A Thousand Planets

Two.

noreply@blogger.com (Cristy) — Wed, 19 Feb 2014 01:02:00 +0000

731 days of laughter, of challenges, of pure joy.

Today marks two full years since you took your place within our family. There are days when I find that little fact completely incomprehensible. But the proof is there…and it’s undeniable. It’s in the too snug 2T clothing that I washed and packed neatly into a storage bin last weekend. It’s in the plush toys that have slowly been cast aside in favor of matchbox cars and Duplos. It’s in the size 5 diapers, the overly dramatic tantrums and the 3,000+ photos of you that are stored haphazardly on my laptop. The proof is in the not so faint laugh lines that have taken up residence around my eyes and the hair appointments that are no longer optional.

I am subtly reminded, even on the most trying days, of just how quickly you are growing. You have thoughts, ideas and very strong opinions that are all your own. You bring us an incredible amount of joy. And? You challenge us. Both as parents and as sleep deprived human beings. The little guy who used to snooze 8+ hours a night has been replaced by an impressively loud two year old who would much rather spend the wee hours of the morning being snuggled or catching up on episodes of Mickey Mouse Club House than actually sleeping. We give in to your pleads to “NUGGLE AWHILE!” all too often, but we’re catching on to you, kiddo.

You work hard to keep up with your brother. You run as quickly as your little legs will allow in order to ensure you’re not left out. If he hits, you hit. If he screams, you scream. And if Tyler is willing to test his fate by leaping down three steps, you’re not afraid to take on four. Donning your batman pajamas and matching cape of course.

In addition to having a best friend in your big brother, you’ve also maintained a unique little friendship with the cat. You terrorize him like it’s your job and it’s not uncommon to catch you pulling him across the floor by his tail. His disapproving screeches are met with “Oh, you’re fine, Har Har.” Yet? He never retaliates; I think he knows that doing so would put his Saturday morning waffles in jeopardy.

You are smart, you are witty and you are unpredictable. My daily kiss and “Hi Matty!” is likely to be met with outstretched arms and a toothy grin. It is just as likely to be met with a tiny little palm and a “You stop it. You stop it right now.” And I hate to say it but (gasp) you’re a little bit bossy. Between the morning reminders you give to your daddy to “Kiss my mom” and your evening reminders you give to our family to “Say your prayers,” I would say that you keep us all in check!

You love snacks and treats and essentially anything with zero nutritional content. On the bright side, you also love to brush your teeth. Additional current loves include your green froggy boots, playing outside, bath time and reading as many books as you can get your little hands on. You’re a big fan of dumping out entire bins of toys but if I sing the clean up song, you’ll gladly help put them back.

You still suck your thumb. In fact, the left one has a small raw patch from the constant attention it receives. And when you enter a room, you’re beloved blue blankie is never far behind. Perhaps they’re both bad habits, admittedly ones that will be hard to break. But to me? I’ll take it as reassurance that you’re still little.

There isn’t a day that goes by where I don’t learn something new about you. A word, an expression, a goofy quirk. You have brought an immense amount of light into our lives.

And for the last 731 days, I am forever grateful.

Happy Birthday, sweet boy. We love you beyond measure.

for the love of waffles

noreply@blogger.com (Cristy) — Sat, 25 Jan 2014 21:09:00 +0000

Brothers

noreply@blogger.com (Cristy) — Tue, 14 Jan 2014 03:34:00 +0000

Tonight, after tiny teeth were brushed and a stack of stories read, I looked at the boys and announced "bedtime!" Without hesitation, Matty ran into Tyler's room, jumped into his bed and declared "I sleep in this bed." I cautiously agreed before reminding them that Matty would be back in his crib if I heard any chatting.

A few minutes later, I hear a little voice..."I love you," followed by silence.

And again, "I love you."

No response.

And just in case he didn't hear the first two times, " I love you Ty."

"Shhh...I love you too Matty."

Early Morning Lessons

noreply@blogger.com (Cristy) — Thu, 19 Dec 2013 18:04:00 +0000

Several weeks ago we received a letter from Tyler’s teacher inviting us to his Kindergarten Christmas play. Accompanying the letter was a note informing us that Tyler had been cast as “The Real Santa,” amongst a flurry of other “Santa imposters.” His teacher kindly included some possible costume suggestions (ie red sweats, black shoes, Santa hat) as well as a note: PLEASE DON’T STRESS ABOUT COSTUMES.

In the weeks leading up to the play, Tyler diligently practiced his three songs and two very important lines. Ryan and I quizzed him daily and encouraged him to let us hear his best booming Santa impression. I picked up a Santa hat and a red shirt, knowing that he already had a pair of red pants that would work perfectly. We were all set.

Or so I thought.

Tyler woke up this morning, the day of the play, declaring that he did not want to be “The REAL Santa.”

Me: “Tyler, why don’t you want to be Santa? You’ve been practicing your lines and your songs and you’re all ready to go.”

Tyler: “Because my costume doesn’t look like Santa!”

Me: “What do you mean, we picked out exactly what your teacher suggested.”

