FIVE

Connor,

We still remember that cool, crisp Saturday morning that it became clear that we would meet you for the first time.  Daddy and I were so excited...and nervous.  We'd only known you as the little bean who kicked, especially at night, who made Mama lightheaded around 10am for some reason, who led to many discussions from "concerned" bystanders that maybe you were really two babies instead of one, and who liked to be supported on a pillow while Mama tried to sleep at night, and who had the most handsome profile on ultrasound that we'd ever seen.

After you were here, the nurse brought you to me.  I remember thinking that the light above my hospital bed must be too bright, b/c you squinted your eyes.  I thought that your brow was very thoughtful and discerning.  You had a small red, stork-bite on the back of your neck--further confirmation that you were our little gift from above.  You felt so good in my arms.  Daddy was amazed at you.  We stumbled through our first night with you--funny stories for another time--and brought you home the day before Easter, in the snow.

 Here we are 5 years later.  Connor, Mama and Daddy are so proud of the boy that you've become.  You are bright.....no....you are scary smart!  You love being outside.  Cammo is your new favorite ensemble.  You'd wear it every single day if I could keep up the laundry (heck, you wear it dirty some days).  You love to catch bugs and butterflies and you love to learn about bugs, snakes, scorpions, and other really creepy critters. 

 Your special friends right now are Sam, Nate, Jaxson, Jackson, Wes, Caleb, Gavin, David, and (even though you guys fight a lot) Aidan.  You have a very strong and opinionated personality when you are comfortable with your surroundings.  When you're not, you watch and wait and stick close to us.  You think a lot.  Sometimes, long after I've forgotten, you reveal a decision you've made or a conclusion you've come to about a certain interaction or struggle that made an impact on you. 

 I didn't realize that while you played soccor all spring, you were a bit anxious about running ahead of us and striking out on your own whenever we arrived at the fields.  One day, you ran ahead and joined your team while we were still getting out of the car.  Later, you exclaimed (triumphantly) "I ran out onto the field all by myself!"  Brave boy!  I didn't even know you'd had that particular anxiety.  I loved watching you overcome those personal obstacles. 

I've learned as your Mama that you find situations more comfortable when you know ahead of time what's happening and have a bit of preparation.  Our first trip to the dentist last year made you so nervous.  But, we talked a lot ahead of time about what the dentist would do and what she would say.  You also liked talking over some things that you could say if she asked you questions.  (you're a pleaser like mama).  You did so great!  She asked you what grade you were in at school and (just like we'd practiced) you confidently told her, "I'm in pre-kindergarten". 

Your pre-kindergarten teachers this past year were Mrs. Stephanie and Mrs. Kelley.  We all loved them very much.  Every Tuesday, Wednesday, and Thursday you'd come home with happy stories of playground fun, centers with friends, crafts, and field trips.

You love art, especially painting.  The picture above you painted and named it "outer space".  Your teachers at school and church say that you spend a lot of time and concentration on the colors of your various projects.  (incidently, your favorite color is usually purple, but sometimes it's this purplish red color)

Your most recent passion is numbers.  You love to count and love to ask us (over and over again) how high we can count or if we can count to a certain, specific number.  You've learned that infinity is never-ending and that googol or googoflex (?) is the highest number ?imagined or counted?  I don't fully understand exactly what you know about this.
Grandma gave you a simple addition workbook and you've been obscessed with the math problems--you are really good at it too!

And, finally, you love maps and finding your way from point A to point B.  You know all the states between TX and NC.  A game we've played on occasion involves me drawing a map of the house and making marks from a certain starting point to a mysterious X where some secret treasure can be found.  You love this game and usually want to play it over and over.

I'm so thankful that you also seem to, in your own five-year-old-way, truly have faith in your Savior.  I know that the true understanding of Jesus and His sacrifice is not yet fully realized (not sure if it is for me on a daily basis either), but you know it and accept what Jesus did for us as Truth.  I will continue to pray that God will work on your heart, dear Connor, this year sharpen your character into His perfect Will for you. 

I love you sweetie,

Mama

Schooled by a fish

You know when you have those *frick*-that's-what-I-sound-like moments.  These days, those moments happen for me whenever I watch my kids yell at each other using the same-dag-um words I use when I (dare I say it) yell at them.  Dang!

