I Guess They All Really Do Grow Up

This morning I sent Elliot and Avery off to school. Today is Elliot's first day of high school and it is Avery's first day of middle school. They were both very excited! While eating his breakfast, Avery could not stop talking:

This is a big day for me, Mom. I am taking a big step, probably the biggest step of my life . . .

Then after a couple of bites of his Captain Crunch cereal 

(Don't judge me: it was on sale at Costco for $4 . . . $4!!)

In fact, I think this is the first big step I have taken in my life!

Really? Preschool, kindergarten  . . . none of those were big?

Nope. This is it. This is The Big Step. It's the first time I will be the only Webster in a school. I am going to be all alone, and it is going to be awesome.

As he paced around the room waiting for me to tell him it was time to catch the bus, I could tell he was excited . . . nervous, but excited.

How do  you use a lock, mom?

How much homework will I have?

Is Mr. Dumont strict?

Will he only talk french even on the first day?

and so and so on.

I love that Avery still needs me, or at least he still thinks he does. When shopping for school clothes he wanted me by his side and asked my opinion on everything; meanwhile, the two teenagers couldn't get far enough away from me and would immediately roll their eyes if I made a suggestion.

Elliot has been seeking Zoe's counsel more and more lately, and he has barely addressed the issue of going to high school with me, until last night. As I was bringing up a load of laundry from the basement and passed by Elliot's bed, I stopped because I heard him chuckle:

It's so strange, mom. It feels like it was only yesterday that I was starting school and now I am going to high school.

And my heart broke. All I could picture was the little boy who barely reached the window in my classroom door, while standing on his tiptoes. My classroom was right across the hall from his kindergarten classroom, and my students would holler for me when they would see the top of his head pop up out of nowhere. I would groan and then go to the door - Yes, Elliot? Mom, we need to go. We need to go home right now.

Where did that little boy go? Elliot stands eye level to me now. He is snap-chatting with girls, going to bonfires with his friends and talking back to Mr. Level-Headed and I. He knows everything! He is filled with confidence, and he walks with a swagger . . . a swagger?! When did he start to swagger? Elliot always reminded me of Peter Pan; he was going to be the boy who never grew up.

I guess I was wrong.

Trust me, Bud, going to high school may feel strange to you, but it feels even stranger to me.

A Few Laughs

I am so grateful for the utterly ridiculous moments in our life because they break up the monotony of  my day: let the dog out, make a meal, wash the dishes, change a diaper, nurse the baby, let the dog in, teach a lesson, wash some laundry, mark a few lessons, let the dog out, make another meal, wash some more dishes, change another diaper, nurse the baby, dry some laundry . . . you get the picture. Luckily for me, spending my days with four kids and a dog means there are plenty of ridiculous moments, and I am still laughing about one that happened yesterday:

Leif was sleeping in his crib. Avery was downstairs playing Lego, Zoe was lying on the couch working on her math lesson, and Elliot was sitting at the kitchen table finishing up his grammar exercise for the day. I was standing at the kitchen counter, mixing up a new chicken recipe for supper. As I stared out the window, happy to see the sun shining and all the slushy puddles of ice melting in the driveway, I marveled at how quiet and peaceful the house was, and I thought to myself:

Wow! It is so peaceful. This has to be the best moment of the day.

Then all of a sudden, Elliot jumped out of his seat and screamed:

How is a man supposed to work in these conditions!

and he stormed off into his room.

. . .  what!?

Okay, so maybe you had to be here to truly appreciate the hilarity of the situation, or spend your days all by your lonesome with four kids and a dog, but for me, this was priceless and made my Monday just that much more tolerable.

Here are some other notable moments from the past few weeks:

Bowling:

(at first Leif found the lights and sounds too much)

But, then he decided it was all good.

Playing outside:

Waiting in the car for Elliot to finish up his gym class:

Potty training:

Singing a little Guns n' Roses:

Playing dress-up to the tune of "I Like Big Butts"

 and channeling our inner nerd and wearing sweater vests to church:

Yep, I really like our kind of monotony.