Tyler: “Yeah, but I don’t look like the REAL Santa! All of the other Santa’s have beards and they look like Santa and I don’t. And I’m supposed to be the REAL Santa!” (insert flailing arms here.)

At this point, Ryan gives me the side eye and reminds me that we’ve had weeks to get his costume together.

Me: “I had no idea he needed a beard. The note said nothing about a beard!”

Tyler: “I’m just not even going to be in the play. I’ll just watch.”

Ryan: “Tyler, you are going to be a great Santa, the BEST Santa.”

Tyler: “No, ______ is going to be the best Santa. He has black shoes and a costume AND he has a beard!”

Me: “ Seriously? The note said: DON’T STRESS ABOUT COSTUMES. And it was in BOLD print. What does that kids over achieving mother do? For real. Apparently she has nothing else to do ALL.DAY.LONG.”

So…before 8AM even rolled around, I found myself at Walmart searching one unorganized shelf after the other for anything remotely resembling a beard. If you know me at all you understand the courage it took to even step inside the door of that godforsaken place. Complete act of desperation. And there were absolutely no Santa beards to be found. Lucky for me, I have a very accommodating husband who was willing to carve some time out of his day to make a trip to Party City. So our kid might not have the boots or the suit or the ridiculously oversized belt, but he’ll have a beard. Call it what you want but I’m going to call it success.

I learned an important lesson this morning. Ok, I learned THREE important lessons. One, there will always be parents who go above and beyond what is required and it is very unlikely that said parent will ever be me. At some point, if for nothing else but my own sanity, I am going to have to come to terms with this fun little fact. Two, it’s absolutely impossible to be an attentive wife, doting mother, full time employee AND ensure that your kid has a costume for the school play, properly fitting apparel for pajama day and a healthy snack to share for the class party. And three, it’s probably a good idea if I refrain from judging how mothers ~~who cannot follow simple attire suggestions~~ spend their time as I’m now sitting here sincerely hoping that the words “What does your mom DO all day?” do not come out of the REAL Santa’s mouth today.

Parenting is tough work, my friends.

A Black Friday to Remember

noreply@blogger.com (Cristy) — Tue, 03 Dec 2013 22:07:00 +0000

I am not one to participate in Black Friday. Rifling through advertisements, waking up at the crack of dawn and fighting for a parking spot within 9 miles of a store, only to pray to God that some crazed lady doesn't run you down in an effort to save 3 bucks on a set of Pyrex? No thanks, not my cup of tea. I did brave the cold, crowds and crazies once though, several years ago. And for what it's worth, I did score the last $36 train table. But I also got in a car accident and watched a man punch another man right in the face for cutting in line at Toys 'R Us. I wouldn't exactly call that a win.

This year I spent Black Friday with the boys. And I couldn't imagine a better deal than that. Tyler and I got up early and finished coloring a picture of a turkey for a local post Thanksgiving coloring contest. Ty had a very specific vision of what this turkey should look like and I was allowed to help bring the vision to reality but in no way was I allowed to deviate from the plan. The turkey turned out to be a very colorful little fella. And we're both convinced he's going to win ~~(although if that's going to happen I better get the envelope into the mailbox.)~~

Next we headed to the basement and dug out the holiday decorations from under the stairs. We set up the Christmas village and for the first time I didn't have to convince Tyler how cool it was (hello, tiny houses!) He was beyond excited.

Even Matty picked out his favorite figurine, one of a man and woman hugging. He handed it to me and said "nuggle (snuggle) awhile?" That's a common phrase in this house. One that used to fool us into letting him stay up just a little while longer...but we're catching on. Slowly.

After decorating the tree and wrapping the banisters with garland (which I took zero photos of because I was too busy trying to prevent Matty from pulling every ornament back off said tree), Tyler and I took a break for a game of Sorry.

He kicked my butt, and it had nothing to do with my lack of effort. He legitimately beat me.

After lunch in our pajamas and some matchbox car racing, we decided it was the perfect afternoon for a little Christmas cookie baking...

And decorating...

And stealing.

Every time I turned around I caught Matty with one chubby little hand in the freezer (where the cookies were supposed to be cooling) and the other desperately trying to shove an entire bedazzled Christmas tree into his mouth.

We finished the night with snuggles, full bellies and classic Charlie Brown Christmas flick. Perfection.

xoxo.

Fall Came....and went.

noreply@blogger.com (Cristy) — Sat, 09 Nov 2013 20:52:00 +0000

Fall is my favorite season, hands down. And with Minnesota's unpredictable weather, you can never be too sure how long it's going to stick around. Ryan and I typically pack as many fall themed outings into the months of September and October as we possibly can. A pumpkin patch, a corn maze, a haunted house or two. I'm not quite sure what happened this year (life, maybe?) but we just didn't get as many things checked off our fall bucket list as usual.

We did however squeeze in a trip to our favorite pumpkin patch (6 weeks ago!). It's only a few miles from our house and it's run by a large family. Something about hundreds of pumpkins, free hay rides and the fact that they rely on the honor system when purchasing your goodies is just really neat.

