Cow Kisses

I earned major mom points this weekend. On Saturday we hung out in the alley and rode our bikes. Ryan even got to ride the big kid bike. But now he refuses to ride on his own bike. I guess it's just more fun being a big kid.

Then I took the kids swimming at the gym. We go to the gym all the time, but I usually make the kids hang out with drooly, hair-pulling, grabby kids in the baby jail, er, I mean the childwatch center. This time, they got to hang out with drooly, hair-pulling, grabby kids in the baby jail. But AFTERWARD, I took them swimming.

Jacob is very brave in the pool. He dunks his head and swims completely under water, a few feet at a time. He eyes the deep end with lust as he hangs onto the edge of the pool. He begs me over and over and over and over to watch him dunk his head or jump in with a floaty. 

Ryan is way more cautious. He clings to me and generally prefers to be in the very shallow end with the exception of the kiddy slide. He loves that kiddy slide. Probably only because he loves slides in general though. He would prefer the slide to be on land.

I'm not usually a fan of pools myself. So, it's a big treat when the kids get to go to the pool. I associate pools with being wet. And cold. And having to get naked in front of people in the locker room. And having to wear swim suits. These four things are probably my least favorite things on the entire earth. Id rather shovel cow poop. So, yeah, I tend to side with Ryan and his trepidation of the water. 

When we are done with the pool, the kids and I spend just as much time in the showers as in the pool water. I huddle desperately under the warmth. I close my eyes and can almost pretend I'm in a steamy spa. Until Ryan erupts into a tantrum because he can't reach the soap dispender. Ryan LOVES the soap dispenser. He demands to be in my arms where he is within touching distance of the dispencer knob. So my spa experience lasts about 30 seconds before there is a wet, squirmy baby glued to my arms dispensing foaming soap all over my body. But I'll never gripe about paying gym fees seeing as how we cost them about that much in shower soap every time we swim.

The next day, I took the kids up north to tour some local farms. I had no idea we had so many farms an hour's drive away! There were goat farms, fiber farms, produce farms, and dairy farms! 

Being farmers:

Before our hayride, I tried to get some good shots of the boys together. HA. Nice try mom.

They look so thrilled.

I asked them to be nice to each other. So Jacob went in for a kiss.

Ryan was clearly a big fan.

Then, conveniently, Ryan had an itch on his head.

SMACK. Didn't see that one coming, did ya?

Good thing Jake thought it was pretty funny. If Ryan doesn't stay cute, he's probably going to get the hell beat out of him on a regular basis.

Seriously? You can't both look at the camera at the same time? 

Please note: I am wearing my cowboy boots. And I stepped in real cow poop! Now they are authentic!

 

Jacob enjoyed the hayride.

Mostly.

 

Then we got a good look at all the dairy cows. Dairy cows are so pretty. I have a thing for cows. I think it started with a cartoon called Cowboys of Moo Mesa.

George Jetson was my first crush. Raphael the Ninja Turtle was my second crush. But Moo Montana...he was my first LOVE. I mean...look at that physique! And no, when I was in fourth grade it never occurred to me how odd it was that a cow was riding a horse. Now I see all kinds of wrong with it.

 

COWS!

 

I imagine this is what it's like to eat in the Duggar household every night.

 

LOOK! A nine day old baby calf! If you thought you had a big baby, thank your lucky uterus stars that you are not a cow.

We couldn't leave without taking tractor pictures. I mean I have boys. Duh.

As we were saying goodbye to Stardust (who just happens to be the same age as Ryan), Stardust decided to give Jacob an unexpected kiss.

I love cows! Can I have a cow? No, literally. I want a cow. I can pretend it's my love child with Moo Montana.

Sorry For Footballing

I'm not an inherently competitive person (unless we are talking motion practice, in that case, "I'm gonna to rip your case apart element by element with my freakin' bad ass motion and persuasive case law!"). For example, in football, when I see a player on the opposite team go down, my first reaction isn't "oh yeah!"... it's more like, "why isn't anyone asking if he is ok?!"

