gone are these days

I've been looking through old picture files lately and I can hardly stand it.
My baby has gotten so big. I carry him on my hip and cuddle him with his blankets. But carrying and cuddling cannot stop time. He is changing from less of a toddler and into more of a big boy.
In fact, we have a chart of stickers plastered on our fridge that makes it official.


It turns out that stickers are very motivating for my little blondie. He shed his diapers and is now wearing big boy underwear. They look adorable on his little bottom gracing his still chubby thighs; one of his only baby traits left. And while I know I should be cheering and having a diaper burning celebration, I'm sad to say goodbye to those days. For the donning of big boy undies marks the end of yet another 'last'.

oh, August you've proved almost too much for me.



We've bid farewell to the crib. The start of something new is always exciting. Everyone in our family was excited to pick up this big boy bed and set it up for William. He and Henry snuggled right in throwing blankets and pillows on it and cuddling up even before I had time to dress it properly with sheets.

And Bert quickly found her place cozied up next to William wrapped in blankets with her head resting on a pillow.



With all of the excitement of yet another first, I can't help but think of the utterly tear-jerking book 'Let Me Hold You Longer' again and how the precious lasts pass all too quickly. Now another marker of William's big boyhood is firmly in place. His crib sleeping days are behind us. Time is marching on the way it does and his squishy thighs and dimpled hands are some of the only things that remain of his babyhood. I am proud of the sweet little boy he is and look forward to all that he will become. But I can't help but want to hang on to those lasts just a bit more. So I will continue to tote him on my hip as long as he will let me and snuggle him with his blankies on the couch. I know time is marching on and these sweet days of carrying and snuggling and still sometimes rocking to sleep are a precious few.

poolside party

If there is one homeowners wish I could have granted it would be the installation of a backyard pool. An in-ground pool surrounded by plush, chaise style lounge chairs and tables with bright red umbrellas. A shallow end and a deep with a diving board, for me to practice my cannon balls. The pool boy in a Speedo serving pina coladas is optional. {Sweetie, I'm kidding. That would be you of course!}

I've always dreamed of lounging and playing with my boys in our very own backyard pool and of having pool parties in the summer, inviting friends over and staying up late to swim in the moonlight. But for now, that's a dream and a field of soy beans is my backyard. So we decided to have a pool party at the Farmer City swimming pool instead to celebrate Henry's birthday with his friends.

I have to give Erica all of the credit for this idea. When I told her we were thinking about renting the Farmer City pool for Henry's birthday party, she suggested a popsicle party; serving popsicles and juice boxes in lieu of cakes and cupcakes. I immediately loved it and decided to keep things simple and totally summer-evening-at-the-pool relaxed.



And so at 6:00 in the evening on Friday, August 6, the pool was all ours; shallow end and deep, chaise lounge chairs and diving board, lifeguards and all. It was the closest thing to having our own backyard pool bash and I, for one, loved every minute.






















The parents sat in chairs and ate Dilly Bars and talked about our plans to enjoy these last sweet days of summer while we watched the boys jump and dive and cannon ball into the deep end. My boys took their first daring jumps off the diving board and kicked and splashed around in the kiddie pool. Popsicle juice dripped from little chins, rootbeer bottles clinked, and Henry opened his gifts. The night ended with a few last jumps and dives and swims while the sun set behind us.

It wasn't our own backyard pool, but it definitely was the next best thing.

the fair

There's something about August. There is this urgency to drink in the rest of all that summer has to offer. To suck the last bits of juiciness from these sweet summer months before they slip into the rhythms of fall and school and schedules and cooler weather.

In August the fair comes to McLean County. It comes in droves; in flocks of sheep and herds of cattle, in semi's full of disassembled carnival rides and big trailers promising the world's best funnel cake. It comes as a bright and noisy reminder that the days of summer are still alive and well.

And so the first week of August, when the fair rolled into town in all its glory, we went. The boys were captivated by it.

The barrage of sights and smells; the deep fried goodness of funnel cake wafting through the night air and the shrieks of children on the rides. The thundering engines and thick gray exhaust smoke rising from behind the gates at the tractor pull. The bleating of the sheep as they are sheared and prepared for their big show the next morning.

We got there after dinner, just as the heat of the afternoon gave way to the cool of the evening. And we stayed,

And somewhere in between the sheared sheep huddled in their stalls and the irritable carni crew, I found myself thinking that if I could freeze this night and these moments, that life couldn't get much better than this.




Than these two boys, happy wearing a cheesy plastic fair wristband and holding their mama's hand.

And staying out late because it's a lovely night and the air doesn't feel thick and sticky, but lighter and cool.

And watching my very little take his first daring ride on the Dragon Wagon and cracking up as it whizzes by us again and he is but a blond blur.

And squeezing Patrick's hand because our boys are way up there in car number 2 and I want to make sure he thinks they're going to be ok.

And hearing the laughs of these two sweet ones as they speed past us on this ride for the sixth time in a row.

We ended this perfect summer night with potty breaks and milkshakes at Steak-n-Shake. Sipping that chocolate shake and watching my boys drift off to sleep in the van on the way home, I had the same feeling of contentedness. There will be much more to our lives than the old county fair, but I'm grateful for the way something so silly and simple reminds me that it's simple things that truly make my life with my family grand and beautiful.