Behind the Photo

noreply@blogger.com (Cristy) — Tue, 01 Oct 2013 21:33:00 +0000

This year I booked dozens of photo shoots, met many wonderful parents and took hundreds of photographs of their smiley {or not so smiley} children. Nearly every single one of those sessions began the same; with a sweet Mom who had clearly invested a decent amount of time and energy ensuring that faces were clean, outfits were coordinated and the shoot was not scheduled smack in the middle of Game Day Sunday. And while I most certainly admired the effort, more often than not, those sessions ended the same. With Mom worrying that a redo was definitely in order.

I never scheduled a single redo {newborns not included!}

Because, here's the thing, "when it comes to kids and photographs, you never know what you're going to get." I hear it all the time. From parents, from friends and from fellow photographers. And sure, there is a bit of truth to that. You don't know if little Jack is going to pull through with that grin you practiced the entire car ride over or if sweet Ainsley is going to decide that her carefully chosen princess dress is the perfect attire for bug catching and puddle jumping. But you do know what you're going to get.

You're going to get goofy grins.

You're going to get grumpy scowls.

And you may even get a tantrum or two.

You're going to get dirty hands.

You're going to get wrinkled shirts.

You're going to get imperfect.

You're going to get real.

And maybe it's just me but aren't those the best kind of photographs anyways?

So in the coming months, as your newsfeed becomes inundated with smiling faces and your mailbox fills with Christmas cards of families who appear as if they stepped straight out of a LandsEnd catalog, remind yourself that there is always an "imperfect" photo {or 10} that preceded that shot.

And those photos? They might look a lot like skinned knees, squished caterpillars, tear-stained cheeks and husband's who proclaim that family photo day is indeed the "worst.day.ever," but don't discard them.

Print them. Frame them. Love them.

They are after all the ones that tell the real story.

Your story.

**If you're in the Minneapolis area and looking for a photographer, check out Elyse Rethlake Photography. Not only is Elyse insanely talented, but she has a serious knack for catching the beauty of everyday.

Three Years

noreply@blogger.com (Cristy) — Thu, 26 Sep 2013 01:01:00 +0000

I will trust you and honor you,
I will laugh with you and cry with you,
I will love you faithfully,
Through the best and the worst,
The difficult and the easy,
I will always be there whatever may come.
As I have given you my hand to hold
So I give you my life to keep
For where you go, I will go and where you stay I will stay.

Three years ago today, I made the best decision I’ve ever made. I married my best friend. The one thousand ninety-five days since have been filled with plenty of ups, numerous downs and lots of days in between. Not every day is perfect, in fact, very few are. But there is nobody I would rather be spending my imperfect days with than this guy.

Kindergarten

noreply@blogger.com (Cristy) — Sun, 15 Sep 2013 04:04:00 +0000

Sunset Wagon Rides

noreply@blogger.com (Cristy) — Tue, 13 Aug 2013 04:19:00 +0000

Happy Birthday, Husband!

noreply@blogger.com (Cristy) — Sat, 27 Jul 2013 14:13:00 +0000

Today is a big day around here. Ryan is 30. Yep, THIRTY. It’s kind of a big deal. You can bet that I’ve been reminding him of how big of a deal it is for weeks.

“You’re going to be thirty in ___ days!”

“When you’re thirty, I’m pretty sure it’s no longer acceptable to shoot birds off our deck with an air gun.”

“Really Ryan? Did you just call me a ‘butthole?’ You’re going to be 30 in ___ days!”

These incessant reminders have been met with sideways glances and shoulder shrugs. Apparently when your days have been filled with work, bills, diapers and t-ball for the last 6 years, saying goodbye to your twenties isn’t such a milestone.

Despite his blasé mentality, there will be celebrating around here. Celebrating a guy who puts his family before all else and works ridiculously hard to ensure that our boys not only have the things that they need but those extra things that make childhood so sweet. We’ll be celebrating a guy who never forgets to pray before dinner, who reluctantly agrees to watch The Kardashians and whose goofy personality balances out his wife’s crazy type A personality perfectly. A guy who calls the family cat an idiot every.single.morning yet is still willing to maneuver himself underneath the stairway crawl space while simultaneously balancing his wife on his shoulders so she can attempt to rescue said cat from the ceiling in which he’s trapped himself. That wife and those kids? So very lucky.

Happy Birthday Ry- we couldn't love you more!

While we're celebrating that guy, we’ll also be celebrating Mario Brothers, Hooters {they DO have decent wings} and Plinko. Add to that, Reading Rainbow, Chicken McNuggets, Cabbage Patch Kids and the always amazing Sweet Valley High. Apparently 1983 was a big year!

Fourth of July Weekend {Day Two}

noreply@blogger.com (Cristy) — Fri, 12 Jul 2013 13:00:00 +0000

Day two started early and Matty was down for a nap by 9am. Ryan and I took advantage of the quiet time and sat on the beach drinking coffee and reading {yes, the planets aligned and this seriously happened}. Tyler alternated between playing in the sand and fishing. Once Matty awoke, we took a trip into Longville. We had stopped there on day one for a pizza and ice cream but made a quick exit {sans ice cream} after getting stuck in the middle of the parade crowd. It was insane. This tiny town with a population of less than 200 was bustling with people covered head to toe in red, white and blue.

