our new years eve was spent with long time friends, nine children running like banshees, games, videos, pizza and goodies.  but before the clock could strike the kids melted down, who could blame them? it was hours after their bedtime.  we loaded them up and began the trip home.  our friend teased, "you know that whatever you're doing at the stroke of midnight is what you'll be doing all year long!" i grimaced as i realized that we'd still be driving home.  we came down off the point and into our valley to see the entire place illuminated. at 12 am, from mountain range to mountain range there were hundreds of families lighting off fireworks from their homes; making for one giant, flurry of color for us to witness.

oh yeah, i can feel it. this year's gonna be a great year.

oh that cheesy grin.
oh that delight!
oh, the energy,
the zeal, the tenancity and spirit of this one boy.

today you've cruised around the sun 6 times
today you will run and play
tease and create
today you will laugh and squeal.

the moment i looked into your eyes
i knew that i knew you
and that you knew me
and our reunion was sweet.

you run on your own time schedule
you think in your own way
you learn independently and quickly
you are a free man.

happy birthday my friend,
my joy,
my boy.

you can't even try to be angry when they're covered in chocolate

sometimes,
sometimes i let myself get frustrated by the little things my kids do.
sometimes i want them to just sit still,
sometimes i want them to just be a little quieter.

and other times...
well, we allow all hell to break loose
and the little ninja in all of us comes raring out

using banana nunchucks
and reinventing long sleeved tees
the age old question is answered,

"my ninjas will kick your pirate's butt."

see that child with the dimpled tukas?
well, she's decided to cook. and by cook i mean make real meals, and chop veggies, and arrange delectable desserts. she's a literal ratatouille with a knack and ability well beyond her years.
and the first three times she did it i wanted to ring her neck.

the first time was a lazy sunday afternoon, the hubs and i were cuddled up tuning out the noises of the children, and in an effort to distract G from our moment i suggested to my three year old,
"go make dinner," and then i laughed.
she squealed and ran upstairs. after a moment i heard a chair scrape across the floor, i heard pots and pans clanking, the refrigerator slam shut, and i realized, "she's really making dinner!"

for her it was as if she'd been waiting for the invitation and she couldn't wait to take over the kitchen.

when i scrambed up the stairs i found her at the stove top stirring pasta roni in a small saucepan. she had looked at the illustrated directions on the back of the box and had put in butter, 2 sippy cups worth of water and a sippy cup of soy milk. all that held her back was her fear of the gas stove (which i thank my lucky stars for every day).

at first i was frustrated that she had wasted a box of food, but when i realized that she had added everything properly we decided to cook it up. and we ate it for dinner. and it was good.

but of course the story doesn't end there. the next night she brought a tray of vegetables to me:
she had chopped cucumbers, red peppers, mushrooms and carrots with a giant chefs knife. scaring me! the next day she chopped carrots, dipped them in brownie mix and brown sugar, and my husband baked them, much to her delight.

a week later i was on the phone, 10 feet from the kitchen when she brought me a box of cook-and-serve butterscotch pudding i gently told her to wait a few moments until i got off the phone.
but there's no stopping her. she dumped the package into a fry pan, mixed in brown sugar, almonds, water, and a tidge of crisco and then announced that she was ready for me to cook it.
again, i was frustrated! more food wasted! but after calming down, i added some milk and cooked that baby up. the only way i can describe it is, creme brulee. it was GOOD.

and i was left in astonishment. one of the things that i pray for daily is to be aware of what their talents are so that i can nourish and strengthen the areas that they already show efficacy. and here is a girl who shows not just interest in cooking, but actual skill. and while it is a source of frustration for me in these early days of her experimenting, how great a pay off would it be if she was willing and able to cook dinner for us when she's five?

we have made a pinkie promise: every time i cook, she gets to cook with me, but she can't cook by herself any more. here's to hoping she'll keep that promise.