I can breathe…

It’s not that I don’t absolutely love the holidays… I do. I also love it when they are over. I love the return to the mundane, the eating of food that actually fits into the food pyramid and the promise of changes to come in the new year. I will miss my December discipline technique of calling Santa when the boys have made me crazy though. This season was a blast; Ander got so into the idea of Santa, he actually expected to take a ride on the Polar Express on Christmas Eve. And what a difference a year makes. Last year Rhylan was mystified by the process of getting gifts, but this year he couldn’t get enough! Marah is such a blessing… I had the best time dressing her up in her new Christmas dress and she charmed the whole family with her sweetness.

Another year gone by.

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4 is the magic number

No. Not number of children. Not cups of coffee I have consumed today before noon. It seems that the AGE of 4 is quite a miraculous thing. You see, my adorable oldest, Ander, recently turned four years old. After 4 years of ridiculous quests for independence, 4 years of sock battles, 4 years of not eating much other than PB&J and mac n’ cheese, it seems my little boy has finally…. mellowed out. Yes, we still have battles of will. But, I consider it a major truimph that his tantrums have stopped and he is mostly a true delight to be around. He tells me he loves me 100 times a day (and at least half the time he isn’t saying it to get what he wants) and he has really taken his baby sister under his wing. He and Rhylan still fight like chimps over the last banana, but at least Ander has gotten to the point where he can concede defeat.

 We celebrated this grand milestone (the birthday that is) this past weekend at a local indoor fun park. Dork that I am, I didn’t make an ACTUAL reservation for the party, so we weren’t allowed to bring in a cake. So. He blew out the candles on a pizza and I know I wished this year would last a good long time.