We {as in Tyler and I} were determined that the return trip was going to include blueberry waffle cone ice cream, even if it meant standing in line for 35 minutes in 90 degree heat.

Totally worth it.

After a quick stop at the store we headed back to the lake to spend some time at where else? The beach. Honestly, it seemed to be the one place where Ryan and I could hang out and actually have half a conversation while the boys were completely entertained.

Matty noticed that Tyler had a "new" snack and he bolted for the water.

But quickly moved on when he realized Tyler left his flip flops unattended. Matty is obsessed with shoes and spent the better half of the weekend swiping abandoned ones from the shore. What, that lady left her shoes unattended for 6 seconds? They're free for the taking.

The remainder of the day was a bit of a repeat of day one. Fishing, fires and lots of marshmallows. Oh, and about a bajillion sparklers, thanks to Tyler!

Fourth of July Weekend {Day One}

noreply@blogger.com (Cristy) — Thu, 11 Jul 2013 16:22:00 +0000

I may be the very last person in blog-land to post a 4th of July re-cap. I guess that's how it goes when you have two kids, a desk that requires your occupancy 40 hours a week and a husband who travels like it's his job. Oh wait, it is his job.

We spent the 4th and several days after up at the lake with the boys, just the four of us. We celebrated with lots of swimming, fishing, s'mores and watching Matty like a hawk. There was nothing more that little guy wanted than to fling himself off the end of a dock or dive into an open fire. No fear in that kid.

A little photo recap...

Tyler did a lot of boat racing.

There's something about sandy little toes that I just love.

Matty did a lot of snacking on the beach {and on the dock, the deck and fireside}. Because if he wasn't snacking, he was running off on some new adventure that was sure to be dangerous.

And when it was time to leave the beach and head inside to eat some lunch? This is what Tyler looked like. Such mean parents we are forcing him to consume all those hotdogs, chips and juice boxes.

After lunch it was off to fish. Tyler was really into it this year. He baited hooks, reeled in fish and tossed his catch back into the lake, all on his own. He was pretty proud.

He had a pretty great fishing coach.

After the worms ran out exhaustion set in {for the parents, not the kids} we ended the day with a handful of sparklers and a couple of s'mores. I couldn't imagine a better way to celebrate.

Happy Birthday America!

Tippy Toes

noreply@blogger.com (Cristy) — Mon, 01 Jul 2013 13:17:00 +0000

Matty has a way of keeping us on our toes around here. And lately? We’re teetering on our tippy toes. I’m going to go ahead and ~~attempt to convince myself~~ argue that Ryan and I still have this parenting thing under control, but this second child of ours? In addition to being undeniably sweet and absolutely adorable…

He’s mischievous. A sandbox on the deck sounded like a really great idea back in February. Think of all of the things I could get done while he happily built mountains and roads and castles in the sand! Then the snow melted, the top came off the box and reality set in. So far this summer, he’s dumped approximately 236 buckets of beach like sand onto the kitchen floor. And attempting to remove said sand from between the cracks of a faux wood floor? Not fun.
He’s brave. While Ryan was traveling for work and I was on single parent duty, Matty dove head first into a full tub of bathwater. Completely clothed. By this point in the day I was nothing short of exhausted. But I’ll admit, I laughed. Something about the look of shock on that bubble soaked face… I just couldn’t help it.
He’s determined. Some day that attribute is going to serve him well and get him somewhere wonderful, but on this particular day? His determination to get through the gate, down the stairs and out into the freedom of the front yard got him his first timeout and it got Ryan and I a giant hole in our living room drywall.
He’s quick. Like, super quick. On Father’s Day he swiped the sunscreen off the patio table so fast that he had a whole mouthful of the stuff before anyone could even think to stop him. Poison Control was dead on when they predicted he’d survive but likely suffer from a mild case of diarrhea before the day was done.
He’s inquisitive. Inquisitive as in, “hey I wonder how loud you’ll yell if I plunge my tiny little teeth into your hand and bite down for a full 30 seconds.” We’re working on this one. But if you have any tips? Please send them my way as just last week our daycare provider smiled and suggested a little “anger management” for the little guy.

I don’t like to admit defeat but at this rate, those future third baby negotiations? Almost laughable.

Oh, hello anxiety.

noreply@blogger.com (Cristy) — Wed, 26 Jun 2013 02:09:00 +0000

What's inducing anxiety these days?

