Snow plow . . .

Just now I was driving home from a night of good company and comfort food (thanks Zion), and saw an entourage of flashing lights coming from the hospital parking lot. As I got closer, I realized it wasn't a group of emergency vehicles, but rather about a dozen snow plows and trucks clearing out the parking lot.
A large gravel truck topped full of snow pulled out in front of me, and I followed it for about a block. It pulled into a field where several more tractors were piling the snow into a miniature Mt. Fugi. (sledding anyone?)
Maybe it was the fact that I have had too much time to think without my kids to distract me, or maybe it was the creepy organ music I was listening to (what is it about organ music that makes it inherently creepy?), but the whole scenario caught me off gaurd. I mean, when I go to park in the morning, I take it for granted that the lot will be plowed. Quite frankly, I'd get a little grumpy if it were not. But I was sure feeling grateful that I wasn't the one spending her Sunday night working in the dark and cold (thanks again Zion).
So I guess this is my slightly romanticized thank you to all those who keep our streets and communities up and running.

Ashton pics, and my incredibly talented twin sister.

For those of you who don't know, I have a fraternal twin sister who lives just outside of Salt Lake. When I say "fraternal," I mean that in almost every way. Right now I am thinking about how she is crafty, serendipitous and an excellent entrepreneur. In the past year, she has worked as a "stamping it up" sales associate, created a blog for a local paper company, and opened a photo studio out of her back room. All this while raising twin toddlers of her own. (Yes, she deserves the "make us all feel crumby about how little we accomplish" award.)

Last week, my boys went to play at "Aunt Howy's House," and in a 5 minute oasis where only Ashton was awake, she took a couple beautiful portraits. Now, I could have made life easy and simply posted the portraits themselves, but then I realized that this was my opportunity to blatantly advertise for her. So instead, I included the link to her photography blog. Enjoy!

http://hollyhydephotography.blogspot.com/

SNOW!!! and other random pics

Last March Aukai and I bought some cross country skis, mostly as a way of preserving my sanity in the long winter months. In retrospect, I think he saw it as an investment in his safety.

Regardless of the intent, the result is fabulous! Instead of wanting to crawl into my closet when a storm comes, I can't wait for the snow; I felt like a school girl when I looked outside to see the 1 1/2 feet that dumped down last night. There is nothing like the serene beauty of the glistening trails that Zion and I hit this morning.

The view from our back door.

The boys borrowed matching Buzz Lightyear costumes for a friend's birthday party. They played the role very seriously.

Isaac has a good dose of my introspective distractibility. Only those who truly know me will have any idea what that means, but it may explain why the boy routine takes an hour and a half to finish his breakfast cereal.

Ashtonisms

1. Ashton is such a ham. Recently he has become enamored with his brother's age-appropriate obsession with super-heroes and guns. (Part of that deaing with vulnerability stage.) Ashton doesn't really understand what words like "shoot" and "kill" really mean, but he does understand that they make him feel cool and tough. In keeping with this, he has adopted a toy hockey stick as his "killer gun." Last night he insisted on sleeping with it, with the resultant conversation:

Ashton, eyebrows furrowed in the toughest voice he can muster: "Mom, I shoot de de reindeer." (We had just been singing "Rudolf the Red Nosed Reindeer".)
Me: "The reindeer? But how will Santa get around?"
Ashton: "Santa da de hit Isaac." (Ashton always has 2-4 fragmented "words" thrown into his sentences to make them seem longer.)
Me: "Oh, Ashton, no he didn't. Santa wants to bring you a toy for Christmas, and he needs his reindeer to get around."
Ashton, with a big smile and sheepish chuckle: "Oh.!?!"
*Translation: You should have said so sooner. Such a noble cause certainly deserves exemption from my violent tendencies, even if Santa did hit my brother.*

2. I have been toying with the idea of potty training Ashton. As part of this, I had him sit on the potty last night. He sat for a minute, began shaking himself, looked up at me in frustration, pointied to his penis and exclaimed, "It not working!?!"
This morning I thought we'd give it another try when we first woke up. He was avid that he didn't want to go potty reminding me in a less-than-polite way that "It not work!"
However, much to his delight he was able to go potty within the first minute of sitting on the potty. He looked at me, delighted, and exclaimed, "IT WORKS!" I can only imagine the relief he must feel, after watching his brother and daddy go potty, that his penis too "works."

Just a little warning . . .

I just got home from dropping Aukai and the kids off at the airport. Aukai's mom recently REbroke her ankle, so he is flying out to Oregon to help her while our kids enjoy 10 days of uninterrupted spoiling at my parents' house. I haven't spent more than a couple of nights away from my kids since Isaac was born, and it didn't help me hold back the tears when Isaac looked up at me and said "Mommy, I wish it was only for 2 days."

As I stepped back into my child-worn home and admired the latest magic-marker mural, I was left with a sense of emptiness, wondering what I was going to do without my family . . . and then a delightful cliche jumped into my head . . . "Anything I want to!"

So this is just a little warning that if you see crazy parties, outrageous outfits and a mild obsession for luxuries like trimmed cuticles, shaved legs and adequate sleep, don't fear. The mild-mannered mother you all know and love is still inside and will return, with her children, after the break. But until then . . . party on!