Well, this week, I was schooled by a fish at Barnes and Noble:

 This is my new favorite book to read to the boys; for a lot of reasons.  (1) I LOVE the rhythm and rhyming. It's like a song and the kids love repeating it. (2) The story is sooo funny and I really know people like this. (not me, of course).  (3) This has been the simplest and most fun way to talk to Connor and Aidan about how their "hulky, bulky sulking is an unattractive trait."
and, finally (4) it shows them how being pouty is a choice and NOT just how they are.

Poor Mr. Fish is sooooooo glum. He just bluuubs all throughout the sea.  Aidan loves to help me with the bluuubing.

All of Mr. Fish's friends try to talk to him and tell him to have a better attitude, to turn his frown upside down as it were.  Mr. Fish doesn't respond to well to all that talk.

I want to be able to teach Connor and Aidan about choosing their response to a bad situation rather than the situation choosing it for them.

In our house, the apple definitely does not fall far from the tree.  The honor of sulkiest, grudge-holding-est Russell was mine til Connor came along.  I cringe at myself in him when he gets into a funk and refuses to let things go--I know I'm looking straight into a mirror--and not on a good hair day kind of mirror gazing. 

If I'm completely honest here, Connor's long-lasting grudges (and by long-lasting I mean 30-45 minutes or so) result from real and justified anger at Aidan for some stinker offense (or, maybe I just find solidarity in another sulker's plight)  ...but, how he handles the anger snowballs.  *sigh*

But, Aidan does snatch, run off with, and antagonize without remorse until called out.  Maybe I'm also siding with the older sib here being one myself and remembering the TOTALLY fake cries and sob-stories....but, I digress.  (just kidding Gretta!)

Aidan IS quite the opposite, though not without his own dramatic glums.  He's much fierier and quicker to anger than Connor--sometimes he even anticipates injustice and furrows that brow before there's even reason too.  Aidan doesn't think in terms of fair and not fair.  It's either mine or not mine (the not mine is accompanied by tears, whining, and pleading).  And, he most certainly wastes no time running to me to gain my support for his side of the story--very.convincing.stuff let me tell you.

Well, our little pout-pout fish is convinced that he can be nothing but glum, pouty, and sad.  "It's just the way I am....I can't help it..."

Don't we all play this card from time to time (even if it's just in our own minds) in order to rationalize or justify ourselves?

I see the horrible way I've acted or the mean way I've treated my brother or friend or, even, I see that I'm wallowing in self-pity....BUT, I can't help it, it's just the way I am....I can't control what box the world puts me in.

So, how can we snap ourselves out of it?  Here in Mr. Fish's ocean, a quiet unknown fish swims up and DOESN'T lecture Mr. Fish.  She simply plants a big SMOOCH on his giant pout.  Suddenly, Mr. Fish realizes that he's actually NOT a pout-pout fish, but rather a KISS-KISS fish instead. A whole new outlook on life. 

Every time I read it (yes, I've even read it to myself....no judgements please), I am convicted that my actions speak so much louder than my words.  ESPECIALLY as a mother.  I know that I am not my kids' Holy Spirit, but Richard and I are the closest living adult mirrors they've got to reflect the real One to emulate.  I want to, above all, love and kiss them--all the time.  Show them that God is love. Not condemnation.  Not self-pity.

Lord, whenever I'm trying to teach Connor and Aidan about their attitudes, help my actions show them that to be angry/sad is not an unnatural state to find yourself, but to realize that we can choose to wallow in it and blame the world for a badly dealt hand or we can choose to be responsible for ourselves and our actions.  We can't control the world, but we can control our response to it.

The desires of my heart

I've really been struggling a lot lately with self-image and self-worth.  Every day, I tell Connor and Aidan that God loves them and that they are sons of His and worthy of being in heaven forever with Him because of Jesus.  Yet, I'm not sure that I really believe that for myself these days. 

My heart aches every time they fight (which is a lot!) and I see, especially with Connor, how defeated and angry he becomes as I mangle discipline techniques by emphasizing more that he is wrong b/c of his behavior rather than because of his heart.  I do desire for his behavior to conform to our rules and that of his teachers; however, I feel like I'm not emparting enough how Jesus has saved us all from our wretched behavior and how there is no way we can ever measure up fully without Him. 