Progress?

Yesterday afternoon, I took Elliot to his soccer game up at the MCS field. He is playing soccer for the second year in a row for our local school, and he loves it! It gives him a chance to reconnect with all his school buddies and to play a game that he both adores and excels in. This year, MCS has a new gym teacher, Mr. McQuade, and Elliot is very fond of him. As I was seated in my lawn chair along the sidelines waiting for the game to start, Mr. McQuade came up to me and told me how much he enjoys having Elliot on the team.

He's a great kid, and man, can he play soccer! Has he ever gone to MCS before?

Yes, he has. We took him out at the end of grade four because . . . 

And then I told him all about Elliot's anxiety issues at school and how he was diagnosed with a Nonverbal Learning Disability (NLD). Being a teacher and having worked in a private school for children with special needs that prevented them from being successful in a public school setting, Mr. McQuade was quite familiar with our story. 

Well, he seems to be doing great!

And then he returned his attention to the team in order to get them warmed-up for the big game ahead.

As I sat there waiting for the other parents to join me, I could not help but ask myself:

Is he doing great? Have we made any progress?

Lately, it feels like my world has been revolving around getting Zoe back on her feet and preparing for Thing 4's imminent arrival (4 weeks and 5 days to be exact, but whose counting?). The boys and I have hit our stride with homeschooling this year, and I really feel that I have created a program that is helping Elliot develop intellectually. Also, with his involvement in our church's Young Men's group, his invitation to play on the sport teams at MCS and thanks to our new homeschool group, which has provided us with field trips to attend every two weeks and starting next Tuesday a weekly gym class with the students at Valley Christian Academy (how awesome is that!), I really feel that all of his physical and his social needs are being addressed as well; however, it has been awhile since I really looked at how well Elliot is doing emotionally and with an appointment with Dr. Murphy, the Developmental Pediatrician who diagnosed him a year and a half ago, coming up next week, I can't help but ask myself:

How is Elliot really doing?

In all honesty, I don't know. Sure, I see definite improvements in his ability to sleep at  night, to cope with the start of a new day, and to handle new situations, but I don't know if I have done enough, or anything for that matter, to address his anxiety caused by being unable to process the highly nonverbal world we live in.

Take this week for example. On Monday, he had a soccer game in Sussex. My friend drove him because Zoe was starting a new treatment that day and I did not want to be too far away. Also, I had to get groceries and attend a homeschool meeting that evening. As it turned out, I did not get home until almost ten o'clock that night. The next day, I had a doctor's appointment and a couple of errands to run. The boys and I finished up school in the morning and then I left them with Zoe for the afternoon. That night I could tell something was bothering Elliot. 

What's up, Bud? Why are you so anxious?

I don't know . . .

and then he went on to list a lengthy series of non-related issues.

My legs hurt. My bed is scratchy. How can I possibly sleep knowing Avery is in the room too (even though this is nothing new). I need my own room. What am I going to get for Christmas? Why is Zoe still up? When is dad coming home . . . 

and so on and so on.

Finally, after I had sent him back to his bed for the hundredth time, he crept out one last time, curled up beside me and asked:

Do you have anywhere to go tomorrow, mom?

Ahhhhh . . . and so the source of his anxiety revealed itself. Life had been too hectic lately and me, a constant in his life and probably a source of comfort and assurance (I really hope), had been missing from it.

Yes, Love. I will be home tomorrow.

And then he went to sleep.

Unfortunately, yesterday was a yet another hectic day for Elliot with school in the morning, another soccer game, and then Young Men's, where they played ultimate frisbee, but I was present and that seemed to make a difference. Even though he was definitely riled up when we got home and there were a few tears shed from being overstimulated, he quickly fell asleep after he asked:

Do we have to go anywhere tomorrow?

No where at all.

