-a-b   i-t   N-O-W  W-i-l-l!!!"

Alice: "L-e-t  h-i-m  b-e  s-o  h-e  w-o-n-'t  s-p-i-l-l!!!"

Will:  Speechless, trying to follow all directions.

Clara:  "Ha-ha-ha-ha-ha-ha-ha!"

June:  "L-o-o-k  a-t  m-y  d-r-a-w-i-n-g!"

John's expression as he whirled the glass around was sheer joy, mixed with determination to escape Will's grasp, and desperation to get a drink.

Remarkably, the smoothie did not spill.  However, our personalities in panic mode poured out quite freely.

La Luna

I do not pretend to have any parenting tricks.  Jeff, however, has one.  Here it is: "Want to see la luna?" Actually, it's interchangeable with "What to go look for deer?"

Four kids running, it works every time.  A child (must be under 3) will be in the throws of a fit and boom.  As if in a trance, they outstretch their arms and go on their search.  Any time, any place.  It makes no sense whatsoever.

So, were we to write a parenting book, that would be it.  I am baffled by the confidence of anything else.  (P.S.  Speaking of confidence, however, Jeff just requested that I use the words "baby whisperer.")

One of my favorite holiday memories actually involved la luna.  On the winter solstice, I forced myself (an unusual twist on "John forced me") to stay awake until midnight, and then woke everyone up with hot chocolate and candles to watch the lunar eclipse.  It was magical and strange and red and cold and beautiful.  By the quality of these pictures, however, I'm not sure anyone was actually awake.

Two by Two

The boys and I recently returned from a trip visiting cousins in Durango.  It is a strange deja vu, watching our youngest interact, much as our first two did at this age eight short years ago.  In similar fashion, they dance, squeeze into laundry baskets, play in the park, "take turns," take baths, squeal, and romp in the yard.

Witnessing these interactions felt so special the first time around.  It's just as special the last, only with an added wistful tone.

Books, Buses and Balls

Books, buses, and balls - these are John's passions.  (If you don't count his siblings, that is.  I've never had a child so determined to imitate the others.) 

I appreciate his simplicity.  Especially when those around him are not always so simple.  Including myself.

Expressive Feet

Here are some recent photos of June and Clara's feet.  No need to say more.

Don't Be Fooled

This is one of my all-time favorite scenes.  It captures such beauty - little June on cross-country skis, the quiet winter, being out there, in the woods, snow on the trees, adventure, snow-shoes, closeness to cold weather nature.  For the hour we were there, I was in heaven.

But, don't be fooled.

The price of this quiet beauty was 3 hours of unimaginable drama and noise, spurred by ill-fitting winter attire, injustices in our family, missing toothbrushes, itchy hats, screaming little brothers, screaming sisters, "stupid-heads", and mysteriously invisible boo-boos.

I will always have that Waldon Pond moment.  But to be true to life, I'll have to remember it all.