It's my desire for both Connor and Aidan to, rather than to act perfectly and follow every rule, realize that they are sinners and can never be anything but that.  That there is strength in the admission of sins.  The strength that comes from Jesus's forgiveness.  And, I pray for their hearts to be shaped and changed by it too.  I hope and pray each day that they would be filled with joy for this gift and that they would not find the unhappiness that comes with the ugly realization of our own shortcomings and disappointing performances.

This brings me back to myself.  Already I've alluded to how awful I feel knowing that my failures as a mother are teaching them to hate, not only themselves, but also each other.  I know, as I'm typing this, that I'm doing exactly what I wish that my boys would not do--to rely on my performance and not trust in the saving grace of the Holy Spirit who strengthens me.  It's a really hard habit to break. 
I watch a toy being snatched, I see the incoming assaults, and I hear the ugly words flying about.....and, really, most of the time I am at a real loss as to how to handle it.  I fail all.the.time!  And, I HATE it! 

Another recurring desire of mine is to have meaningful female friendships and this is the predominate source of feelings of failure these days.  I know that over the years, I've been guilty of not really putting myself out there like others have--I've been, to a large degree, content to be a friend, but not a best friend.  I always assume my presence is not important...what could I possible add....why would they want me...that they'd like to be with Richard and not me.  I've not been confident enough to push past the superficial for fear of finding out that they've seen my unworthiness too.
Pretty annoying stuff.

Things seemed so much more accessible before marriage and children.  My calling is such a precious gift to me and my number one duty and I certainly don't mean to be disrespectful to this job as wife and mother by dwelling so long in my grief about my lack of female companionship.

But, I do desire it. My hearts desire is to laugh, confide in, and pray for a sweet friend and to also know that that person is praying for me and loving my company and seeking my confidence as her friend.

I know that I'm made in the image of God.  His perfect, holy image was the mold from which I came.  These terrible, ugly feelings are not of Him.  They are of the world.  I am a sinner.  I have God's love and am the recipient of His love through Christ's sacrifice--a gift from One who is the real BFF.

I will continue to pray for that meaningful friendship and for God to open my eyes to opportunities to be a friend too.  I'll ask that He bring someone along who can realize my unsure footing in this area and mercifully look past it, seek me out knowing that I'm scared to do this for myself.  And, mostly, I'll pray that God strengthens my faith in His love for me and not to dwell in my perceptions of how others think of me.

Argh!  I hate wallowing.  Maybe tomorrow will be better!

Catching things up

Somewhere just before Thanksgiving up until a week or so ago the busy, crazy hectic-ness of the holidays took over.  I hate scimming over all the great memories of these past two months--there have been a lot!  Thanksgiving in NC with Grandma and Pop Pop and Aunt Gretta, discovering the "briar patch" behind Grandma and Pop Pop's house, enjoying time with cousin Andrew and Cousin Hunter and Cousin Sarah Grace, Christmas parties with friends and with the boys' classes, the excitement surrounding Advent, decorating, baking, jingle bells and Christmas carols, Christmas trees, lights, secret presents, loving talking to the boys about the First Christmas and delighting in Connor's understanding of that this year, Aidan's first time to be able to verbalize his excitement for Christmas to us, continuing to watch them grow their friendships with their friends, a special birthday party for Richard, and the wonderful feeling of getting back to normal after all the craziness and just being able to enjoy each other.

This has been the warmest winter so far, barring a few cold snaps.  These two were taken while Richard was out of town to a conference.  Connor devised a plan to become a delivery boy and took on a willing partner.  And, one night we had a make-your-own-pizza dinner--the cheese was a big hit...and a big mess!
                                                                                              

These next few are from our fun time at Christmas on 5th street--a fun Baylor tradition. Notice, again, the short sleeves on Connor celebrating another warmer evening.

Our only visit to Santa was that night too.  Wishing now that I'd dressed them in cuter clothes for the occasion.  Connor was VERY into the whole present thing this Christmas.  And, between us, Grandma and Pop Pop, Aunt Marjorie and Uncle Herb, Aunt Gretta, Granddaddy, and Santa, they got showered (ridiculously) by the end of it.  We tried to downplay all the 'gimmies' by sharing them in the gift-giving with neighbors, lots of Bible stories about the nativity, carols, and frankly by praying that the Holy Spirit would shape their hearts through all this excitement with joy for the reason we celebrate with gifts in the first place.  Truly, we enjoyed watching their fun and we did humor their curiosity and imagination about St. Nick--the childish wonder will only last so long...and, what great memories for them!