So, is Elliot doing great? I think he is doing well intellectually, physically, and socially. He is making giant leaps in reading and writing, he is healthy and active, he has plenty of opportunities to be with kids his own age and he is doing well to fit in with these kids, but emotionally, I don't feel we are where he needs to be yet to live a happy, fulfilling life. Negativity and anxiety still plague him, and in spite of all the books I have read on the issue, none have given me any concrete solutions, which really should not be surprising since mental health is probably the least understood area of the human experience and ironically, it is probably the most important.

For now, I guess, I just have to keep doing what I have been doing: creating a secure and loving home environment, trying to maintain a healthy balance between activities outside of the home and days spent quietly going about our daily routine within the home, praying for guidance each and every day (sometimes multiple times a day), and showing unconditional acceptance, patience and love to each member of our household. Hopefully, with all this and through seeking the assistance of professionals like Dr. Murphy, we will be able to equip Elliot with the tools he needs to face each day with optimism, courage, a sense of purpose and most importantly, a smile on his face . . . 

which to me is far more precious and worth far more than the entire world's weight in gold.

Gratitude

On Monday morning, I snuck out of the kitchen, while the boys were working on their math lesson, to clean up my room. Have I told you how amazing these two boys have been this week as we jump back into our homeschooling routine? It is nothing short of a miracle, but anyhoo . . . I was dusting off the top of my dresser, when all of a sudden I had this overwhelming feeling of gratitude overcome me, and I began to cry. Looking at all the pictures and the various crafts the kids have made me over the years that adorn the top of my dresser, I thought to myself:

I can't believe they are all mine. I have been given so much!

Zoe, my beautiful young woman, who inspires me and who makes me strive to do better each and every day. 

Elliot, my tender-hearted boy, who has taught me more than anyone else and who has made me the mom I am today.

Avery, my baby boy, who fills my life with smiles, joy and laughter.

And Thing 4, my bonus baby, who is a constant reminder to me that God lives, that He knows me, that He answers prayers, and that He loves me.

I am so truly blessed!

I wonder if these two kids could have ever imagined nineteen years ago, when this photo was taken, just how amazing their life together was going to turn out?

I can honestly say they had no clue, but they had hope, and they worked awfully hard to get to where they are today.

Thank you, Heavenly Father. Thank you.

Growing Pains

I can't be your little boy forever, Mom!

I never thought I would hear those eight words being uttered by Elliot. He has always been such a mama's boy and proud of it. Ever since he was born, he has been stuck to me like glue, and because of everything we have gone through together and all the challenges that still lie before him, I have always felt that we have a deep connection. That we need each other. He was going to be my boy who lived in the basement. My Peter Pan, who refuses to grow up. But, that is changing. Elliot is seeking out his independence. He wants to do more on his own and he wants space from his mama. I get it, and part of me is really proud of him for it, but there is a tiny, selfish part of me that really wishes he would stop growing up so gosh darn quickly.

Elliot was uber-excited to turn twelve because that meant he could legally stay home alone. He was almost counting down the days. Unfortunately though, at the same time that he turned twelve a few homes in our area were broken into it, while people were home! This terrified me, and I wouldn't leave any of my kids home alone, including Zoe. I have not been able to tell Elliot the real reason why our date nights have suddenly come to an abrupt halt or why the kids must go with me on every menial errand I run because he is already plagued with a million and one worries, and we don`t need this one added to the list. Whenever he protests that it is because I don't trust him, I assure him that this is not true and simply explain:

Elliot, I trust YOU. I just don't trust everyone else.

For the moment, this explanation seems to work, but he is not pleased with it.

So . . . . . . .