And I have this weird thing for underdogs. I ALWAYS have to root for the underdog. I think it's due to the fact that I've lived in the Seattle area pretty much my entire life. Let's face it, when it comes to sports, Seattle doesn't have the best track record. I mean, we can't even keep a basketball team. Seahawks: until recently were a joke. And the Mariners.... oh man. So, I guess my love for underdogs comes from the fact that I've been rooting for underdogs my entire life.

Anyway, I'm not a huge sports person. When I started dating my husband, he would invite me to watch football with his friends. I tolerated it, mostly enjoying the beer and pizza and secret footsie underneath the coffee (beer) table. Football was too confusing. Too much counting.

That all changed last year during pre-season football. The radio people began to talk about this rookie kid who was too small to be a quarterback. Everyone was incredulous when it was announced that this rookie would not only make the cut, but be the starting quarterback for the Seahawks. Everyone was doubtful. They thought the coach was taking crazy pills. That's when I knew I loved Russell Wilson.

The more people doubted him, the more I loved him. And as he proved himself game after game, everyone's mouth's dropped open. And I loved him even more. I took so much pride in him it was as if I was the one who discovered his talent. I loved how he blew everyone's expectations out of the water. Not to mention, he's pretty much the cutest little thing you've ever seen on an NFL field.

But there was one small problem. I still knew nothing about football. My love for him relied solely upon what the radio talk show hosts said about him. So...for Russell, I did something I had not been able to do in the seven years that I had been casually watching football with my husband: I learned football. I learned the Seahawks. And all that learning was rewarded. Russell killed it last year. He tied Payton Manning for the most touchdowns thrown by a rookie. He lead the Seahawks into the playoffs.

But, the final game last year against the Falcons was what really clinched my new love for football (Russell Wilson). The game was so riveting and so intense. The Seahawks made a huge comeback the second half (it was so crazy that I swore it could have been a movie) and then just barely lost by two points. That day, my fate as a football (Wilson) fan was sealed. I believed in him when no one else did. And he made me proud! (I'm totally naming my next kid Russell.)

And that brings us to today. The Seahawks just creamed the 49'ers tonight. And now I have a bigger problem. What am I going to do when the Hawks dominate football this year and are no longer the underdogs? Gulp.

Oops. This post was supposed to be about my trip with the kids to a local dairy farm. Guess I kind of got a teeeny bit off topic.

The Nerd Fairy Visits

I continue to be the happiest person on earth. My work is amazing so far. It's too amazing. I have two feelings that are competing for my mind right now. One is total excitement and relief that I have finally found the perfect job for me. The other is anxiety and fear that all this wonderfulness will go away or disappear, either, because this is all a dream or because they are unable to extend my position after the original six months.

When I accepted the job, I was told I would be doing a lot of public disclosure stuff (mindless document review). So far, I've only been doing litigation (which is totally fine with me!). I've been asked to assist on a case that is going to trial in December. It's a personal injury case so I'm totally in my element and comfort zone. The litigation team (all four of us) were sitting around the conference table yesterday discussing litigation strategy. I was amazed at how much I knew about trial strategy and how much I could contribute. I was genuinely surprised.

I only have three years of litigation under my belt (only two years of active participation) and I've only co-chaired one trial, but here I was actively contributing to the strategy session. I was pinching myself and asking, "who is this person who has suddenly occupied my body?!" I feel like I've crossed a precipice. The one that divides newbies from non-newbies. It feels amazing. I have to say that I owe it to insurance defense work. When you defend cases for insurance companies you are exposed to so many different cases and issues that you quickly gain experience in a little bit of everything.

As idyllic and dreamlike as my position is, the actual work has been even more so. Everything is going so well that I feel like this job was made for me. My first day at work, I was asked to assist with researching an unusual and obscure issue on which there is not much case law or guidance. It just so happens that I had researched that same exact issue two months ago and had written an extensive motion on it. I was able to provide some information off the top of my head which, I'm hoping, earned me some major points.