My last post really harped on how much fighting had increased lately. And, that's still true, but we are also so glad to see them (as Aidan gets older) leaning on the other one for friendship too.  Giggles and plotting rule the day.  Connor still wants to be first at everything and is acutely aware when he's not; and Aidan, wants nothing more than for Connor to include him in anything...but, he's not shy from knowingly pushing Connor's buttons. 

I LOVE having boys!

Connor now really desires to be a helper.  Here he wanted to help me make dinner--he cracked the eggs and mixed them for me.

 Dinnertime in our house now is C to the R to the A to the Z to the Y!!!

Rocks, rocks, and more rocks--thankfully, we live on a sheet of limestone only a few inches below the dirt.  Connor has a massive rock collection--stored in the clubhouse--and he loves hunting for more.  Aidan is a willing participant.  It will be interesting to see what sorts of collections Aidan decides to start soon.  Right now, he loves stashing pennies and dimes he finds in the sofa cushions into his jean pockets. 

 And, forget about telling Aidan not to be silly...it just comes naturally!

NO! YES! NO! YES! Argh!

The Russell house has been a bit louder than usual these past few weeks.  Connor and Aidan have landed us smack dab in the middle of sibling rivalry H-E-double hockey sticks!  Y'all it is awful.  I have this secret dread that I've somehow caused it b/c of bad parenting or inconsistent discipline.  I really don't care that 'all brothers fight', which is usually what I get whenever I vent to friends about this.  I want a solution...NOW!  I'm a red-head and I think that I spotted some grey hairs last night!

From the moment they get up, whenever one says something, the other one says "NO" or "don't say that" or pushes the other away.  Connor gets so visibly angry at almost everything Aidan does and says; and, Aidan says,"No!" to almost everything that comes out of Connor's mouth. 

Connor seems to find endless fun in torturing his younger brother.  Like today, he noticed that Aidan was getting spooked by the thought of 'nightmares' and ghosts close to bedtime tonight--well, Connor wasted no time chanting about how there are nightmares down the hallway--so, I spent 30 minutes trying to unload the dishwater with a whining and clinging 2 yr old at my leg.  Or, knowing what Aidan's reaction would be, Connor will remind Aidan that he has to go to school on PDO days and then says, "Well, you have to...you gotta make do."  More whining.

Aidan, the instigator that he is combined with the desire to have anything of Connor's will see his older brother holding a toy and declare,"That mine!", then snatch and run.  What comes next comes close to breaking the sound barrier as both boys tear through the house, one chasing the other.  The end result is almost always a resnatch followed by wailing or the most avante garde worthy-of-academy-award-performance for any 4 yr old ever.
Oh, and the constant competition--this must be a guy thing cause I don't remember this one.  Connor's all,"well, Aidan, I can stay up at naptime, and you have to go to sleep" or "Aidan, I can run faster than you cause I'm bigger" or "I'm first to do [anything]". 

This mama is TIRED and FED UP!

Connor is fairly quick to forgive but r-e-a-l-l-y slow to apologize--usually, only to try and avoid punishment.  Aidan is a speedy apologizer but refuses to forgive, out of spite I think.  So, pretty much any quarreling situation is screwed from the start.

The only time that I've noticed these days when they do seem to play together without fighting is when they are plotting against me or encouraging each other to break a rule.  There is safety in numbers after all...

My gut feeling is that Aidan has taken his cues from Connor, although he has a stinker streak in him too.  I've made them each a 'kindness' star chart.  It seemed to really make a difference the first 10 minutes or so.  Then, Connor forgot about it in the midst of a project outside and I heard a hand slapping skin followed by Aidan screaming.  1...2...3...4...We are 2 days into this experiment, and do you know how many stickers they have?  2 each!  In 48 hours!  Ugh.  Are my expectations too high?

I don't think that I'm going to resolve this issue with a few stars, or even this year.  I'm hoping that the Lord will give wisdom, patience, and grace to deal with them without doing them bodily harm (you think I'm kidding?).  And, I pray that He will use these hard days to sharpen their characters and warm their hearts toward each other and to draw them closer to Himself.