Last week, Zoe was babysitting for a friend of ours in the Rothesay area, but she also tutors another friend`s daughter in math two mornings a week. It just so happened that one of the days she had to babysit, she also had to tutor. We decided that the boys and I would go with her to her babysitting job, and we would take the little girl she was babysitting to the playground, while Zoe tutored up the road. Since this meant we were crossing the river and joining a much more civilized part of the world, where sidewalks exist and the speed limit is only 50 km (man, I love sidewalks!), the boys begged me to let them bring their bikes along. I love my home on the Peninsula! I love the beauty that surrounds us - the trees, the river, and all the birds that call my backyard their home. I love the fact that we own a huge lot and unlike our old home in Saint John, I don`t have five other homes looking into my backyard, but . . . the peninsula is not a child-biking friendly area. We live on a country highway, which means there really is no speed limit and the windy narrow roads are really not conducive to such speeds, but that does not seem to phase anyone. Top all of this off with the countless beer cans I find sprawled alongside the road everyday, I have decided that our road is not child-biking friendly.

Anyhoo . . . 

The boys took their bikes with us this particular day and rode them to the playground. They were so excited and I can`t blame them. I remember the exhilarating feeling of being a kid and riding your bike along the busy streets and biking out of sight from your mom. It`s your first taste of freedom and it is awesome!  After we finished up at the playground, . . . oh, I just have to mention that raising Thing 4 is going to be a piece of cake with these two big brothers. My boys LOVE little kids and they played hard at the playground with the little girl Zoe was babysitting. It warmed my heart to see them so gentle with her and so willing to entertain. So . . . . after we finished up at the playground, the boys begged me to let them ride their bikes back to Grammie`s. My initial reaction was to say no because my mother lives a fair distance away, but then I remembered that when I was twelve, just like Elliot, I would bike to my friend, Anne`s house, almost every day, who just happened to live a minute away from where the boys and I were now. Ugh! I hate parental dilemmas. I looked at Elliot who was giving me those pleading, puppy dog eyes that he has mastered so well, and I could not say no. Really, I had no reason to say no. If I could do it, he could do it too, and that`s when he said it, those eight little words that keep ringing in my ears:

I can`t be your little boy forever, Mom!

You are right, Elliot. Yes, you and Avery can bike to Grammies.

And so I let them go. Well, I let them go as much as I could. As soon as I walked back to where Zoe was babysitting, I hopped into my car and went on the search for my boys. I passed them walking their bikes up a steep hill, and I had to giggle. They looked so cute and so grown-up making the trek up the hill and talking the whole time. I decided to park my car on a side street further up the road to watch for them. After a couple of minutes I saw them bike past me. Elliot was yelling instructions to Avery behind him and they were zooming along. Then I decided to drive to a parking lot further along their route and wait for them there. Sure enough, after a few minutes, they sped past me, but this time I was spotted. They laughed and waved at me. Finally, I decided to let them do the rest of the journey on their own and I drove to my parent`s house. To see their faces when they victoriously turned onto my childhood road was so rewarding for me as a parent. They were ecstatic! They had accomplished a difficult task on their own, and they felt invincible. I am so glad that I did not listen to my inner Nervous Nelly because honestly, she can be a terrible bore sometimes. 

Way to go boys!

Parenting is so hard because it is one of those jobs where your whole purpose is to put yourself out of a job . . . tee hee! 

Have a great weekend!

Opening Night Jitters

Recently, a friend of mine, whose son is also on the Autistic Spectrum, told me that new research suggests that children with Autism are extremely sensitive. This is contrary to all the research done before which suggests that these kids remain detached and aloof to what is going on around them. According to the latest research, they believe that perhaps this perceived detachment is simply a defence mechanism, which prevents the child with Autism from becoming overwhelmed with the acute intensity of emotions they experience from certain circumstances. For me, I think this research is dead on! From the time he was born, we have always said that Elliot's greatest challenge is that he feels life too intensely. What may make us feel a little nervous, excited, happy or anxious, almost debilitates Elliot and makes life very challenging for him.

And this is why I think the past couple of weeks have been so rough on Elliot. You see, we started a new soccer season, which means a brand new team for Elliot. He has played with many of these kids before, but as we were figuring out from the sidelines last night, half of the kids are new to the team. Also, last year, during the last couple of games of the season with one particular team, there were quite a few aggressive outbursts from the parents of the opposing team. This really shook Elliot up at the time, but unfortunately, as I learnt last night when I was catching the tail end of one of Elliot's rants, he is still feeling anxious about them and was concerned that it could happen again.

