Rocky Mountain High

Here’s a great big photo dump of our hopping Spring Break Trip of 2010.

A few weekends ago, my Mom bought marshmallow guns shooters at a craft fair. The kids have all had a ball, with my Dad getting the biggest kick ever out of the whole thing.  Sometimes Grandpa tends to act like a grumpy old man. Give him a ‘weapon’ that allows him to shoot the children? Entertaining to say the least:


When we first arrived in Colorado, the weather was incredible. We watched Roan and Rowdy at soccer practice. The babies crawled around in the grass. We didn’t wear jackets. Life was beautiful. Grandma played "airplane" with B.

For the first time ever, we (read: Grandma) splurged on a hotel room. Queen sized beds, little lap tables for endless coloring, ESPN for Grandma, hot breakfast, and free Wi-fi. Everyone was happy!

Bennett slept between me and my Mother. I have no issues about sleeping in the same bed with her. I do have issues with her opening the blinds at 7:30 am. I do have issues with her screaming at the TV. (Sad, sad day that our Jayhawks lost.) I do have issues with her chewing ice non-stop. And being bossy all the time. But sleeping in the same bed? I’m cool with it.

The major negative: one bathroom with one toilet. At first, we let the boys stand around the toilet and go pee together STANDING UP. After one too many screams of "HE PEED ON ME!" we ended that game. And just like that, I quickly reinforced the "sitting down only rule."

Another rule? THE THREE P’s may only be discussed in the bathroom. (Peeing, pooping, puking.) My brother-in-law wanted to know why I didn’t teach them how to play "swords" while going to the bathroom together. I want to know why all boys (even the grown-up kind) are obsessed with The Three P’s.

Anyone? Anyone? 

Moving on. Of course, the best thing about the hotel was the indoor pool and hot-tub.The boys swam every. single. day. for as many hours as we could stand it. 


We didn’t let the babies swim. Big fat meanies, I know. (Like I was actually going to get my hair wet.)

Rhett, for the first time ever, did not cry (as much.) When he was a preemie in the hospital, the NICU nurse insisted that his incredible screaming was due to his immature system. She was wrong. So wrong. Rhett screams all day long and all night too. (Going on 14 months of night-waking, people.) My sister’s patience is amazing.  It helps, of course, that he is quite the beautiful baby:

And Bennett? Little, sweet Bennett has officially declared himself potty-trained. It was not my idea. I had no desire to give up my his cloth diapers. And yet, here he is HAPPY AS A CLAM to be just like the big kids.

Consequently, he thinks it’s just as funny to talk about The Three P’s as the big boys.

Go ahead and pass him a Marshmallow shooter. And, be still my heart, I think he’s going to be pretty good at swords too.

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