I heard one of the litigation attorneys talking about an insurance coverage issue she was having in another case. Before I could stop myself, I blurted out, "Oh my gosh, can I help? I love insurance coverage. It's my favorite!" Half an hour later, I had finished drafting a request for tender. From the far reaches of my memory, I pulled out my knowledge of insurance company duties to defend and indemnify, standards for properly determining coverage, and extra-contractual damages. With each word I typed about breaches of good faith and coverage estoppel, I became giddy with happiness and a little person inside me was doing the happy dance on repeat. NERD ALERT.

My next assignment is to draft a complaint for declaratory judgment. This is like the jackpot of all jackpots for insurance law lovers like me. I'm so excited that I just spent an hour of my Friday evening researching sample complaints....for FUN.

Speaking of weekend, it could not have come at a better time! I just spent the past two days drafting an intense response to a summary judgment motion. It's lengthy and bursting with legal analysis. On Thursday I spent seven consecutive hours drafting it. I spent another seven consecutive hours on it today. By the time 4:30 rolled around, my brain was going to explode if I had to analogize one more case. I felt like my eyes were emitting rays of computer light. The next two days will give my brain plenty of time to rest.

But, honestly, I can't wait to go to work on Monday so I can get started on that complaint for declaratory judgment. I'm pretty sure the nerdy fairy has just inducted me into the nerd hall of fame.

Jacob's Totally Radical Ninja Turtle Birthday

Jacob's birthday party was strung together at the very last minute this year. Thankfully, I kept it pretty low key and made everything (mostly) easy on myself. With ending a job, traveling for a mini vacation, and starting a new job in the span of seven days...things were just a little bit crazy. But that's ok. I can handle crazy. I AM crazy.

When Jacob told me he wanted a Ninja Turtle party, I totally did a happy dance. The Turtles and I go way back. WAY, WAY back. In fact, I was a Ninja Turtle for four years in a row. No. Not just for Halloween. I was a Ninja Turtle EVERYDAY for four years in a row. Not just any Turtle. I was Raphael. The coolest, most sarcastic, smart-ass of a Turtle that there is. I wore green sweats and Ninja Turtle shirts and hats (to cover my hair and resemble the baldness of a turtle). Yes, I was a fashion nightmare. But I was totally oblivious...until a mean third-grader bumped into me in the school hallway and told me I needed a sex change (for the record, I didn't even know what that meant).

One time, when I was in fourth grade, my cousin asked me what I wanted to be when I grew up. Without a moment's hesitation, I blurted out, "Raphael." I mean... Duh. She laughed, told me I was ridiculous and announced that it could never happen. I told her, in total seriousness, that I would make it happen. I would find a way! And I seriously believed that.

Anyway, the point being, I was more than thrilled to relive my Turtle fantasies....er, I mean, throw Jacob a Turtle party for his birthday (Go ninja, go ninja go!).

Aside from send out some invitations, I did absolutely nothing to get ready for the party until the day before. Saturday, the day before the party, I stopped at Party City and got all my party favors and some giant wall posters for décor. Then I buzzed around town for food supplies and streamers.

Highly daunted by ridiculous birthday party photos from Pinterest, I donned my "working mom with no time" badge proudly, flew by the seat of my pants, and pulled together a haphazard but mostly successful party.

Ready to party! Five-year-old Jacob and 17-month-old Ryan.

Jacob illustrated the invitations:

Decorations were simple: I bought some green globe decorations and made them into Turtle heads. I hung store-bought banners and posters on the walls, covered the table in a neon green table cloth, and strung some streamers around the house (literally, in the last five minutes before guests arrived). Jacob was IN LOVE with the turtle heads. I thought they were pretty cute too (even though I was horrified to find out that I didn't have red streamers for Raphael's head...poor Raph- is it weird that I have a strong attraction to a fifteen-year-old humanoid turtle?).

Gigantic Turtle wall posters didn't make it in the picture but hung on the door.

