When the boys are grown and I am sitting at home weeping over old photos, I hope I will look back upon these undocumented seasons without too much frustration over the undocumented-ness. I hope I will remember that these seasons were full and joyous and packed with growing, even if I can't recall all the specific adorable things they said or tried. Although I always want to remember the way Evan narrates his life through original songs, occasionally accompanied by his 'contar'. And the way he wakes up early and snuggles, then puts on his jeans and t-shirt and hat, stuffs his pliers into his pocket, and sets out to do his work. I hope I can still hear Ethan's sweet voice in my head and feel the immense pride that washed over me as he sounded out words and read to his little brother.
These days have been full with the usual awesomeness/drudgery that is our ranch life, the excitement of homeschooling, and for the boys, many wonderful trips to my parents' house to soak up the love and attention of all their grandparents, many great-grandparents, and their beloved aunt and uncles.
The summer also included:
T-ball:
a trip to the hospital:
playing at the lake :: 4-H :: playing with friends :: small-town carnivals :: lots of other fun stuff with no pictures ::
a trip to Wyoming/Yellowstone with several of their favorite people::
and lots of other stuff that I can't, you know, remember. But I do know that whatever it was, we were together and the boys were adorable.
