One of the last mornings in our first home

This morning we woke up to a massive thunderstorm, with an awesome crack of lightening and ominous boom of thunder shaking Taylor from her bed and causing her to scamper into our room and crawl up between Chris and I. And after snuggling into us, the sweet grunting pleas of our little man started echoing out of the nursery, begging us to free him from his crib. And then there were four of us curled up together. And then Ruby jumped up to make the quintet complete. And as we sat there and warped into one big ball of family love, watching the leaves and branches dancing in the rain out of our big window, I closed my eyes and took a mental snapshot. This is one of the last mornings in our first home.

So to say I’ve been riding an emotional rollercoaster the past few days would be a bit of an understatement. I am so excited to move into our new house. Let me repeat that:  I AM SO EXCITED TO MOVE INTO OUR NEW HOUSE! We close on Thursday afternoon, and hope to be sleeping there on Saturday night. But I just need to get in there. Because for the past week I’ve been cleaning out cabinets and closets and under sinks and above appliances, and have pulled out and dusted off enough memories to last a lifetime.

This past weekend I tackled the half-bathroom, and underneath the sink I found a paraffin spa, ten different head and back and foot massage tools and a dozen votive candles, all with two inches of dust on them. And I showed them to Chris and said, Hey! Remember before we had kids and I would light a bunch of candles and then give you hot-wax hand treatments and rub your back? And then he got all starry eyed and said, DON’T throw the massagers away. We might use them again... Right?!?! Ah. My husband, the dreamer. LOVE that man!

I’ve also been going through lots and lots of clothes that I’ve been holding onto forever. I had cleared out most of the maternity wear and loaned it out to Libba. And last night I found a big tub full of old pants and skirts that I stashed away after getting pregnant with Luke. I really don’t like my skinny clothes looking at me when I’m a heffer. So I decided to torture myself and tried on a bunch of small pants, and I’ve still got a little bit of work to do. But I did find an old worn pair of JCrew khakis that I got when I was a senior in high school, and THEY STILL FIT! They looked awful, and when I skipped down the stairs to show my husband the accomplishment, he took one look at the highwaisted, ankle length threads and laughed and said, You’re NOT keeping those, right? And I twirled around him and chirped, NOT the point. I FIT INTO THEM. Go put on your letter-jacket and let’s slowdance to Celine Dion.

And while it’s fun to find these hidden treasures, and equally rewarding to toss a bunch of junk I’ve been holding onto for the past nearly-nine years, it’s pretty much impossible to get any packing or cleaning done while the two little people in our family are awake. And it’s equally challenging for Chris to try to paint rooms and make wear and tear repairs with the kids following him. So our most productive hours take place during naps and after bedtime. Which means that while the kids are awake, it’s business as usual. And this morning was no exception, as after Chris got up and started getting ready for work, I showed Taylor a couple of treasures I found while cleaning out closets the night before:

And then Luke showed off his bed acrobatics:

We then moved into the nursery, and my little man continued to stress me out by flexing his climbing muscles:

Taylor declared it was a ballerina sorta day, especially since the storms foiled our pool plans:

And then we made our way downstairs to eat breakfast, which happens to be one of Luke’s favorite parts of the day:

Yep. All this fun before the clock struck eight. And since I had a couple cups of French Roast in my system already, I sat down to record it. And now I sit here and wonder what our morning routine will be like a week from now, as we make our way through strange rooms and start transforming this new house into our home. It’s an adventure we have been talking about for months, and now it’s almost here. And before this new chapter in our life begins, we must say Goodbye to this home. The place where we have been making memories for the past nearly-nine years. And it’s going to be very emotional. But we have many, many memories and milestones ahead of us, and a new, wonderful place to make them.

That's what little boys are made of

After Chris’s parents and brother came and left, Luke definitely missed the nonstop testosterone that had been surrounding him during the days with Greg and Ryan here. My son is turning into a BOY. Not a soft-skinned, cooing baby, but a real live boy. And he would rather be outside getting dirty than inside playing with toys. But it’s a million degrees out and we’re less than a month away from getting a good yard. So when we’re not at the pool or the gym or a playdate, we’re styling princess dolls and playing Candyland inside. Sorry, Buddy. It’s HOT out.

But when Chris comes home, he can barely get one foot in the door before Luke runs at him and throws his hefty-baby body at him and starts laughing. YEA! Another BOY! Save me from these crazy women.

And it really warms my heart that Luke is having this love affair with his Dad. Because Taylor has definitely always reached for me and runs for Mama when she’s happy or upset. Always has. But Luke... Luke just wants Chris. And my sweet husband can’t get enough. In fact, the other night after dinner, Chris realized he needed to grab a few home improvement project supplies before the next day, and because the boy immediately started shrieking and reaching for his Dad at the threat of being left at home with Taylor and me for the second time that day, Chris took him with. And they had a blast. 

