My sad little blog has really gone by the wayside lately.
Life has a crazy, sneaky way of sideswiping you, not always in a bad way.
So we had spring and summer and fall and birthdays and decisions and some vacations and some more decisions.
So here is a snapshot of our little life right now:
Little Man is almost 7. I, the consummate, self-proclaimed obsessive party planner have yet to begin planning his party. What has happened to me? Little Man, though, is seeming less and less little as the days go by. The summer saw the loss of many more teeth in his apparently too-small mouth and the arrival of some even bigger teeth. His smile makes me smile. Every time. The awkwardness of the giant teeth and the spaces and the squinty-eyed grin combined make me melt. Every time. Except when he's making me crazy, in which case I only defrost a bit. :) He is Mr. Soccer, Mr. Football, Mr. Light Saber and Legos, too. Little Man has become quite a smart, outgoing fellow. I am so proud of him. And those cute, big teeth. I'm blaming his father for them...!
Littlest Man is 5. FIVE. Half a decade. Who the heck took those years? He was just my baby. Our "OH MY WORD! We're pregnant!" baby, 20 months younger than his big brother. My smiling from the moment he was born (almost) baby. And now he's starting to read and (currently) covered in chicken pox (from the booster, can you believe it?) and riding a bike without training wheels. His dimple (just one!) is so deep and so charming and so dangerous (you could fall into that thing) that it should come with a warning sign. One little sheepish or even sneaky grin, and I'm smitten. Watch out, World. Or at least girls of the world. When this fellow decides he's putting on the charm, it's ON. And he's FIVE. Did I mention that? FIVE. Cinco. My heart hurts just typing it.
Little Miss Pink. Oh, my baby girl. She's two and almost a half. My baby who I will call "baby" until forever comes. She is sweet and sassy and spunky and stubborn as all get out. But, man! is she cute. She loves shoes and shopping and purses like there's no tomorrow, frequently changing purses and making certain she has one of her cell phones, lest she lose touch with her peeps. The child was fairly mute for almost 18 months, save for the traditional "mama, dada, baby" words. And one day, the girl woke up and started to talk. And she hasn't stopped since. She wants what she wants and has often been heard sassing after being scolded that, "I'm not naughty, I'm just cute!" We're in trouble.
My favorite Irish hubby (and only Irish or any other breed hubby, for that matter) & I celebrated our ninth anniversary this summer. I can't remember what we did....wait. It will come to me. Oh yes. We went out for a fancy dinner and saw a play. But the day isn't really the celebration. It's the day in, day out that is. I continue to be amazed that I married this fellow when we were practically babies (22!), and yet God, in His infinite wisdom, knew that we were meant to be. We've grown closer and stronger and better every year. And he has gotten even cuter. Way cuter. We may have more wrinkles and a few gray hairs (him, not me...!) and some stretch marks (me, not him!) and lots more mileage on us, but I wouldn't trade the "us" we are now for anything. And ten years is coming up fast and furious! Lucky we! Lucky me.
So, that's an update from our little corner of the world. I hope to attend more carefully to this little blog. No promises. Life is crazy. But it's good.