As I mentioned yesterday, Mr. Level-Headed and I have been perplexed as to why Elliot has not been sleeping and why ordinary tasks like his school work have suddenly become insurmountable for him; however, yesterday, the light finally dawned and I realised it was the new soccer season. Our day started at 5:45 am when Elliot woke up, and he wasn't just awake, he was wired. As the day progressed, his hyper, over-the-top antics gave way to a very intense anger and then eventually to a very serious case of opening game jitters. By mid afternoon, Elliot was ranting about how he hated soccer and that it was the worst sport ever. I thought this was strange, but I ignored it and instructed Avery to do the same. Then, he finally began to confide in me that he was nervous. He was nervous that the kids would not play their positions. He was nervous that they would not score. He was nervous that he would let the team down, and he was nervous that the ref may not be able to control the parents. All of his worries started pouring out, and I all I could do was assure him that everything would work out for the best.

Then, Mr. Level-Headed came home early with a bunch of pool supplies. Honestly, this man may not realise it, but sometimes he is our knight in shining armour. Elliot was stomping around the house, frustrated and scared, and so Mr. Level-Headed told him to come outside and help him vacuum the pool. Physical labour really seems to bring Elliot out of his funks. When it was all done, in spite of the rain and the chilly temperature outside, Mr. Level-Headed and the boys hopped into the pool. When I looked down at them from the porch, I noticed that Elliot, in between chicken wars, would dive deep beneath the water and slowly swim his way across. There is something about the water cradling his entire body that enables him to reboot, and when they finally made their way back into the house for supper, I noticed that Elliot was relaxed and laughing. He was excited for the game, and he was confident that they would do their best. He was a like a completely different kid!

So, after supper we made our way to the field. It was damp and chilly, but I wouldn't have wanted to be anywhere else in the world because there on that field, I saw Elliot excel like I have never seen before. He was in his element. He played with confidence, with skill, and with leadership. I couldn't believe this was my boy! He had really stepped up to the challenge, and in the end, his team won 5-4 against a team that went undefeated last year. And even more exciting, Elliot scored THREE of those goals. A hat trick! I was so happy for him, and Avery, who is now an official member of Kingston's U12AA team and no longer a call up like he was last year, was vibrating with excitement. When we returned home, Avery's enthusiasm seemed to intensify as he bounced around the living room reliving moments in the game. Elliot, however, grabbed his nightly bowl of cereal, and then curled up on the chair and immediately fell asleep. His job was done. Everything worked out for the best, and finally, he was at peace.

Mr. Man would not stop for a victory photo.

This guy is always up for a photo op.

I enlisted Elliot's new buddy, Ethan, to help me get a  photo  of Elliot. There is nothing quite a like a healthy dose of peer pressure to keep this boy in line.

Way to go Kingston! As we were commenting along the sidelines last night, you all played a great game, and we were impressed with how well you all played together. I think this just may be our best team ever!

Happy Birthday, Mr. Man

On the weekend, we celebrated the birth of this dude:

He is so adorable! This is my favourite picture of Elliot because it sums up his entire babyhood: snuggled up close to his mama and entirely unimpressed with the world.  

I have been trying to figure out what I should write about Elliot for his birthday post, and it is hard because I feel like Elliot's story has already been told.We all know about his colicky babyhood, his dare-devil toddler antics, and his unique perspective on the world that makes him oh, so very hilarious and yet very insightful at times. So, I decided last night, in the wee hours of the morning, to simply profess my love to this guy and to celebrate the bright future I see before him.