And not only is he good at picking out lumber, but Luke is having a blast being out in the garage while Chris is working on house stuff. I’m not saying he’s the best Helper, as most of Chris’s hammers and nails have ended up in the garbage can, but he is having the time of his life. They both are. The little guy just follows the big guy around, touching different things and babbling and swinging his arms in excitement. It’s male bonding. Sweaty, awesome male bonding.

And the other day, after spending a few hours outside together, Chris brought Luke inside and peeled the little guy’s shoes off and a funky smell radiated off of them. And then I grabbed my son and breathed in the sweaty, dirty smells of his hair and my heart broke a little bit... He smelled like a BOY. Not a sweet smelling infant, but a stinky little man. And even though that boy-smell isn’t nearly as intoxicating as the silky baby lotion scent he has after baths, it was still pretty lovely. Because it came off of him. 

Taylor's four year check-up

Yeah. So when I was a mother to just Taylor, all of her checkups would be on the exact date, or close to, of the corresponding age. And when she turned four this past April, I smacked myself on the forehead and called to make her appointment the day after her birthday, only to be informed that the soonest they could schedule her was July. Uh... Really? Because I kinda had a streak of being on-top-of-it going. And now it’s ruined. Mom-brain, y’all. You know what I’m talking about.

So. We finally get to July and we just had her big appointment. And leading into it, I was aware that I could just go ahead and have her receive Kindergarten shots during her four-year checkup. But I opted out of it. Because One, I’m in denial that she’s only one year away from real-school. And Two, For the past few months she’s been begging and pleading with me that she doesn’t get any shots when she goes to the doctor. Because all of the sudden she’s deathly afraid of shots? What? The kid sat totally enthused and not-scared through that wicked bear scene in Brave, but she’s crying at the idea of shots. Um... Okay. Whatever. We’ll deal with the tears next time. And Chris will be in charge of that checkup.

And let me just say how totally proud I was of my daughter during this doctor’s appointment. My tiny girl is growing up. Gone is the squishy baby who was attached to my hip and whose cheeks I would eat throughout the day. She is a real little lady. And right out of the shoots, she was asked to take a hearing test and an eye exam. Two things she had never done before, nor had I ever talked about with her. And the Princess jumped into that big chair, eyes all wide, and listened to the nurse explain that she was putting earphones on her, and she needed to raise her hand if she heard a beep. And before I could try to put that in Taylor-friendly terms and re-explain what she needed to do, the nurse put the headphones on her and they started. And there was this pang in my heart that she didn’t listen or didn’t understand what to do. A chest flutter. And then she started raising her hand. And she sat there, visibly thinking about what she was hearing, then she’d smile and raise her hand to confirm what she heard. My face had about the biggest smile ever on it. And my eyes twinkled. And I’m pretty sure I squealed, Good job, Honey! about a million times as we walked from the hearing room to our exam room.

But before we got into our room, she got measured and weighed. She grew three inches and gained six pounds since last year. Knocking her down to 90^th-percentile for weight, but holding her steady in the 95^th for height. She’s leaning out, y’all. The chubby cheeks and thunder thighs are almost gone! Oh, the TEARS!

And she also took an eye exam, where you stand pretty far away from a chart and cover one eye at a time. And I was just as stressed about this one as I was the hearing test. The super large one at the top was a sailboat, and we never talk or read about or see much of anything with sailboats on it. And I paced behind her and it took everything in my will power not to whisper, SAILBOAT! to her before she started. But then she covered one eye, and chirped Sail. Boat. at the nurse. And then recognized and called out every single one! Even the really smalls ones!

And, once again, I was so proud my chest swelled and I was gleaming. Or maybe it was just glistening with sweat. Because this whole time I was either holding the 27-pound boy or chasing him around the office. Jeez! My son has entered that Hard-to-take-in-public phase. Too heavy for the carrier, hates the stroller and just wants to walk around. And grab things.

So during the actual checkup with Dr Childers, I was either throwing objects at Luke across the room, or holding him in my lap with a kungfu grip. Yeah. Pretty easy to pay attention. Hence the fact I can’t remember her actual height and weight. These kids are sucking my brain out of my head!

And, as I suspected, Miss Taylor is totally healthy and pretty advanced for her age. She communicates like a real person, Read: Never. Stops. TALKING!, and she’s a smarty with math and problem solving. And she’s an amazing little artist. Look at this masterpiece I found in her art pile the other day:

As promised, NO shots. I kept my word, even after both the nurse and our doctor brought up getting a few that visit. NOPE! Not today, thank you. But she did have to get a finger prick, and her, Luke and I all smooshed onto the chair so I could hold her while they poked and siphoned out her blood. And they wanted to get a urine sample. Ha! Picture the three of us in a tiny bathroom, Taylor totally having stagefright, me crouched and ready to fill the cup and Luke unrolling the whole roll of toilet paper. Yeah... I lasted about ten minutes before throwing in the towel. You’ll get that after the shots next year while Dad’s chaperoning.  

