Okay, so officially have gotten over allergy season... or not. I mean, really, whose bright idea was it to have trees that repropogated through the AIR? Really? Where everyone's breathing?

Oh well. I accept the things I cannot change.

In other news, I am LOVING (notice the capitals here) working with the birds at the raptor rehab house in Selah. 10 minutes from my house, and I have the pleasure of sweeping up bird crap.

But really, it is a lot of grunt work, cleaning cages and disinfecting surfaces... and last week, I got to hold the feet of a beautiful red tail that had to be put down. Watched it die. Definite experience, although I wouldn't call it the highlight of my month. Poor thing got shot through the shoulder. Blew the bone apart.

Anyway, I have officially handled birds. As in, I have held birds roughly half my size on my left hand, their faces less than a foot from my face. The barn owl was supposed to be the most touchy about being handled by anyone other than the director of the center, but she was actually the mellowest with me out of all of them. I thought the kestrel was going to have a stroke, but I guess those ones are just naturally hyper.

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Andrew has started the violin. He has been asking about learning for months, literally. I exaggerate not. Even a little. He can't tolerate me telling him how to do anything for more than a few minutes, so we're easing in slowly, but he is already so careful with how he rosins his bow and how everything is put away in the same spot and how he carries his case around. A full 1/16 size, by the way. The smallest you can get, for your information. They had to send for it from Tacoma at the mother store.

Cole is busy taking pictures right now. He has taken 11 of his white truck (optimus prime, as he calls it). He has his last gymnastics class/performance this Thursday. He's still our first boy up, although he's gotten used to settling down in the 'special' bed (on our floor of our bedroom, on my side)if he happens to be awake before 6 in the morning. I'm sorry folks, I draw my lines. Before 6? My time. Preferably in my bed, although now that the light is getting here earlier in the day, I've found myself reminscening for those pleasant, just right temperature morning runs. Just me and my music, waking up.

But then, I think of how much more pleasant my bed is, and the fantasy gives a bit. I know if I could just get myself out the door, it would feel pretty darn good, but again... My bed puts up some stiff competition. Especially with the 7hour grove it settles me in.
My mattress knows me well, I'm telling you.

Anyway. Back to the boys. Adam... is currently exploring native american art. He accompanied his dad to the art museum in Tacoma, and now, he's all about the raven. And the owl. Really, all spirit birds, and such. He draws them like stained glass. He is also currently reading at a 3.6 grade level. He's loving chapter books and reads them over and over to his brothers.

Ben is tolerating change well. Learning to go without his nook during the day light hours. I've really been duly impressed with his optimistic nature. And his persistence. How many times does it take to get mom to give said nook back to me? If I ask one more time? How bout now? Now?

In my defense, I have held strong 99.9% of the time, and the other times, I plead noise induced black outs.
For someone who can fit inside a costco size diaper wipes 6pack, Ben can be surprisingly tenancious. Plus, he has the biggest brown eyes. And I swear, he can make them bigger on demand.