Random Thoughts

The horizon is backlit by a glorious yellow sunset as a silent, dark weight crouches over our cozy little home. I can hear fat juicy raindrops pellet the deck out the open kitchen window at the back of the house. The concrete of the front stoop refuses to yeild to the incessant barrage, out the screen door directly beside my perch. A healthy breeze taunts me, gently calling through that portal delightful scents of everything green, growing and wet. Summer is here and boy am I ready. There is something so nourishing about a good summer storm. It seems to draw everything violent and unsettled out from within me, releasing unto something much bigger. Certainly, no man has ever made me feel more tiny and delicate than the raw forces of nature. The field directly across from our little house teases forward some of my favourite memories in it's mimicry of a childhood waterfront cabin. The storms that blew in off THAT platform were enough to make a person dance and weep simultaneously (which I may or may not have done down on the dock in my bathing suit - NOT my birthday suit).

Just as knock-me-off-my-feet as a good storm is, are all the different parts of our son. I know every mother knows that her child(ren) has the utmost delicious bits ever to exist in life. I can't decide if it's the bottoms of his feet, the breadth of his tummy, his chubby little cheeks (both sets) or his soft [sleepy] hands. Those same hands are unintentionally torturous in his exuberant affection during wakefulness. Tickle, Tickle indeed, lil' bugger. He smells better than even everything green, most times. I'm always trying to steal little pieces of him by filling my lungs with his scent. If only I could carry that with me always.

Work has happily exploded for Patrick, which relieves the household budget substantially and feeds his own self to unknown heights. He's really feeling and growing on his own terms and doing well for it. He loves his work. After supporting me through my move from an incorrect career path to one that feeds me, I sing and dance at his white-knuckled grip on dreams begun. My kennel remains almost completely booked, with two or three days off at a time - just perfect for catching up on scouring and scrubbing. My grooming schedule could still be a little more dense but I'm satisfied with my growth rate. I'm pretty sure I'm retaining at least 98% of my customers. It surprises me how much I enjoy bringing a smile to people's faces over something as silly as a puppy haircut. Go figure. Our horse boarding venture is a raging success this summer. We've filled our "barn" with a gorgeous and diverse herd owning equally lovely people. It is quite nice to have a gentle hum of positive energy about the place that we can just happily jump into now & then.

Life smells so great again.

Weekend Photo

Courtesy of a friend...

Shhhhhh.....!

Each morning at about 6 a.m., I'm plucked by precious finger tips out of the heaviest part of my slumber. They reach up over my side of the bed, looking for purchase to pull the sweetest-smelling pot-bellied cherub up for another hour of dozing snuggles. Without fail, 15 minutes before 7 a.m. those same finger tips start dancing across my face. A perky lip-smacking smooch is planted on the apple of my cheek just before the faintest wisper of "outside?" bores into my ear cannals. Damn.

Put just this way, how can anyone refuse?

The monster is insatiable when it comes to the great outdoors. Whatever may be on the docket to get done, the entire day's events is punctuated by multiple sweet requests and throw-down tantrum screams to be out from under any roof. Whether it's playing in sand, walking down the road, climbing on numerous objects - from the lawn tractor to bolders to tree stumps to playstructures, feeding the horses, refereeing the dogs... it could go on and on. Invariably, I'm ready for our nap before 1o a.m. Dad seems to be better at this sort of thing, often leading the charge of mayhem as I stumble over my own feet to keep up.

Exquisite Times

A little update... not cause I was prodded with an electric stick, or anything... *cough*

The only reason I need any prodding, I'm happy to say, is because we're having so much fun that I don't want to miss a second by living outside of a single moment. And I'm running my damned feet off, I'm so busy.

I LOVE being this busy with work. I'm lucky enough to have some really great clients and for the most part, every day in my own business is a joy. I'm tweaking and primping my space, not only for an open house I'm hosting on the 1st of May, but just to make my space pop for myself. It has been a little tricky managing with recent construction in the yard, but the constant flux of mud and sand through our buildings has pushed us to finally address the functionality and aesthetics of our yards. I'm very excited to see everything finished. The looming deadline I've imposed on us will see the work done and the results ready to enjoy for the rest of the summer!

Oh, right... you guys are here for the cherub. Excuse the side-track... Our little man has passed another round of tests and scans with flying colours. He's been experiencing some fevers while coping with colds and the threat of mollars, which I understand can take a couple of years to wrap up. I can't help but feel my veins freeze every time he feels warm. It's such a massive crimson flag for leukemia, in general. We allow his body to do its thing, duking it out until we reach 100. Then we employ some artificial control in the form of baby ibuprofen and so far things have always calmed back down. Bitter sweet, is my expansive knowledge on how to dose per weight... and too, my relief at our impressive collection of medical plungers/droppers. I never trust the ones that come with the bottles. I'm glad to be confident in my handling of such things, but annoyed as to why I am.

Developmentally, our boy is sailing right along. He's stringing together three words and looking for more. His own language is still the go-to for story telling, of which he is a master and artiste. He puts his own boots on - either the mucky outside ones or the squeeky clean inside ones. He loves to pass you pillows as you make the bed, or climb under the covers as you parachute them up. He's very affectionate, with lots of hugs and kisses - especially to make a boo boo better. His sense of humour is fantastic. Puddles are the best thing EVER and I can't find it in me to stress about wet pants or booters. Changing into clean, dry clothes is part of the experience, after all. The potty continues to be a fun game - we even made it happen, once! It has also become a source of bedtime evasion, clever boy.

I hope he never ceases to be this yummy.

Birthday Boy

The big day was on the 10th, of course. We spent the day prior at the Steinbach Aquatic Centre. All I have to say is AMAZING! There was a whirl pool that carried you around a little circuit, there were water fountains, a bubbling shallow pool and even a water slide! AND the family change rooms are as large and accommodating as the regular change rooms!! Horray! Definitely worth the visit. The kid had a great time, too. In fact, we've been visiting a pool every week and I'm pretty sure it's his favourite thing to do.

Picture time:

On his birthday morning, hogging Mom's favourite slowly-wake-up spot...

And finally, some nice enough weather lately to play outside with his favourite buddies!

Essentially, not much has changed since 12:03 March 10, 2011. Oh, right... except for the raging demon that lay silently waiting within our precious child for that precise moment to launch itself full-force into every disagreement (...when did this become a democracy?), every hairy eyeball and every 5 minute tantrum. We have reached new heights with our efforts to maintain our line... I feel like a monstrous bully most of the time. Having a teammate on the same page gives me the reassurance that we're only pushing back as hard as he pushes us and that it is for his best interest. For the most part, he's still a polite and happy little dude. It's just that when his strong little opinion does differ from ours, the LID IS OFF.

I think I can hang in there... except, well damn, my knuckles are already white. What's it been... 2 DAYS?!