My to-do list has somehow grown from a page or two to a full-fledged catalog. “15 month appointment for Matty” has been jotted down about seven times in the last two months, yet I still haven’t picked up the phone and made the appointment. Why? I have no idea. I sit a mere 6 inches from a telephone 8 hours a day, 5 days a week. I’m going to go ahead and argue that I have good intentions because, well, it’s on the list! But I get distracted. Easily.
You know who else gets distracted easily? Tyler. But that's an entire post in itself.
The never-ending to do list mentioned above? You can add to it: vaccination records for kindergarten, sign up for swimming lessons, schedule Matty’s baptism, pay a bill or two and feed my children something that doesn’t come in a cardboard box and require only water and/or “special seasonings.”
I had to cancel a newborn photo shoot on Sunday because I came down with some sickness and was convinced that I was on the verge of dying. Ok, maybe that’s a little dramatic, but I legitimately felt awful and there was no way I was going to spread my sickness to a brand spankin’ new human being. The anxiety comes in having to reschedule before the baby gets to the point where he suddenly wakes up and wants nothing to do with pom pom hats and being contorted into adorable little yoga poses.
I finally got around to registering the boys for the church nursery a few weeks ago and was feeling a little guilty that we still hadn’t made it to a single service despite the fact that we have no legitimate excuse {aka the children are loud and embarrassing in the house of worship and we have nobody to watch them.} That guilt was only magnified this morning when I received an email reminding parent volunteers that while the ministry understands that summer is busy, attendance remains high and children’s church depends on YOU and can only successfully operate with the aid of dependable parents who show up on their scheduled day. This was followed by a cheerful reminder that this Sunday is my scheduled day. I’m pretty sure that the email was sent in mass to all parents, but I honestly felt as if it should have begun with “Dear you made a commitment! Cristy.” No coincidence that I had just read this post. The church was undoubtedly pointing their avocado at me.
I have survived on nothing but peanut butter cups and gobstoppers for the last two days. Why? Because we have no groceries despite the fact that I receive a weekly meal plan to my inbox every Wednesday morning, which is conveniently accompanied by a detailed grocery list. The meals are delicious. But not delicious enough to motivate me to go to the grocery store.

Life.is.crazy.

Celebrating Six {part 2}!

noreply@blogger.com (Cristy) — Wed, 22 May 2013 15:23:00 +0000

A couple of months ago, Tyler and Ryan took a quick trip to Target and came home with a new bike. We called it Tyler's birthday present but I knew that we'd have to come up with something for him to unwrap when his actual day of birth rolled around. I had no idea what to get him. Honestly, he's spoiled and he has everything. And the "everything" that he already has? It rarely gets played with. He'd much rather dig up worms and explore the neighborhood with his friends than play with actual toys.

The day before his birthday ~~because I'm a perpetual procrastinator~~, I set off to find a present. As I browsed the aisles of Target, I tossed an inflatable pool in the cart. I was pretty sure we didn't have one. At least not one that was 22 1/4 inches deep. As I made my way towards the checkout lane I became less sure. I called Ryan. He informed me that we already had a pool. And a slip n slide. And a half dozen water guns.

Great. Back to square one.

Just past the Lego aisle, I spotted a rocket. Like a legit "soars up to 1240 feet" model rocket. I carefully read the back of the box and determined what other "components" I needed to purchase in order to complete this awesome gift. I tossed the rocket in the cart along with a couple of "engine packs" and confidently made my way back towards the register. I checked out and $60 later, I texted Ryan to tell him about the gift.

Me: "I got him a rocket!"
Ryan: "Estes?"
I was very confused as to why my husband was speaking Spanish until I realized Estes was the brand of rocket.
Me: "Yeah...bad?"
Ryan: "No, they are fun. But he has one of those."

Fail.

Needless to say, the rocket was returned and we decided to let Tyler pick out his own gift. So after our trip to the park, we headed to Toys 'r Us where we wandered the aisles for 45 minutes before Tyler settled on a {very} overpriced RC car. Ryan and I banded together, pointing out how incredibly awesome {and way less expensive} the RC boats were. Ryan showed Tyler a couple of cool YouTube videos and RC boat it was.

Next stop? The Arcade.

And then we grabbed lunch and headed home to race the boat.

After a little boat racing {during which Ryan decided we needed to return this boat and order a faster one online} we checked out a very sketchy tree swing nearby...

And Tyler climbed some trees. Typical boy.

(No hands!)

We ended the day with chocolate cake {but no birthday wish because Tyler forgot.}

Happy 6 little man!

Celebrating Six! {part one}

noreply@blogger.com (Cristy) — Sun, 19 May 2013 14:35:00 +0000

Ryan and I both took the day off of work for Tyler's birthday. We got up early, dropped Matty off at daycare and headed to the bakery for a treat. Tyler devoured a cinnamon roll, I drank three cups of coffee and Ryan spent 30 minutes trying to solve some magician handcuff trick that the waitress challenged him with.

After the bakery we swung by a nearby park where I attempted to get a few "6 year" photos of Tyler. He wanted absolutely nothing to do with it. He was much more interested in the awesome tree house, which admittedly was really cool.

Ryan and I did manage to sneak in a few with our birthday boy.

And then we raced to the cute barn down the hill where I proceeded to beg Tyler to let me get "just a couple more shots." He obliged. For about 90 seconds.

And then? He was over it.

So we headed down to the water to explore.

Next stop? The toy store.

Six

noreply@blogger.com (Cristy) — Wed, 15 May 2013 13:00:00 +0000

On this very day, six short years ago, you took your first breath. And with that breath, you changed our lives forever.