And after receiving our complimentary stickers and sugar-free suckers, we got to the car and I opened the door and Taylor crawled over Luke’s seat right before I wrestled him into his harness. And she settled in her seat, and reached up and around and buckled her own seat belt. And then she grabbed a book and started reading. AH! My sweet little Taylor-tot is so grown up! That was too fast, my friends. Way too fast.   

A fabulous Fourth

We didn’t have any big plans leading into the Fourth of July holiday this year. With it being smack dab in the middle of the week, and as busy as we’ve been with company, the upcoming move and Chris with work, we were planning on keeping a low profile and just having fun as the four of us. And we pretty much did, other than spending three hot hours at our pool, which was boasting free snowcones and cotton candy for the kiddos. 

And after dinner that night, we spent some time outside lighting our sparklers and using our last bits of energy to remark upon how lucky we are to have the two best kids in the world.

And that’s all she wrote. Nothing fancy. No fantastic firework pictures to share. But it was a truly wonderful day.

Amys family reunion

It had been nearly a year since all of Chris’s family had been in the same place, so we were thrilled to be able to spend four fun-filled days together. Unfortunately because we’re all spread out across the country, our family time is focused on quality, not quantity. And this visit was the best one yet. 

Who knew a golf tournament could be so much fun?

The main reason Chris’s brother chose the dates of his visit to Asheville was to play in this year’s Member Guest Golf Tournament at our Country Club. It’s the celebrated golf event of the year, and always is filled with lots of wining and dining for the members, guests and wives. Which means I got to mooch in on all the fun. Hooray!

Thursday was the practice round followed by a player’s-only dinner. Friday was the first day of play, and that night we got a babysitter so we could all go on a trolley ride through Asheville that our friends put together. And because the guys were delayed on the course due to weather, the wives and other non-players got a head start on the party at the 19^th tee. But once everyone was ready, we boarded and cruised around and had an overall fun time.

On Saturday while the guys were playing their final matches, the kids and I drove to the airport to pick up Greg and Sue, who flew in to make the Amys family reunion complete. Grampy and Grandma were so excited to see their grandbabies, that they took them out for dinner and shopping while Chris, Ryan and I were able to get ready for the big party that night. Even though the guys didn’t win any money, we were ready to recoup our losses at the open bar. And we got really fancy about it too.

It was heck of a party, y’all. And between the updo, open bar and free babysitting, things got a bit out of control towards the end. What happens at Member Guest stays at Member Guest. Just trust me... A fun time was had by all.

Uncle Ryan comes to town

Ryan Amys doesn’t get to Asheville very often. But when he does, it’s a guaranteed good time. Yep. We very much wish that we could see Chris’s brother more than we do, but we are so proud of him and all he is accomplishing in Montana. He’s all grows up! And he’s a awesome teacher and all around amazing person. And he’s the only person in the whole wide world that can make my husband laugh so hard he has to take a knee and wipe tears from his eyes. Ah... Brothers. It’s pretty fantastic.

And guess who was the most excited for Uncle Ryan to get here?

Yeah. The Princess was pretty pumped to get her Godfather here. In fact, both her and I concocted a clever water-balloon welcome, of which she practiced her plan-of-attack with Chris for two days. Hey Uncle Ryan! It’s so nice to see you... KERSPLAT! Water balloon to the ankles! But apparently Target sells the strongest water balloons in the world, as most of our artillery ended up smacking him on the toe and then bouncing across the cul de sac. Geez! But she moved past it pretty quickly and became stuck to him like glue.

Luke, on the other hand, was a wee bit weary of the strange man in our house, and for the first 24 hours he would only look at Ryan with his peripherals while simultaneously giving Chris and I looks that said, GUYS! Seriously! Who’s that guy? Why’s he still here? 

But then we let Ryan in on the surefire way to get our son to like him:  Go at him with a high five. You see, Luke is a high five junkie, and will always slap your palm if you show it to him. Well... Unless he’s really peeved at you. When there’s a high five denial from the big guy, it’s a warning for you to take cover from the impending storm of plastic and wooden toys that will be aimed at your head. So. After a whole evening and next morning, Ryan’s high five was finally accepted by Luke the following afternoon, and all was right in the world.

And let me just say that Ryan Amys is the WORLDS BEST HOUSEGUEST. Best ever. In the whole world. Because he mows the lawn, plays with the kids, takes the dog out AND cooks you a steak dinner. And he lets me boss him around like a big sister. And he helps me monitor and swim with both kids at the pool. It was like a vacation!

And one day, because he and Taylor were thick as thieves, he offered to take her to a movie. It was a date!

I’ve never seen a grown man so nervous about getting the seatbelt so tight on a car seat. Precious cargo.

They went and saw Madagascar 3 in 3D. And apparently Ryan fed the Princess Skittles the entire time, and when he tried to talk she would stick her finger to her lips and say, SHHHH! Uncle Why-an! No tawking.

It was a great visit. And we were lucky to have Chris’s parents come into town for the last half of his stay. But that’s whole other post...