...Continued

I promised myself I wouldn't spill the beans on the big Burt news until I had gotten caught up on all the fun we've been having this spring/summer.

I never did much care for resolutions. Or waiting, for that matter. So here goes...

I cannot eat candy -- this is saying a lot for someone who generally lives on gummy bears and Red Vines.

I can't sleep, no matter how much I want to.

I have canceled at least 50% of my morning runs.

I cried at the opening episode of So You Think You Can Dance, thanks to all the big dreams and future-ahead-of-me chit chat.

I am thirsty. So, so thirsty. All the time.

I almost dozed off in a meeting. At work. In front of my boss.

The sleeveless-shirted man who smelled of a hard day's work at the grocery store made me involuntarily gag. In front of him.

Leftovers are useless. I can't eat the same thing twice.

My kids, on the other hand, are becoming all too familiar with cereal for dinner.

And I am pretty sure Andy is one more imaginary argument away from a nervous breakdown.

If you guessed that we're having a baby, you'd be wrong.

We're having two!

Burt Babies #3 and #4 should arrive just in time for Christmas.

Family Time

The daddy is now officially back in town after more than a month of travel. Oh, how happy are we.

And we celebrated with a picnic in the mountains and a little hiking in a lot of mud. Alas, I forgot the camera, so you'll just have to take my word for it that nothing feels more magical than a family outing in the cool mountain air when you've been single momming it for a month in 90+ degrees.

I am one happy lady now that I can finally think about something beyond everything we were not doing at the opening of my favorite time of the year.

And so I return to the blog. Because, while I most certainly was a little worse for the wear by the end of the husbandless six weeks, the little Burts and I were not about to let summer slip by us completely. So we planned a few visits with grandparents and cousins to break up the monotony and pawn off the bedtime toothbrushing (truly, my least favorite part of parenting...besides potty training).

First up: Grandma's house, where the frazzled mommy got to sleep in while my own mama read stories, baked muffins and, yes, brushed the kids' fuzzy morning teeth.

 

The kids also got to play with their cousin, Cohen, which was great for a certain five-year-old who loves to be in charge.

I was the second child, so I may never know for sure, but ever since my older sister took my brand new My Little Pony with nothing more than a threatening look and talk of pinching, I have been convinced that there is are magic powers granted only to the oldest child. For now, I happy to report that, unlike his Aunt Mandy, Porter has chosen to use powers his for good, patronizing rather than pinching.

And as one who has now come to adore her sisters, it is so much fun to see how excited our little people get to see each other.

There's a whole lot of jumping and running and shouted names as they all babble to each other at once, unable to contain all the ideas they've come up with in anticipation of time together. New toys to show off. Funny faces to make. And simple, wild, happy screeches. We love cousins. And grandmas.

And aunts (who have finally stopped walloping innocent little sisters).

She looks loving now, but trust me, you did not want to cross this one's path from the ages of 9-19.

And sisters who remember a time when their mom mediated argument after argument with, "One day, you girls will be best friends."


Feeling grateful for family after a month of repeating "If only you lived closer..." again and again and again.

The Last Summer

It's July. What!? If I made a summer to-do list as many good, organized mommies do, I would most definitely be moaning about falling behind.

Instead, I take cheer knowing that while, yes, summer is almost half way over, we have at least made it to the Sno Shack, run through the sprinklers and have hunted down the world's best bubble wand. 

We're all about simple pleasures this summer, given that Andy has been MIA, working non-stop, since Memorial Day and I have been feeling a little worse for the single mom wear.

But I do believe I'd better kick things into gear (or I may never blog again). Because change is in the air in the Burt home, and along with Kindergarten for our firstborn, much looms in the not so distant future.

But before we get to that...

 

We welcomed summer 2011 in style, with poster board caps and orange flip flops.

You can't see 'em, but know that he chose to accessorize his graduation best with bright orange $3 flip flops. I did not argue because, well, I wasn't sure how dressy one is supposed to be for a preschool graduation.

Preschool has ended, and I am realizing that this is our last summer before big kid life begins in the Burt home...school and homework and school buses and much, much more. (That there is called a tease. No, I will not reveal all by the end of this post. Consider yourself forewarned and feel free to stop reading if you don't like cliffhangers.)

But back to this little guy (and his BFF -- he has two of them now, and I cannot tell you the last evening that was not filled with pleas to go play with Wes or Jonathan). Porter loves his friends.

When I found out I was having a little boy way back in December of 2005, I have to admit, I was a little disappointed. I did not much care for boys. They like aliens and cars. And they smell. And they pick their noses. How in the world could I love a little boy the way I was sure I could love a sweet little baby girl?

Magically, I have been transformed. I can tell you all about front end loaders; will let him carefully examine the spiders in the bathroom for a few long seconds before I smash them; and catch myself singing the opening song to Mighty Machines as I mop the floor. He is the sweetest, funniest little man, as evidenced by the "Mr. Manners" award that he received at graduation.

After a great year in preschool, where we learned that Porter adores "science experiments" and singing time; will eat veggies and other generally rejected foods if his friends are doing it (though he will decline them later that same evening if you try to mimic the day's thematic preschool snack); and refuses to write inside the guidelines on a sheet of school paper, I am trying to prepare myself for something that feels much, much too grown up for the one who made me a mommy. As for Porter, he is most concerned about whether or not there are toys and snacks in kindergarten. Maybe he's not so grown up after all.

Still, for as monumental as the first day of preschool felt, the last day felt much, much more profound, and I cried when they played the end-of-the-year highlight reel set to a manipulative country song that kept repeating, "let them be little." Luckily, they dimmed the lights for that portion of the program.

His first day of school was not that long ago. How can he be going to school -- real school -- this fall??

To be continued...