and now he's 4

What is it about giving a little boy a haircut that makes him look so much older?  It was due time for Beckham to have his hair cut.  After the last time, which was traumatic for both of us, I thought he might end up looking like Rapunzel before I got the courage to try it again. I really was just waiting for the police to show up he was screaming so loud.  It was terrible!  I even had everything I could think of to distract him.  This time, I must have thought of the right things.  I gave him a little bag of skittles, put him in a booster seat and sat him in the living room with his favorite tv show on.  He takes forever to eat, even candy, so he savored every little skittle and they lasted the entire time.  He didn't put up a fuss at all, until the very end when he had hair in his eyes. I actually really loved his hair long. I love the color and texture.  It's so thick and soft.  It looks adorable when it lays right.  That was the problem.  It was never laying right.  He had bedhead every morning which was hard to tame, and if I didn't have time to fix it, it stayed that way.  I love the short hair too, and cut it extra short just because I wasn't sure how long we'd have to go between cuts.  Maybe we are on to something here.  He looks so handsome.

See what I mean? These pictures were taken 1 day apart.  He looks a whole year older.

then it was his turn

Last night this little man got to spend the night in our bed.  We really don't make a habit out of this, but I am not opposed to embracing a good reason.  As Matt and I were about to head to bed, Kaden was crying.  I could tell he was hurting.  He limped his way out to the living room.  Growing pains.  I remember getting these regularly all through my childhood. I remember the aching the tightness, and the pain that just would not go away.  I remember waking my mom up in the wee hours of the morning, cuddling up on the couch with her while she rubbed my sore legs.  I remember feeling so loved and cared for.  Last night I stayed up for a long time rubbing my boys tight, hurting legs.  He asked through quiet tears, "Mama, how come it hurts so much? Why do my muscles hurt to grow?" I don't know if it even is a growing thing.  It might be a mineral or electrolyte imbalance. I wish I knew a solution because I know just how he feels.  We heated up my rice bag and wrapped it around him.  I brought him to bed with me to cuddle.  He finally seemed to feel relief and looked exhausted.  I read while he fell asleep.  It was so nice to have him there, quiet and still.  Kaden is hardly ever quiet and still.  He didn't thrash around and tunnel through our covers.  He didn't kick and take over the bed.  He was still and quiet and I relished in those moments.  Poor little guy is probably going to have a lot of nights like this. 

pretty

I got a new lens for Christmas.  I still have to figure it out, but I am digging it.  The pictures look SO much better big.  I need to take the time to figure out how to change my blog. I want it plain. I want the pictures to be big.  I want to get rid of all the extra stuff.  I wish I wasn't lazy.  Anyone have any ideas?  I like things that are easy and quick.  Does that even exist?

love bug

It's no secret that this boy has a mind of his own.  He is probably exactly what they talk about when referring to 2-year-olds.  The sweetest, cutest, most fun people on earth, and the scariest.  He is a master temper-tantrum-thrower.  A master.  He knows how to get my blood pressure rising and my patience to nill almost instantly.  It's so frustrating for both of us.  He clearly knows exactly what he wants, and I clearly cannot figure it out.  I can only imagine how that must feel.  I wish I knew the solution. His physical therapist and I have discussed that it is probably his need for a little control, even subconsciously.  He's had so much done for him and to him and he needs to feel like he has a say in things.I feel like I have tried everything under the sun, but when it comes down to it, when he is mad about something he is going to scream it to the world.  I hope that it is just a normal 2-year-old phase and not indicative of his behaviour through life.

He is the sweetest, cuddliest boy.  He is happy a majority of the time.  He is talkative and animated. He is going through a mommy phase right now and does not want to be left anywhere, with anyone.  He just wants me.  He says "mommy hold you?" throughout the day and there is nothing I love more than a snuggle with him.  He doesn't like a crowd.  He had no interest in opening his Christmas presents in front of everyone.  He has no interest in being in the group.  He is his own little guy and I am figuring that out more and more all of the time.  I love that he is his own unique little person. It's so interesting having two completely different little people living here and constantly trying to figure out what works with each one.  It's a puzzle. 

Last night, when Matt and I were about to go to bed, I crept down the hall to check on the boys, like I always do. I slowly opened the door.  It only opened about a foot before it was stuck. I squeezed in and saw my sweet little boy, curled up by the door, a toy in each hand, fast asleep.  He was so adorable, sweet, and innocent.  I scooped him up and my heart was bursting with love.  He smelled so clean and fresh and I couldn't put him in his bed.  I carried him into our room and laid him down in our bed.  I smelled his hair and kissed his chubby cheeks over and over.  I held his soft little hands.  I cuddled with that boy all night and woke up to him climbing all over me.  I know I can't do this every night, but last night it was perfect.  He is perfect.

a rare and special bond

Kaden is absolutely in love with his Nana.  He has a special bond with her that I just can't describe.  It makes me so happy.  The boys get to spend the night with Nana and Papa sometimes. It's a special treat for them.  Every day that I am working and I take the boys to my mom, Kaden asks if he gets to spend the night.  If I say no, which I usually do, he says, "ahhh, Mama, I just really wish I could stay at Nana's house."  He gets so excited when he sees me packing his special blanky and "glowman" in his little suitcase.  It means he gets to go live with Nana and Papa for a few days, and what could be better than that? I think he would move there if given the chance.  Even my little Beckham, who hates having his routine disrupted, hates being separated from his mama, and isn't the most social little guy, absolutely loves being at Nana and Papa's house.

I love that when I am working and the boys are with my mom they are having fun.  They are going on hikes, throwing rocks in the water, taking bubble baths, reading stories, planting flowers, watering grass, going on wagon rides, making snow angels, and that they are being loved and cared for, just as I would love and care for them--and maybe even better.  They feel safe and that puts my heart at ease.  I would love to be able to quit working tomorrow, to be able to stay home with my kids until they are older, but that isn't an option for me.  I feel so blessed and comfortable, knowing that they are in the next best place.  They are happy, cared for, loved, cuddled, and even scolded when needed.  They aren't suffering one bit.  In fact, I think that the time they spend with my mom, and dad too, is a huge blessing of our situation.  It is a blessing to my boys to learn from their Nana and Papa, and to have different experiences.  They get to grow up knowing them and creating memories with them. I know they will look back on these years as priceless.  I know it is helping to mold who they become later, all for the better.  It is a blessing for my parents too.  My mom is a saint and has those boys 3 days a week on most weeks.  She never complains even though sometimes I know she is tired or maybe wishes she could have a day to herself.  The bond my boys have with their Nana is something rare and very, very special, and I am so grateful.

rub-a-dub-dub

 Bath time is definitely a favorite around here.  It's a crazy splashing fiasco.  The laughter is equal to the tidal waves erupting from the tub.  The rascals must be forced out when the water is nearly cold.  Getting clean has never been so fun.

And let's just take a moment to recognize that this kid isn't little anymore.  Look at those muscles.  He's pretty proud of them, too. 

comb-overs and buddha-bellies are cool when you're two