Evening Shade

Last Sunday, we spent some time at one of the local parks in Mesa, gathering with our friends Julie and Sean and their pups for an evening cookout. The boys had fun feeding the dogs fresh string beans, watching the fire and getting some much needed fresh air.

Connor kept the pups entertained with his antics.

We had a fun badminton game, with Ian as the coach. ("Mommy, you need to have the birdie hit the middle and go past Aunt Julie.") Let's say that having a coach did not make for an easy game, since we were "coached" after almost every volley.

As it warms up in the Valley, the evenings have been just beautiful. We need to do this more often-enjoy the nice weather and spend time with good friends.

Tough Love Part Deux:

At bedtime tonight, the boys were asked to brush teeth. Ian goes into to brush, while Connor continues to lie on the floor, rolling cars in the hallway.

"Connor, brush teeth time. "
"No, MomMY! No, I play Lightning McQueen."
"Connor, brush teeth or go to bed." He begins gathering cars, afraid I am going to take them away.
"No, MomMY. I say NO!"
"Yeah, Connor, you're going to bed. Goodnight." Scoop him up, put him in bed.
"NO! WAAAIT! I BRUSH TEETH!"
"Too late, Connor. Goodnight." Meanwhile, Ian has brushed his teeth, but is busy playing in the hallway. He was asked to choose a book to read and never did, so he gets no book reading tonight.
"I BRUSH TEETH!" Continous wailing from the boys room.
Ian chimes in. "Mommy, how many books do I get to read?"
"Zero. I asked you twice to pick out a book a half an hour ago and you didn't. No books tonight."
"Okaay." He is smart enough to realize that any pouting or arguments will not be received well and climbs into his bunk.
"I BRUSH TEETH! I BRUSH TEETH! NOOOOO!" This goes on for a solid half an hour. Finally Ian comes out of the room, once it is mercifully silent.
"Uh...Mommy?"
"What's the matter?"
"Uh, Connor kept yelling that he wanted to brush his teeth and then he fell asleep on the floor and now he's blocking the door." We go to the door and Ian squeezes through and rolls Connor away from the door so we can open it. I put Connor into his bed. Ian, ever the Informer, climbs into his bed before he can get into any trouble for anything.

On a positive note, Connor IS sitting nicely and eating dinner since last week's go-to-bed-hungry episode.