Love Those Blue Eyes

This is what I see every time I turn on my iPod. It always makes me smile!

Luke, my sweet little boy, my only blue-eyed child, is such a gentle soul. AND....a very handsome missionary in the making! (Thanks for the suit hand-me-down, Lana!)

A Sunday Afternoon

A month or so ago, I looked at our cat and thought she must definitely be pregnant. Having experienced pregnancy a time or two myself, I was much nicer to the cat than usual. By this, I mean I actually took notice of the fact that she might be hungry or thirsty. (Usually I figure she's a big cat and can fend for herself. Her job is, after all, to catch mice.)

But then, a couple of weeks ago, I looked at the cat and thought I must have been imagining things. She didn't look pregnant at all. The thought did cross my mind that she might have had her kittens and I hadn't noticed. But as I had seen no sign of new kittens anywhere, I quickly dismissed the thought.

Saturday night I was on a date with Brek when we received a phone call from the kids informing us that we were now the proud new owners of baby kittens. Looks like I was right....and then wrong....oh, I am so not a cat person!

"How many?" we asked.

They didn't know. They could only see one, maybe two. Phewshhh!

But Sunday afternoon brought about a new revelation. We had not one, not two, but SIX baby kittens! And they aren't exactly "new" anymore. Their eyes are open and they are romping around.

The new kitties entertained my children for many hours on Sunday afternoon. First there was a photo shoot (I think it is so funny that my kids want to pose with the cats!) Then they began creating beds and houses for the kittens. Because, you see, one soft bed wasn't good enough. Each kitten needed their own separate "wing". And, of course, there was time spent trying to name each kitten. (I'm not sure what was decided upon.)

So....while I am definitely wishing I didn't have to find new homes for SIX cats, I appreciate them for entertaining my kids for an entire afternoon. And, I must admit, they are pretty cute.

If only they could stay little forever. (Sigh)

An Independent Boy

Ben is a do-it-yourself kind of kid.

Don't try helping him put his shoes on. You'll just get your hands slapped away, and hear, "No! I do it myself!"

This is a phrase that I hear often....VERY often. Like when I try to help him put his shirt on. He bats my hands away and says, "I do it myself!" And when he gets stuck with his shirt halfway on/halfway off and cries out in frustration, I try to help (after all, he did give it a valiant effort). But once again I get the, "No! I do it myself!" And guess what? He actually does it....all by himself.

Sometimes the shoes are on the wrong feet, sometimes the shirt (or pants, or underwear) is on backwards, but he did it all by himself.

He wants to pour the milk on his cereal. "No, I do it, " he says. He wants to cut his own meat or cut his own pancakes or wipe his own nose or buckle his own seat belt. "No, I do it." He wants to say every prayer that is said in our house, and when someone else is chosen he exclaims, "No, I do it FIRST!"

But I've got to hand it to little Mr. Independent. For the first time in my many years of motherhood, I have a child who went from diapers to underwear "all by himself". Yes, it's true. One day he decided the toilet was the way to go, and began frequenting it throughout the day. I started asking him if he wanted to wear underwear. For the first few days he said no, but then one day he said, "I a big boy. I wear underwears." And that was that!