The food was equally simple. The night before the party, I pre-ordered six gigantic pizzas from our favorite local pizza place. I put a bunch of fruit and cheese on skewers for some fruit-kebabs. I also made green "ooze" juice for the kids. I found several online recipes for green punch but they all seemed really complicated. I was determined not to use more than three ingredients. I eventually mixed green Hawaiian punch with sprite and lemonade concentrate. No recipe. I just poured a little here and a little there until I ended up with a taste I liked. And....OMG....it was surprisingly AMAZING! I wish I had gotten a picture. The color was a fantastic neon green.

Fruit kebabs

When the kids arrived, we all went outside to play some games in the backyard. My husband and I were so excited to share our lawn with everyone. About a month ago, we finished our backyard project (we had leveled and hydro-seeding). The back lawn is now the most-prized possession of my husband. My husband is so in love with his lawn that he refuses to let me put things on it because he doesn't want to make indents in the grass. In fact, he is totally obsessed with the lush, green grass. I have a couple theories to explain this obsession. They all involve a comparison of the thinning of his hair to the thickness of the grass....I have decided not to share this with him. You know, for the sake of our marriage.

First, we played Pizza Bingo! I created pizza cards (thank you online stock photos and Kinkos!) and put five pizza ingredients on each one.When I called out an ingredient, kids put a square on their pizza if they had that ingredient. The first kid to get five squares won. We, of course, played until everyone was a winner.

After Pizza Bingo, we played Splinter Says (Simon Says) and Pizza, Sewer (Red Light, Green Light). I was just about exhausting my game ideas when our star attraction showed up! Through our local YMCA, we got a karate instructor to come over and give a mini karate lesson. I was really nervous about how this would go since most of the kids were pretty young and had short attention spans. But it was a crazy success! The parents even joined in and, honestly, I think they had more fun than the kids!

The sensei, taught us how to punch, kick, and block.

Then he sparred with his partner and passed out real Ninja Turtle weapons for us to hold. The kids were so excited to hold real nunchucks and sis.

For the grand finale, we all got to break blocks! I can't even tell you how much the adults loved this. At the beginning everyone else seemed skeptical, especially after the demonstrator said, "ouch!" during the demonstration. I "took one for the team" and jumped to the front of the line. But in the end, every single person took a turn!

Practicing

My inner Raphael came out. 

Then we came inside for food. Please forgive me while I take a second to brag...but... check out my cake! I borrowed a Ninja Turtle cake pan from a friend but the face looked kind mean. So I decided to make my own, totally from scratch, and without any instructions. Thank goodness frosting can hide a lot of imperfections.

Blowing out the candles:

The quiet observer, waiting to make his move:

My favorite picture from the day-- proof that we were all happy :)

After cake, we opened presents and then I sent the loud kids outside to play again. Everyone wanted to keep the boards they had broken. So I brought down the markers and we colored them. This turned out to be a very cool party favor.

The babies, just hanging out:

I was so busy running around during the party that the whole thing went by so fast. I barely had three seconds to chat with the guests. When they all left not too long after cake and presents, I was very sad to see it all end. I felt a little bit let down, but when I saw how happy Jacob was, it was easy to put those feelings aside and just live in his joy.

We survived another one. Phew!

Heart Burn

My Jacob is five. He is gregarious. He is stubborn. He is enthusiastic. Everything he finds on the ground is considered a "treasure" and is immediately treated as the most fragile and precious artifact in human history. Today I was clearing out some old toys in preparation of Jacob's birthday party tomorrow. Jacob stomped towards me from the kitchen holding out an empty candy wrapper accusingly.

"MOMMY. You threw this in the trash?! THIS is not TRASH. It's TREASURE!" He resuscitated the candy wrapper's injured dignity and placed it gingerly in his "treasure jar." I was admonished at great lengths about the value of this dirty, ripped, empty wrapper and instructed to never throw it away again.

Great. My kid is a Category 3 Hoarder.

