Sam-ish

He's not cute yet. I'm brushing him hair to make him cute. Like I brush my hair when I'm gonna be cute. 

A Little Story

Our Family History consultant in our Ward has been encouraging us to write our own stories. She has emphasized that something is better than nothing and I couldn't agree more! 

She has offered to come to our home and hold a Family History themed FHE. As our pre-homework for this, we have been asked to write a story from our life. 

I thought it would be fitting to write my memories of Easter Sunday as a child, with Easter having just passed. 

Easter was often spent at grandma and grandpa's farm in Idaho. If we weren't in Idaho we were at home in Cheyenne. I anticipated with pure excitement the new Easter outfit I would receive each year. Mom would sew our dresses and finish the outfit off with new socks or hats or gloves or little purses. Oh! How I loved waking up in the morning to see a new dress hanging up for me. It felt like magic the way my mom could do that. The girls would go to bed the Saturday night before Easter with pink curlers in our hair, ready for picture perfect perfection on Sunday morning. 

When Easter morning came, church came first and then the festivities of Easter baskets and an egg hunt. The eggs were hard boiled and dyed beautiful colors by the family a day or two previous. There was also at least one egg  that had been dipped in every color, making it an ugly brown color that we affectionately called the "camo egg".  I loved to snack on the hard boiled eggs after they had all been found. Our baskets were filled with little treats and, what I remember the most was getting kites. Those silly kites. I don't remeber ever successfully flying them, although we probably did. If not, it was surely due to the strong Wyoming winds that plagued many a childhood day for me. I sure did love receiving those kites though!

Surprisingly, (because I love the meals that come with holidays) I don't recall what we would eat for Easter dinner, but assume it was ham. I do remeber that grandma would make delicious angel food cake. That is a particular memory because we were not allowed in the kitchen when it was baking. On penalty of death! Or, at least a lickin'. 

Easter was always so wonderful. 

Leap Day!!

Little Sammy turned 4 today. His excitement for his birthday has been filling the house this past week. Bouncing off the walls doesn't quite describe him. Exploding off the walls is better. 

I'm thrilled that he is 4. His terrible 2s and 3s were long and drawn out, probably because he gave up napping way too early in life, in my humble opinion. Of course, these years have been terrific, as well. I have learned the deeper meaning of opposition in all things when it comes to raising a toddler. (Any age child, really, but right now that lesson is specifically regarding a toddler.) With the greatest joys come the greatest struggles. Sam is curious, excited, determined, and stubborn. He knows what he wants and not much will stop him from getting it. He is strong-willed and thank heaven for that. His enthusiasm for life just radiates off of him. He is so happy to be alive. I am not naive. I know 4 isn't magically going to turn him into a robot that always does my bidding. I am grateful, that he isn't there anymore though. 😀😀😀 

Now he is 4 and we have exited the toddler era of our lives. I love to look back on pictures of these past 10 years and see how many memories we have planted as a family. I am so grateful for my babies and my toddlers and all that I learned about myself during these beautifully challenging years. It was so much harder than I ever could have planned on and more glorious than I ever could have hoped for. I cherish the growth that Brandon and I have made as husband and wife. With each baby came a necessity to navigate new waters and rework our relationship to fit into the new course ahead of us. We have done it. And we are happier and more in love today because of it.

So, to Sam turning 4, I say, "Hooray!" I will miss his little toddler ways. His chubby arms wrapped around my neck, squeezing love into me. His chubby feet as they run, never walk, everywhere he goes. His independence that led him to climbing in the pantry many times a day. His ability to find mischief (usually involving toilet paper or spilled food) around every corner. It won't all go away overnight, so I will cherish it while it lasts. And be ever grateful for the memories that I can hold onto forever. And as far as the next stage of parenting, well, ready or not here it comes.