Springtime

We live on a farm.
And in the springtime, on a farm where horses graze in the front yard and four little children run outside to play, sometimes in the freshly tilled yard, we also have mud.









And there are two little boys with huge imaginations. They can make boats out of styrafoam. Sticks and red plastic make for great sails. A little lego man takes a ride through the mud puddle.







Gwen decided not to immerse herself in mud. She did, however, give me one of her beautiful smiles.



We have spent time at the ballpark (about to be WAY too much time)











And I looked up one day to realize that my "baby" boy, isn't so much a baby any more. He'll be nine this summer, something I still can't believe. Seems like it was just yesterday that he was a little tyke.



And Miss Callie, well, what can I say. She's almost 23 months, going on ten. She does, after all, have three older siblings.



Notice the rock in her left hand? She kept picking them up and trying to eat them. Called them 'm and m's'.

Today was opening day at the ballfields, which mean pictures, wind, rain, mud, and four small children. Then we had a gymnastics meet. After nine hours of activities and freezing cold wind, I'm beat. The military picked this weekend to send Kevin away for drill.

Maybe tomorrow we'll see some flowers and sun . . .