Elliot, and I have a very special bond. Being such a difficult baby, a busy toddler, and a high-needs child, he has really forced me to stretch as a mother. He has taught me compassion, patience, and love. He has taught me to not sweat the small stuff, to be ready for anything, and most of all, he has taught me to love myself in spite of my faults. Like no other child, Elliot seems to have a way of drawing out my bad side, the impatient mama who is quick to yell and lose her cool, but like no other child, he simply accepts her and loves her. When I lose my cool, Elliot will often wrap his arms around me and ask if I need to take a break. When the other kids tease me because of my quick temper or all the times I make mistakes like forgetting to pack a lunch or to remind them about something important, Elliot is always the first to remind them that I am trying my best. I have only learnt compassion, patience, and love because this is how Elliot treats me. He doesn't expect anything from me. He just loves me for being his mama. Elliot truly is a remarkable person!

When we asked Elliot how he wanted to celebrate his birthday this year, he told us that he wanted one friend over to spend the night. We were shocked! Avery was disgusted.

But that means you will only get one present!

Elliot then explained that he only wanted one friend over because it would be less stressful for him. According to Elliot, having more than one friend over means you spend more time worrying if everyone is having fun or getting along than having fun yourself. Good point! And so on Friday night, Elliot's best buddy Isaac came over for a sleepover, and we took them to see Iron Man 3. They ate frozen pizzas and cupcakes and drank copious amounts of Kool-Aid. This was the easiest birthday party in history, and Elliot enjoyed every minute of it!

Some of Elliot's favourite things right now include:

-the Xbox

-Scout

-Nerf guns

-popcorn, popcorn, and more popcorn,

-a can of Coke, which his grammie keeps on hand at all times in the event that he may stop in for a visit

-pizza pops, again another treat found at both of his grandmothers and always kept well-stocked in the event of a visit

-the Hobbit movie

-playing army

-comic books

AND . . .

-his Ipod Touch, which enables him to "facetime" with friends

Elliot's future goals:

1. To serve a mission

2. To marry a girl who believes in God (his words)

3. To raise a family

How cute is that? Ever since he was little, Elliot has always talked about getting married and having kids. I love how simple and yet how meaningful each of these goals are. They say so much about Elliot. For being such a young guy, Elliot has a lot of faith and he has a strong testimony of God. Elliot also loves nothing more than the peace, security and love that can be found in a family. Elliot, I know how much each of these goals mean to you and I am confident that you will achieve each and every one of them.

(It is also interesting to compare Elliot's goals with those of his sister and brother. Zoe wants to become a doctor and marry a quarterback from BYU, a Latter Day Saint university in Utah, who will later go on to play for the New England Patriots.  Avery wants to become a professional soccer player, marry a supermodel, and move to Spain . . . tee hee!)

Elliot, I can't believe how grown up you have become. I love how much family means to you and how you insist upon all of us curling up to watch movies together (with popcorn) on a frequent basis. I love how kind you are to your friends and how enthusiastic you are when you play with your brother. I love your energy, your imagination, and your intensity! You are an amazing boy, and I am confident that you will become an even more amazing man when you grow up. Like I told your sister and brother on their birthdays, I didn't think it was ever possible, but I love you more today than the first day I laid eyes upon you.

Happy Birthday, Mr. Man!

 

The Poet

Last week, he was my philosopher, but this week he is my poet.

The boys and I have a fantastic cursive program that we work on together each day . . . gasp!  She teaches her boys cursive, that ancient and outdated form of writing that our school system has deemed useless?  Yes, that would be the one.  I really shouldn't take a jab at the school system because, in all honesty, I was there.  When I was teaching at Touchstone, the debate on cursive came up, and although I did teach it, I did doubt its benefits, and not because of any grand pedagogical reasoning, but simply on the basis that I felt I was already trying to squeeze too much in, and I fear that this is the reasoning behind our school board's decision too. They are trying to do too much with too little resources and too little time.
Now that I only have the needs of two pupils to look after, however, I feel very strongly that cursive needs to be taught.  For one, how are my boys if they ever grow up to become writers or English professors, be able to read the original manuscripts of the great authors?  If they become historians or archaeologists, how are they ever going to read ancient letters or documents?  When I am long gone, how are they going to read all my journal entries and be able to pass on my story to their grandchildren? Dismissing cursive is so near-sighted.  Yes, it may not be the way of the future, but it was the predominant communication method of the past, and what are we if can not access our past?  
The second and more practical reason I teach cursive is that it is easier for children to do than print and it eliminates reversals made with "b" and "d", which both of my boys are notorious for doing. From an OT perspective (occupational therapist) cursive is physically easier on your hands as well.  So, there you have it: Shenanigans Inc. comes out and takes a stand on the grand cursive debate.  We vote "Yea!"

