Momma Brink In the city

The big news of the week was a visit from Grandma. Momma Brink flew in for a fast trip/long layover on her way to see Dave's sister in Iowa. She was here for less than 48 hours, but we made sure it was action-packed. She rough-housed with Asher(!), gave Finn about 2,000 kisses, and made quilts for everyone. We almost got thrown out of JoAnn's for that last bit, but the quilts are lovely and we adore them! Add quilt-tying to my domestic resume. We talked all day while she sewed, and I briefly yearned for the good old days when all my relations would have lived within a five-mile radius.. She adores her grandsons, and Asher was basically glued to her the entire time. Here she is, on our baby monitor, "putting Asher down for a nap." I'll let you conclude who put who down for a nap.

 Super grainy, but Asher is hiding under his blanket, or "being a shadow," as he puts it.

Super grainy, but Asher is hiding under his blanket, or "being a shadow," as he puts it.

 Grandma tickling our little shadow.

Grandma tickling our little shadow.

Last of all we took a field trip downtown and met Dave after work. As we approached the city, Momma Brink said, "My sons are living very differently than I have." Yes, downtown Denver is about as far as one can get from a Wyoming town of 5,000 people, as he frequently reminds me. We braved the crusty why-must-you-bring-your-children-out-in-public looks of other diners at Maggiano's, then took a brief tour down 16th Street mall, wrapping up our venture with a visit to Dave's office. He works in one of the tallest buildings downtown, which I think is fun and he finds miserable. Here is Momma Brink with our boys at Dave's desk.

 My sister once told me that people are more forgiving of misbehaving children who are well-dressed. I am mindful of that advice whenever I take them anyplace nice.

My sister once told me that people are more forgiving of misbehaving children who are well-dressed. I am mindful of that advice whenever I take them anyplace nice.

We said goodbye to Grandma with heavy hearts. I wish my boys could grow up closer to our families, but engineering jobs are in short supply in Wyoming, as are jobs in general with the current energy industry.

Friday night was a blessed girls' night with a bunch of fellow young moms at my friend Miranda's house. Nothing rejuvenates the maternal soul quite like talking birth stories and breastfeeding into the wee hours, with thousands of empty calories at hand.

This weekend was General Conference. As usual, I didn't hear nearly as much of it as I would have liked, particularly given the two small loud people who remain convinced that my attention should be perpetually directed at them. I definitely felt like a slacker mom when I invited one of my friends and her three-year-old daughter over, and saw her special activity folder and nest of neatly labeled treat bags, one for each apostle and member of the First Presidency. 

Of course, her daughter sat quietly most of the time and participated as directed, while Asher posed a greater distraction to her than her own daughter. Honestly, when company comes over I might as well not exist. Asher directs all his questions, demands, and monologues at other adults, even those he does not know. I become incapable of even re-filling his sippy. As Dave puts it, he is a very friendly puppy who could likely go home with anyone and lead a contented life.

I was again reminded of this today, when some new friends came over for lunch and conference, and I had to put Asher down for a nap just so he would stop pestering our guests. Also, we will not be playing croquet again until all of our children are eight or older. I think Asher picked up everyone's ball at least once and made off with it. Worst was when he tried to throw mine over the fence.

I am lucky in that he says the most heart-warmingly adorable things, usually first thing in the morning. The other morning he looked up at me with bright, hopeful eyes, and said, "Need to read a book about creatures!" So naturally I dropped everything and did just that. I'd like to see you resist his appeals to cuddle or be read to. These are a few of my favorite things! 

 He has always turned back into a pumpkin (read: raging three-year-old) by bedtime, but I adore him first thing in the morning.

He has always turned back into a pumpkin (read: raging three-year-old) by bedtime, but I adore him first thing in the morning.

Finn has been a clingy little dear this week. Never truly rotten, just a little sad. I assumed he was teething, and sure enough I discovered a red bump and a nearly emerged tooth yesterday. The world's cutest hillbilly will soon be symmetrical again. Well, his ears don't match, but we still find him utterly delectable. I'm sure you can see why.

 Finn is repulsed by grass. He will not venture off the blanket, which works well for me working in the yard. 

Finn is repulsed by grass. He will not venture off the blanket, which works well for me working in the yard.