It is a grey, steady rain sort of day, and my ambition matches. Not in a "I'm depressed and want to lay in bed all day" way, just able to be content with keeping kids alive and fed. My house, while not
clean, per se, is not Board of Health awful, so I can finally feel justified in sitting down at my computer.
It was Lincoln's birthday last weekend, and it was a golden, perfect sort of weekend. Evan and I splurged by calling in The Babysitter (who is evilly moving away to attend college this fall, sniff), and went out to eat together. It was lovely. The meal was delicious, and then, as we usually do on our wildly infrequent "date" nights, we gravitated to a bookstore. Then on to the mall to look for toys for an about-to-be-three boy. Of course, all toys were either A.) expensive B.) a dumb character tie-in or C.) ones we already own. We ended up buying nothing that night.
Evan put the garden in on Saturday. I wish I had thought to take a
before picture, because it was waist high weeds. Evan has been too busy
to do anything to it yet this summer, and the rich soil, plentiful rain
interspersed with hot days, made the weeds thrive. By the evening, Evan had subdued it to this stage...
As always, Evan had lots of "helpers". Although Cheyenne is on her way to be a real help.
They were all extremely "FILFY!", as Lincoln crowed, and baths were more than a routine need. (Another "filfy" moment happened in our bathroom that afternoon-- I walked in to find saturated hand towels, excess soap bubbles, spilled toothbrush mugs, general havoc. To my shocked, "Lincoln! What are you doing??", he looked up and said adoringly, "I pick you fowers!" Complete and total capitulation to the naughty little tyrant.)
A birthday boy with his adoring sister Sunday morning. Goofy boy wanted to close his eyes for every picture. He's a little obsessed with that little "computer" that all our kids have loved. I'm amazed at how well they have all learned their letters, thanks to playing on it. Well, that and the bazillion books they had read to them.
We went out to eat with some friends for Sunday lunch, and they surprised Lincoln with some Strawberry Cream Cake! He was delighted.
Then, the moment his older siblings had been dying for, and the moment Lincoln didn't know existed-- the opening of presents! (I don't remember the other kids being quite so ethereal about presents. I'm not sure if Lincoln's clueless about birthdays, or just very non-materialistic. Evan took him shopping Saturday, and Lincoln never asked for a thing, despite trolling up and down toy aisles.)
Reading one of his books from Grandma and Grandpa.
Rilla bringing in the next present, from Mommy and Daddy. A pool!
It was well-received.
Unpacking a box from Auntie! There were tractors...
His own personal box of Goldfish crackers, and (not pictured, due to a sense of delicacy) some Angry Birds big boy underwear. Oh, the excitement.
Cheyenne reading another one of his new books.
Awaiting the cake! I adore this picture.
And this happy one of singing kids.
Blowing...
And Rilla's hand already swiping in to lick the frosting off a candle.
Daddy cuts the cake, AFTER we removed dress shirts.
Watching Daddy intently.
My precious, precious baby.
I don't know if it was the adulation of his adoring family and friends on the occasion of his birthday, or some amazing caprice of fate, but Lincoln was absolutely perfect his entire birthday. No balking, or sulking, no hitting... it was a deliciously sweet day all around.
It is very bittersweet, this growing thing. I was reading one of my favorite blogs today, Orangette, and on her post,
June 4th, about her baby daughter, I saw this comment somebody had made:
Jen DK: "Molly, she is just adorable, and I love how happy you sound. Speaking as
a mom of teens, I can tell you that you will have these moments of pure
joy your whole parenting life...but the amount of *flesh* involved will
decrease exponentially. Revel in all the skin-to-skin contact with your
cherub! That's the part that doesn't last forever."
It perfectly described my mixed feelings about my kids growing older. I love learning what kind of people they will be, and watching their quick minds learn more and develop a better sense of humor, but I feel the clock ticking on the "flesh" years. Lincoln has an (admittedly rude) habit of putting both hands on my cheeks and turning my face toward him when I am talking to someone else and he wants my attention. I should do a better job of teaching him not to interrupt, but the feeling of those hands on my cheeks! Rilla slipped her hand in mine over the weekend, as we were walking through a parking lot, and I couldn't believe how small and sweet it was. Usually, to the stern "Hold Hands!" in the parking lot, she grabs her brother's hand, or the strap of my shopping bags, or the cart. It was so sweet to just
hold hands.