Jacob is also very sweet. He will come up to me at the most random times, throw his lanky arms around my body in a half-pint hug and tell me he loves me. I instantly melt. Unless I'm trying desperately to finish blow drying my hair so that I won't be late for work. Then I tell him to go watch cartoons.

He is easily upset but easy to calm down (with the right techniques and tricks). He is also sensitive and acutely aware when an injustice is being borne by anyone, especially himself. When he thinks I'm not looking he will grab toys away from his brother or be too rough. But if anyone else tries the same, he is right there to stand up for him (or, more frequently, to tattle). While he doesn't like to share his toys, he has a deep love for his brother and loves to make him laugh.

Jacob is very particular and methodical. Everything has to be done properly, by the correct process. If I interrupt his play or his work before the process is complete, there will be trouble. He gets this from his dad. But he has my sense of adventure and once he sees that there is a fun, new way to do things, he is very eager to try it out and experience it.

As Jacob turns five, I've been finding myself trying to remember what he was like when he was a baby. Before Ryan was born, Jacob was the center of our lives. Everything was about Jacob. Now Jacob shares us with his little brother and is independent enough to do many things alone. The stark contrast between my baby Jacob and my five year-old Jacob has me realizing how different they are. They are two different people.

My memory is very bad. I tend to live in the present and past events easily become abstract and elusive. I had a hard time remembering what baby Jacob was like until I sat down and scoured through his old baby pictures. With each picture, I was struck with a very clear memory of each particular moment. Baby Jacob started to come back to life. I began to remember him more clearly. The way he used to say "num" for water. The way he would tell us "back" as he put an item in its proper place. The way he used to look up at me so helpless and expectant, trusting in me so completely. How his tiny little hands used to fit in my palm. How he used to fall asleep on my lap and snore loudly.

These memories, that used to be so distant, rushed at me with so much force that I was overcome by grief. I suddenly missed that baby Jacob so terribly that I began to ache for him. "But," I reasoned, "he is gone." And it's the truth. Although five year-old Jacob is here for me to touch and feel and experience, baby Jacob is gone. He will never be here again.

I will never rock that sweet baby to sleep in my exhausted arms, waiting so patiently for his breathing to become regular. He now falls asleep on the top bunk of his big boy bed after I leave his room. I will never again admire his disproportionate, almost cartoonish, head. His body has finally caught up with his head size. I will never again be able to gaze at his bright blue eyes. Those eyes are now green.

My heart feels like it is burning from the inside out. I am helpless to the passage of time. With each year that passes and each birthday we celebrate, baby Jacob is left further behind. My greatest fear is that some day, I will forget him. That these memories will lose their power. That there will no longer be any recollection behind the pictures. That the heart and magic behind each photo will escape and leave behind only a hollow 2D outline of a sweet little baby that I once loved. A baby that was my whole entire world.

This feeling is a new one for me borne out of the perspective I've gained with the passage of time about the shortness of Jacob's year of baby hood. It makes me clutch Ryan so much tighter. And it makes me bawl thick, warm tears in the quiet of the evening.

Under New Mom-agment

I feel like I just had a life make-over. Or I'm living someone else's life. OR this is a dream. I'm going to wake up any second right?

The new job started on Tuesday and, holy hell, it is fabulous. I keep thinking "THIS is how normal people live?!" as if a cruel and unusual shackle has been cast off my shoulders and I'm finally learning what it is like to be a normal person. Everything seems brighter, better, and more wonderful. 

With my new job, I get the best of both worlds: I get to live like a "normal" person and have an attorney job! No late hours. No insane billable hours. No pressure to make partner. No anxiety over trying to bring in new clients. I get some darn good benefits. I get an office. I get to do interesting and important work. I get home at (or even BEFORE) 5:00 p.m. This just has to be a dream. The salary isn't anything special for an attorney job but...I feel ridiculous for even bringing that up given how great everything else is. 

