Forgotten Roots

It's almost as if he doesn't realize that he should be wearing tie dye shirts and hemp beanies...

To this boy, that lovely Eugene life is slipping away. Goodbye organic veggies and the occasional smelly hippie. Hello life full of cowboy hats, meat (okay, I'm still his mother so mainly black beans) and diesel trucks galore.

And there right beside my child was an animal carcass.

If you've never done a photo shoot with gunshots echoing in the not-so-far-away distance and never had  to make sure your toddler didn't pick up any of the nearby stray animal bones (or complete rib cage) then you've never done a photo shoot in Wyoming. Oh Wyoming.

I am 17 months old. I am a gem.

I am 17 months old. I am a rapscallion.

I am 17 months old. I am always on the move.

I am 17 months old. I am a dreamboat.

The one where Jake ruins all the photos.

So technically he didn't ruin all the pictures. Henry looks absolutely adorable. His Dadda, on the other hand, couldn't quite handle the bright light and was having some posture problems. I don't think these will be making the walls anytime soon.

"It's surprisingly bright out here."

"I don't know what to do with my eyes? Will people notice if I just close them?"

"How's this look?"

Ha, I love these boys.

And the sun did shine.

For two miraculously wonderful days, the sun graced us with her presence.

The tree in the background makes it look like he has hair. Score!

There was lighter wind, winter coats were ditched and allergic reactions to sunscreen commenced. Oh how glorious it was. I'd rather not talk about the coming forecast, nor how the trees outside my window are practically horizontal.

Don't we all wish we looked this cool. And yes, he is saying "hat."

In happier news, a belated Christmas gift showed up on our front porch today. Hello, beautiful home-brewing kit, we shall put you to good use.

When April acts like December.

April, let's be honest for a moment. I kind of hate you. You are super cold and windy and why must you insist on snowing?

The poor weather and Jake's busy-ness with track has started to make this mama go a little bit stir crazy. So when you have already visited the grocery store, Shopko and Family Dollar multiple times, just what do you do?

You stop doing the dishes and instead make the dependent earn his keep.

You start to play the risky game: Can the toddler put the lens cap on Daddy's expensive camera?

You read and you read and you read. While this book was about trucks, Henry's very favorite book is currently America's Patriotic Primer. Oh yes, it is.

You pretend your son is a daughter.

You have the wee one inspect all the light switches just to make sure they are still working.

You make chubby hands work on fine motor skills..he's putting cheerios on a spaghetti noodle that's stuck in playdough.

You paint in the tub, of course.

You listen to "Froggy Went A Courtin' 72 times.

When you have a big head

and short little arms, some things are just plain hard. Take for instance, throwing a soccer ball successfully over one's head. Just how do you do it?
****
This is going to be the one. I'm feeling confident. I can do it!

Victory will be mine.

Or maybe not.

Maybe if I didn't have so much hair, I could do it?

It's Vegas, baby.

On Tuesday with the windchill it was -1. Oh how I wish to be back in the land of sun...or more specifically in the land of sun where the sun does indeed warm your body.

We definitely did not have a traditional  Spring Break in Vegas type of trip. Yes, we did  have two toddlers in our traveling party and a set of grandparents but let's be honest, the four of us who were in our early thirties were definitely the most lame. It is very, very true that two of the nights we were there were were asleep by 930. Hey, Dadda's gotta get his beauty sleep. :)

The lights and sounds of Vegas were perfect entertainment for our little boys.  The barely dressed women (sorry no picture) and drunken frat-like boys, not so much.

After the Bellagio Fountain Show. Henry was actually looking past the camera and some cute girls in tiny "clothes." Oi.

Please pretend I am not wearing a UO hat.

Henry was obviously thrilled to be part of this self portrait.

After awhile, Henry decided he did not need his stoic face at the pool and smiled for a change. Remember his expression last time he was documented in the pool?

And, yes, he helped himself to another child's ball and had no intentions of giving it back.

Giving the adults a break from chasing us all over!

It turns out going to the pool with a 16 and 20 month old is a bit of work, but they sure look cute. I'm pretty sure this was Koen's 4th apple of the day.

Our favorite traveling companions. 

We are almost positive that Koen would have preferred  Henry not be on this trip.

And while it may appear that is it nighttime, it is in fact 9 am. And of course those are mimosas. We are sooo wild.