Sweet Tyler, I cannot believe that six years have passed. Six years since your tiny 4 pound 15 ounce self flipped my world upside down and made me a mama. It is incredibly difficult to comprehend how my baby transformed into the creative, sassy effervescent boy before me..and so ridiculously fast. When you were small, we were repeatedly told to enjoy each and every moment with you because those moments would be gone before we knew it. And now? So many times I stop and wonder if I am doing just that. Am I slowing down enough to listen to your questions about God and street signs and the distance to the sun? Have I spent enough time playing catch with you and reading bedtime stories? Will I always remember the gold speckles in your eyes, the lone mole on your left cheek and the way you pick your blanket when you suck your thumb? I hope with all of my might that I do.

There are so many more things about your six year old self that I want to etch into my memory. Your love of books, bike rides and your baby brother. How much you love being outside. You could {and do} spend hours upon hours playing with your friends; running from house to house for snacks and juice and a fresh selection of toys. It’s no secret that you would choose being with them over Dad and I any day. Don’t worry, we moved past hurt feelings long ago.

What else? Your favorite food is grilled cheese, your favorite cartoon is Curious George and your favorite girl? Catie. You’re going to marry her. In ten weeks. Just enough time for her hair to grow a bit longer and to pick out the perfect dress. You love her. I know, because you told me {and I kind of assumed based on the fact that her name has been scrawled in green sharpie across our dryer, garage floor and every piece of artwork you bring home.} There will come a day when you don’t tell me these things. When you roll your eyes and brush me off. I dread those years.

Tyler, you’re smart. Like, wicked smart. You challenge us each and every day. You test the boundaries and you pepper our days with difficult questions. When I threaten to punish you {which happens!} you don’t cry. You don’t get angry and stomp off to your room. You look me square in the eye and ask what sort of punishment I plan to dole out. And then? You toss out ideas. You negotiate. You drive us mad.

One of my very favorite things about you is that you aren’t afraid to be you. You are loud. You are sweet. You are sensitive. You love soccer and t-ball and digging for worms. But in addition to those “boy” interests? You play house, wear pink and paint your nails. You see nothing wrong with those things and neither do we. But I know that someday there will be a kid who does. That kid will likely be four feet tall, steal your kickball at recess and make faces at you during circle time. I hope that I’m wrong. But if not? I pray that you won’t let that pipsqueak change you. I also pray that your dad and I are doing our job and that you’ll never be that kid. The one who fails to see the beauty in diversity. Because, you’re beginning to notice that not all kids are the same. Just yesterday you told me about a boy at t-ball, and then you scrunched up your face and said “he looks just like this!.” The face you made? It wasn’t cute. I tried to explain that everybody is different and it is those differences that make us special. And then I said a silent prayer that through my stuttering and stammering you were somehow able to comprehended the message I was attempting to convey.

I think you did…I told you, you’re smart.

Tyler Jay, your dad and I are so incredibly lucky to call you ours. We love you more than words can describe.

xoxo

Mexico

noreply@blogger.com (Cristy) — Fri, 03 May 2013 16:32:00 +0000

After no fewer than 67 billion snow days, I sat at my desk at work, staring at my computer screen and contemplating how the heck I was going to survive the remainder of the winter. I quickly decided that it just wasn't going to happen. I opened up outlook, typed "WE NEED A VACATION" and hit send.

Six weeks later, sans children, Ryan and I were on our way to spend 6 all inclusive nights in sunny Mexico. I was kind of excited. Excited for sun, sleep and most of all to spend some quality time with my favorite guy. I was SO excited I almost didn't even care that I crashed my car the night before and spent half the morning attempting to file an insurance claim over the sound of "attention travelers, now boarding flight..." while jotting notes on the back of a paper napkin.

After a few snacks, two magazines and a connection in the worst airport ever, we arrived. Paradise.

We spent the first couple of days by the pool, soaking up the sun and reveling in the silence that comes from leaving your children at home with Grandma.

Pay no attention to the low quality, grainy photos--I left my nice camera at home {laptop too!} with the intention of completely "un-plugging" and focusing on the cute guy below.

After a couple of days, a handful of fruity drinks and an excessive amount of food, we got it together and took a trip into town.

There is something to be said about uninterrupted time with your husband. A stroll along the beach without having to dole out snacks, reapply sunscreen, or wipe tantrum tears? Pretty incredible.

And the drinks weren't too bad either.

About three days in we watched as family after family checked into the resort with children in tow. Suddenly, we were surrounded by canon balls and giggling and the pitter patter of tiny feet on wet pavement. We talked about how much Tyler and Matty would love the resort and vowed to bring them along next year. Ryan started an "abduction list" that consisted of all of the kids he deemed worthy of taking home while I warned him that he was going to get us thrown in a sketchy Mexican prison. We missed our boys like crazy.

The following day we headed into town and took a van into the mountains to partake in a little zip lining. As we began suiting up I started getting nervous. And the more hills we climbed, the more nervous I got.

Usually in a situation like this, I'd try to calm my nerves by convincing myself that if it was really that dangerous, there would be some sort of law against it. But in Mexico? I'm pretty sure that's not the way it works. In an effort to be a fun wife I decided I better just suck it up and give it a shot. And I'm glad I did because we had a blast!

After we zipped all 11 lines {traditional, superman, upside down!}, we had a drink and took some time to walk around the grounds. It was gorgeous {the view and the drinks.}

We spent the next couple of days enjoying breakfast by the pool and sunset dinners by the ocean. We read books, chatted with Canadians and did our best to avoid a sunburn.