The peaceful view from my new office:

The work itself is interesting and important. I'm part of a team that acts very much like the general counsel for the local government. We do everything and anything. We provide counsel on any topic that might arise out of the governance of a county and the operation of any government agency or department. This includes litigation and contracts. I already have research assignments on everything from agency law and the implementation of policies, Indian law tax issues, restoration of gun rights, and health insurance programs under the new national law. I've also been assigned to assist in pre-trial work for a case we are defending. I'm approaching everything with wide eyes, a bushy tail, and a unwaivering smile. Am I still dreaming?

There's just one tiny problem. I'm only guaranteed 6 months of employment. So as much as I want to let out a deep sigh and revel in the amazement that I actually landed this too-good-to-be-true job, the threat of future unemployment looms above all the wonderfulness. Still, I'm trying really hard to ignore that gray cloud and grasp desperately onto my effervescent and undefeatable optimism. 

Before I got this job, I had no idea what a civil prosecutor actually did (other than defend against lawsuits). I had no idea this was the job of my dreams. And that it was only 15 minutes away from my home. Even though I originally went to law school because I wanted to be an attorney for a government agency or a local government entity, I was positive that I would be a private litigator for the rest of my life. I had lost sight of my original inspiration or had simply accepted that it was too impossible to land one of these jobs, especially with my legal experience narrowly limited to the realm of personal injury litigation. 

When I interviewed for this job, I didn't even want it. When they offered me the position (by way of a presumptuous voicemail message welcoming me to the team), I still didn't want it. When I accepted the position (out of extreme desperation), I was convinced I was making the wrong choice and throwing my career away. But, I really wanted to be closer to home and told myself it would be worth the "sacrifice." 

The "sacrifice" has turned into the most wonderful situation I could imagine. I can't believe how lucky I am. Jobs like mine do not become available very often. Because they are so good, there is not much turn-over. I keep replaying all the events that got me to where I am and I cannot believe how well all the pieces fell into place. It's as if this is what I was meant to do. As if I've fallen in line with my destiny and the universe is indicating it's approval by no longer fighting against me. 

Now, if only I can convince them to hire me permanently....

Now that my commute is shorter (it's 15 minutes at the maximum which is only 13% of the length of my prior commute), I have truly become a different person. I get home at 5:00 p.m. and leisurely make dinner while the kids play at my feet. Sometimes we actually go to the park or ride bikes in the back alley or run errands or even do chores... DURING THE WEEKDAYS! This was absolutely unheard of before since I never got home before 7:00 p.m. and many times I got home at 8:00 p.m. 

With my prior commute, I would typically come home from work on a Friday night at 7:00 p.m. at the earliest. I would come home purely exhausted and have to fight an internal battle between desperately wanting to spend time with the kids and desperately wanting to put them to bed so I could collapse on the couch. Then I would sit on the couch and do absolutely nothing but be a zombie for the rest of the night. 

This Friday, I got home at 5:00 p.m., I disassembled Ryan's crib, I picked up the kids from my mom, took them shopping for party supplies, played with the kids, picked up dinner, re-organized the boys' entire room, and tucked them peacefully into bed. What a change! THIS is how normal people live!!

The momentum from this positive life change has encouraged me to be more balanced and healthy in other aspects of my life. For the first time since we were married, I put together a budget (with my husband's input). We set aside some goals and I'm tracking our spending with nazi-like discipline. I'm also eating much more healthy now that I'm not constantly rushing to throw food together or cram all my meal planning in on the weekends. For the first time probably in the history of my life there was a real (non-potato) side of vegetables served with every dinner meal this week. My daily lunches are even half vegetable. Who am I?! 

I feel like I have a complete handle on all aspects of my life right now. It's amazing how the extra energy and hours I've saved from commuting have completely enhanced my quality of life. THIS is how normal people live! I absolutely love it!

Osoyoos, Canada

Osoyoos, Canada is a little vacation world that boasts beautiful scenery and pleasant pool and lakeside experiences for tourists. It's a tourist town and while it is popular among Canadians, its treasures are unfamiliar to Americans. Five minutes from the U.S. border, a desert lake surrounded by mountainous hills, it's Canada's best kept secret.