Anyhoo . . .

So, the program we use is Handwriting Without Tears, and for Elliot's age, his cursive practise is centred upon grammar instruction and creative writing assignments.  I love this because we also have a grammar program  . . . gasp!  Another one of my pet peeves about the school system, but I will save that lengthy treatise for another day.  In short, Elliot gets a quick grammar review each day with his cursive lesson, and I think that is awesome!  This week, one of his cursive lessons discussed poetry and challenged him to write a haiku.  A haiku is an ancient Japanese form of poetry that is comprised of seventeen syllables, follows the pattern of 5, 7, 5, and does not rhyme. You can only imagine the initial distress this brought to Elliot and to me, his poor mama; however, after a bit of thinking time on the floor, he came up with an idea!  He poo-pooed on my suggestions of a winter day, swimming in the pool, or a day at the beach, and chose something he is more familiar with:  Halo  . . . gasp!  Yes, I am one of those terrible mamas who allows her boys to play violent video games.  Trust me, I held out for as long as I could, but they are relentless and I am weak. So embarrassing!

I was shocked at how well he did.  True, his format is more of a 4, 7, 5, which comes out at only 16 syllables, but Elliot found the form too restrictive, and rather than risk sacrificing the artistic integrity of his poem by randomly inserting another syllable, he took a stand and refused. Can you say temperamental artist?

Once again, without further adieu, I present Elliot's poem:

Halo!

Grunts get blown up,
Grenades go off at their feet.
Then they come after me.

Yep, this boy is proving to be more Skov-Nielsen everyday.

Happy Tuesday!

We Interrupt This Winter to Bring You Some Sunshine and Warm Temperatures!

Yesterday, after lunch, the boys and I pushed our school books aside and headed outdoors to enjoy the beautiful sunshine and spring-like temperatures.  March, you are such a tease!

First, the boys had to test out the trampoline to make sure the winter didn't damage it.

Next, we walked down to the river to check out the spring thaw.  It is so exciting to see pools of water where there was once only ice.  Oh, and the smells.  Standing on our favourite rock, I couldn't help but take in a deep breath and savour the the fresh, crisp smell of spring. Sometimes I wonder if I even breathe in the winter.

On our way back up the hill, the boys decided to check on the camp they had made in the woods last autumn.

The ground was so mucky!

They were ecstatic to find the teeter totter they had made was still working.  Country kids!

Being the beautiful afternoon that it was, none of us were ready to go in just yet so we grabbed Scout's leash and walked down the road to see what interesting things we could find.  Thanks to all the rain we had on Wednesday, all the nearby waterfalls were overflowing.  They were beautiful, and not to mention, noisy.  At one in particular, we couldn't hear each other talking over the sound of the rushing water.  Even though it was tremendously loud, it felt so peaceful.  Elliot and I didn't want to leave, but poor Avery was having a difficult time restraining Scout from chasing a couple of taunting chipmunks, and so after a little bit we decided to move on.

Our next stop was a local beach.  Since our beach was still pretty iced over, Scouty was unable to play in the water, which is his favourite pastime.  Luckily, this beach was open and he quickly got to work digging up rocks . . . tee hee!  He is such a funny dog.

He would have had a lot more fun if we had taken him off of his leash, but since there was still a few sheets of ice out there and this was right around the same time of year our previous dog, Sport, died after getting caught under the ice, the boys refused to listen to my pleas on Scout' behalf.   Nonetheless, he didn't seem to mind.  Scout is just happy being where ever there is water and his family.

Such a wise puppy.

Happy Friday!