Before we knew it, it was time to say goodbye to the sun and sand and head home. 8 hours, a sprint through the worst airport ever and one lost bag later, we arrived.

Until next year Mexico.

Hello, Sunshine!

noreply@blogger.com (Cristy) — Sun, 28 Apr 2013 22:13:00 +0000

The weather took a turn for sunny on Friday. We spent all weekend outside and it was A-mazing.

Matty and I took a Saturday morning trip to the park while Tyler stayed home to play with the neighborhood kids.

After about a half hour {and a mouth full of wood chips} Matty toddled over to his stroller and yelled "Na-night Mama!" so we headed home.

A quick nap and we headed out to the deck for a snack and some sandbox playtime. It's fun to have a kid that wants to hang out with you all the time, being our other child is completely content spending 100% of his time with his buddies.

Anywhere Matty goes...Harley goes too.

On Sunday, Tyler finally decided he wanted to bless us with a few minutes of his presence {which may or may not have directly coincided with lunch time}

Couldn't have asked for better weather or better company. Love these boys {all three of them}.

Hiding Out

noreply@blogger.com (Cristy) — Mon, 22 Apr 2013 16:00:00 +0000

We live in Minnesota. The weather this "spring" has been nothing short of awful. I would like to think that after 28 years I have acquired some pretty decent cold weather coping mechanisms but lately it has been hard to remember that incessant whining doesn't make the snow melt faster or the sun shine brighter or the temperatures rise above 35. There are some days where I fear for the safety of the local weatherman {which may or may not have something to do with the fact that said weatherman sports a ridiculously unnatural tan while standing in two feet of snow and forecasting highs in the single digits.}

Minnesota nice is long gone.

This extended winter has been particularly difficult for the boys. They are getting squirrely and my "indoor fun" ideas are getting slim. Last Sunday, Tyler and I spent the morning combating the "spring is never coming" blues by building a fort. We started by hanging sheets from a clothesline type contraption that we tacked to the wall and tied to the banister but after envisioning the drywall being ripped down and my husband having a coronary I decided we better just stick with the tried and true kitchen table version.

We filled our fort with blankets and books and snacks. I grabbed a lantern from the basement and pillows from the bedroom and the boys and I snuggled in. This arrangement lasted approximately 6 minutes before Matty dumped a box of Wheat Thins onto Tyler's "spot" and the fun was immediately over. Tyler bolted and as soon as the crackers were gone, Matty did as well.

Ditched by my own kids. I was bummed for a split second before I realized the opportunity that had just been handed to me. A space, albeit small, that they refused to enter? I can’t even pee alone so this was unheard of. The fact that the floor was made of laminate and I was surrounded by snack remnants made absolutely zero difference to me. It was dark and relatively quiet and for a short time I got to pretend that there were no diapers to be changed or sippy cups to be filled. I sat there quietly unnoticed, watching as Matty struggled {and succeeded} to get on his toy car without the help of mom.

I watched as Tyler snatched the car and Matty moved on to bigger and better things {walking!}

I smiled as I snacked on stale crackers and watched Ryan wipe noses {he's a pretty darn good dad.}

But it wasn't long before I was spotted.

{The look of a man whose wife hides out in a tent all afternoon}

The thrill of the fort was over much too soon {although don't judge the time of day by our clothing because we never got out of our pajamas.}

The remainder of the afternoon looked a lot like this...

Everybody loves a good inside snow day. But by mid-April? It definitely loses its luster!

Matty: 14 months

noreply@blogger.com (Cristy) — Fri, 19 Apr 2013 21:07:00 +0000

"Geez, I didn't realize having a baby brother was going to be so much work!" Said the boy who hoped and prayed and wished on many, many pennies for a sibling.

Sweet, chunky little Matty. You have become a little more work, but with that comes a lot of fun. You are 14 months old and into everything. You're curious and on some days? One might even call you a bit mischievous. You follow your brother from room to room, no longer scooting across the floor but toddling, at an increasingly fast pace. When Tyler stacks his favorite books neatly on his bookshelf, you're right there behind him to pull them all back onto the floor. You eat his crayons and step on his artwork. You drink from his cups and devour his snacks. You wipe your constant runny nose on his beloved Green Blankie. Yet, despite all of that? He adores you. He holds your hand, smothers you with bear hugs, reads you stories from memory and insists on giving you a bedtime kiss each and every night.

Tyler is not alone; we all adore you. You are silly and sweet and {while we may be biased} we wouldn't hesitate for a second to say you're going to be incredibly smart. You can say mama, dada, no, naughty, bye bye, uh oh! and cat. If we suggest it's time for bed you are quick to exclaim "na-night!" toddling off in the direction of your bedroom where you immediately attempt to scale your crib. You love puzzles, your Lightning McQueen car and brushing your teeth. You turn anything and everything into a "phone."

But all that sweetness does not come without a challenge or two. You can throw some incredibly dramatic temper tantrums. It's not uncommon for you to fling your body backwards in anger, only to get more upset when you hit your head on the hardwood floor. You despise being strapped into your car seat and as soon as we pull the plug on the tub you are quick to squawk, snatch it back up and save the bathwater from draining.