Our hotel was way down there, right along the water's edge.

This is the place were our good friends finally tied the knot 2.5 years ago and, lucky for us, they invited us to join them on their vacation this labor day weekend. We headed up on Thursday and returned Monday evening. The kids, who have been unusually testy lately, did surprisingly well on the seven hour long car ride up and back. (It was only supposed to be six hours, but thanks to some accidents and traffic, we spend an hour each way parked on the freeway or moving at a snails pace on the highway).

Enjoying our hour long "pit stop" on the way up:

Our friends do not have kids and have absolutely no plans to change that. I was a little concerned that my rowdy family would ruin their otherwise quiet vacation. Luckily, the kids kept their melt downs to a minimum and I'm pretty sure we all had fun :)

Ryan was surprisingly accommodating at bed time. He slept anywhere that I tucked him in. One night he slept on couch cushions on the living room floor. One time he slept on the pull out couch with Jacob. And one time they both slept on couch cushions in our bedroom closet. I laid both kids down, kissed them goodnight, and they just drifted off to sleep. It was incredibly amazing. I totally lucked out when it comes to low-maintenance kids at bedtime. Part of me thinks that they are low maintenance because I have always kept their bedtime routines short. They know that when the light goes off, they have to stay in bed. I don't act like bedtime is a big deal and so they don't treat it like a big deal.

By the end of our four night vacation, we had a daily routine down which primarily involved lounging by the pool and hot tub, ordering poolside drinks, and eating food. In addition to that, I got in a daily 5-6 mile run each morning! We stopped by the grocery store our first night and stocked up on groceries. I cooked our first dinner meal (soy sauce and Italian dressing grilled chicken with oven-roasted veggies) in addition to from-scratch pancakes the next morning, and a french toast feast on our last morning. We also made plenty of BP&J sandwiches (my absolute favorite- I could eat them anytime).

We went to a horse track and I got to show off my horse racing prowess. I even came away with a whopping 70 cent profit. Ryan loved watching the horses, Jacob loved watching the races, but the time in between posts was pretty much a nightmare as the kids were hot and restless.

So we decided to stick by the pool the rest of the day. Walking to the pool became a game. Jacob would run ahead of us down the long, winding hotel hallway with a blow-up floaty around his waste and Ryan would shriek and run after Jacob, his lower body rocking from side to side as his little legs pumped out from underneath him, his belly puffed out, and his two arms dangling behind him. He looked very much like a penguin trying to run on ice.

Ryan lost his banana chip.

I prefer to stay pool side. I don't like to be cold. Even for a millisecond.

Jacob was a water bunny and practiced his favorite activity: jumping into the deep end on his floaty. He can swim but only when he is completely under water. He hasn't figured out how to swim with his head above the surface yet. Which is totally odd, but whatever makes him happy.

We also found an awesome lakefront park that we all enjoyed (even the grown-ups). No one can judge you when you are on vacation. That's the rule.

Heart melt:

On our last night, we visited a small amusement park to celebrate Jacob's birthday. Even the big kids had fun riding the go-karts. The celebration was clearly a success by the gigantic smile that was frozen across Jacob's face.

Our last morning in Osoyoos was Jacob's actual birthday. During my morning run, I stopped at a grocery store and picked up bread and candles and ran three miles back with these items tucked under my arm. This was not my favorite run in recent memory but it was worth it to see Jacob's face when I presented him with a glowing plate of french toast.

My gregarious, testy, intelligent, protective, creative little man is five years old. Although he tests me to the ends of my limits, he brings so much enthusiasm and spice to our family. He is an elephant-sized personality in a little boy's body. And he is so proud to tell every stranger he meets that he is now FIVE.

As I mentioned, our friends do not have kids but it is so fun to watch them enjoy the pleasures of "foster" parenthood as they play with our kids. They are so good with our kids and have developed a great relationship with them. We are so lucky to have these awesome people in our lives and in our kids' lives.