You make us smile. You make us laugh. You make us shake our heads in exasperation. But mostly? You make us thankful for each and every day that we get to spend with you.

Love you to a thousand planets.

Spring in Minnesota

noreply@blogger.com (Cristy) — Thu, 11 Apr 2013 19:59:00 +0000

Clearly, Mother Nature does not care that it is April 11th.

Where are you spring?

Life is Crazy

noreply@blogger.com (Cristy) — Sat, 06 Apr 2013 14:17:00 +0000

I've been seriously MIA lately. Life's just been crazy. March was filled with birthday celebrations, endless activities , photo shoots and a little "I can't handle one more flake of snow" trip to Mexico.

But before all of that {nearly a month ago} we took the boys to the Mall of America to go on a few rides. It was actually Ryan's idea to go so that alone tells you that the ridiculously cold and snowy weather was making us all a little crazy. I can't think of any place he dislikes more than the MOA.

Our first stop was the Log Chute. Tyler had been on it once before, when he was about 2 {long before he could comprehend that it's actually a little scary} but not since. He excitedly hopped on the ride with Ryan while Matty and I waited....and waited....

They came down the hill FAST, so I only got one shot. Exiting the ride with a head of wet hair Tyler informed us that he wouldn't be going on that ride again anytime soon.

Next up...the swings {my favorite.}

And then a quick stop at the bumper cars {Tyler's favorite.}

Poor Mads was a bit to small for everything, but was a trooper. Sweet little sunshine.

Hopefully a full month will not pass before I blog again. But no promises.

A Worthwhile Trade

noreply@blogger.com (Cristy) — Fri, 08 Mar 2013 17:46:00 +0000

A couple of weeks ago, with Tyler playing happily outside and Matty down for a nap, I made the choice to trade a couple of hours of uninterrupted editing to sit on the couch and watch a mindless afternoon movie. I knew it was pretty unlikely that an entire two hours would pass before I heard unintelligible babble from the nursery or I was bombarded with requests for cookies, a glass of juice or a pair of dry mittens, but I clicked through the channels anyway. I quickly realized that the best it was going to get was The Women. I accepted my fate and began watching ~~and thinking about unfolded laundry, unedited photos and an upcoming birthday party that I was entirely unprepared for.~~

Aside from a slight case of Meg Ryan envy, I expected to get exactly nothing out of the movie. Except? Near the end, Meg (in all of her amazing hair glory) said something along the lines of “You can have it all. But do you really want it?” This simple sentence on any other day would have slipped right by me, absentmindedly overlooked. Yet on this day, it didn’t. Maybe it was because this particular day had come after 27 other days in which I had thought long and hard about my priorities and time and how increasingly difficult it was becoming to manage both.

While I am sure there are women out there who are able to balance the role of motherhood with a plethora of other important roles; that of wife, friend, daughter, employee, gardener, cook and entrepreneur, I learned long ago that I am not one of them. In my world, if too much time or emphasis is placed on one of those roles, the others inevitably suffer. Regardless of how badly I would like to be able to give 100% to everyone and everything, at the end of the day I am forced to make choices. Hard choices. The kinds of choices that are not clearly defined as right or wrong but are more about what is good and what is best.

During the last few years, I have fallen in love with photography, and it has been good. The chance to meet so many wonderful families and “re-meet” old high school friends and acquaintances who in ten years, have married and become great parents to their own sweet little ones? More than good. Photography, in so many ways, has been a huge blessing to me. It has challenged me in new ways and provided a creative outlet that I didn’t even know I needed. It has allowed me the opportunity to give back to others and for my eyes to be opened to the kindness of absolute strangers. But photography, while good, is not what is best. What is best is being able to tuck my boys in at night and watch the latest Netflix release with my husband while not feeling the least bit guilty that there is editing to be done or thank you cards to be written. Best is a Saturday afternoon spent building a snowman in the front yard or the feeling of tiny arms wrapped tightly around the back of my legs as I attempt to unload the dishwasher. I don’t want to miss out on those things. I don’t want to miss one.single.second of living room fort construction, afternoon board games or Tyler pleading for a “summer machine” for his birthday, despite the fact that I haven’t a clue what it is. Capturing the wrinkly feet of a brand new baby or an adoring glance between a daddy and his daughter feels good. But it doesn’t feel “best.” Being with MY three boys does. And as a working mama with an already limited amount of time, that is exactly where I need to be.

After much consideration I have decided to take an indefinite break from photography. While I will honor all gift certificates previously sold and very much look forward to the shoots that I have on the books, I will not be scheduling any additional sessions. This decision has been a difficult one but at the end of the day I know that when the time is right, my camera {and hopefully a new lens or two} will still be there. But family snuggle time and children who still beg for “just one more” bedtime story? That's brief. And I owe it to my husband and kids to trade what’s GOOD for the very BEST.

"Many things we need can wait. The child cannot. Now is the time his bones are formed, his mind developed. To him we cannot say tomorrow, his name is today." – Gabriela Mistral