Lord, thy will be done...and, give me strength!

Goal!!!!!!

So, I don't want the fall to get away from me before I mention our first experience with organized sports.  We signed Connor up for soccor this fall with a local city league.  At first, I'm pretty sure that we were more excited than he was about the whole thing.  Our little home-body was fairly slow to warm up to the idea, until he found out that daddy would be one of the coaches.  For me as a mama, this is truly the kind of thing that I'd been waiting for, so I was double-y glad and relieved that his fear of the unknown turned to excitement.

 The Cubs were not unlike the bad news bears in their abilities and in their desire to win.  It was comical to see how many clouds or butterflies were more interesting than the soccor ball whizzing past these kids on the field while the exasperated dads/coaches yelled,"go, kick the ball...go get the ball!" 

Connor really enjoyed the getting ready part for a practice or a game--for instance, the uniform (which consisted of a navy blue and white t-shirt, his own shorts, and shin-guards).  The shin-guards were his favorite--and, they were.very.cool.  He loved the high fives, the huddle cheers, and the end-of-quarter-water-breaks.

I guess it was merciful that he didn't care as much about the fact that they got creamed at about half their games.  It was really sweet how clueless they were.  Of course, their age-group division was without scoring and had no goalies, so the odds were that most of the kids had no idea how they were playing til they looked over at their cheering squad in the bleachers.  And, ours was full of "go get 'ems" and "good hussles" and the like (so, they won every game).

It was exactly how I pictured my first time as a soccor mom.  My bag was packed with brand new water bottles, my camera, and special surprise snacks for half-time.  At first, I was a little shy to cheer; but, it didn't take long for me to swell so with pride that I was belting out those "way to go Connor" cheers with no hesitation.  I'm not going to deny either that giant lump in my throat as I watched him go out there that first day in the blistering TX heat, my little brave man, and run his little heart out even though he was probably really scared b/c he didn't know any of the kids.  And, my heart leaped when I realized that he was quickly making friends and began to not only enjoy being out there with Richard, but also he really enjoyed that HE was out there.period.  He looked forward to going to games.  I could tell that he walked a little taller (and a little farther away from me) over the course of those short two months.    And, just to top off the whole experience (for mom and dad), he scored a goal--his only goal--the last second of the last play of the last game of the season!  GGOOAAALL!  I almost cried as a watched Richard pick him up and toss him into the air.

 

Playful is probably the best way to describe Aidan these days.  The child wakes up wanting to play and fights sleep at night trying to get in just one more moment of it.  And, he has a magnetic personality that is becoming evident more and more each day. 

Even when he's sad, he's charming me with his larger-than-life tears and quivering, sweet mouth.  If a boo-boo's to blame, I'll hear,"oiw, dat hut me!" and "right heaw, right heaw--kiz it!"  (and, my kisses are like magic these days and I love it)
And, injustice is a big one these days with our home of "brotherly love".   When Aidan's on the receiving end of said brotherly love, he'll burst into tears and run to find me and bury his head in my leg, hoping, my guess is, that I'll immediately realize that he is the only victim in the matter and deal with the obvious perpetrator. 

Connor, these days, is all about forts and clubhouses and getting them stocked just right and sealed off in just the right places.  Aidan is all about crashing and shooting and instigating.  I'll be minding my business in the kitchen and suddenly there comes a gasp so desperate followed by, "OHH NOO!  MY CLUBHOUSE!"  I'll come into the room and find Connor has thrown himself down onto the ground very dramatically while Aidan stands there holding a blanket that has been the wall of the latest fortress and saying,"heaw Connor!"...like, I think that this must be yours--not sure if that's to distract me from the fact that he was the one who just pulled it down b/c he thinks he'll get in trouble or if he's actually feeling regret for it and that's his attempt at reconciling.

 It is so cute to watch Aidan breaking his neck to keep up with Connor and so precious when he tries so hard to get Connor to play with him.  Although, b/c most games end like the forementioned clubhouse, Connor is a little wary--can't blame him there.  Their play is so different and not just b/c of the difference in ages.  Connor wants to control all the variables and dictate what comes next, while Aidan is a fly-by-the-seat-of-your-pants kind of boy.  Connor watches everything and hears everything.  Aidan watches Connor and sees everything that Connor does.  This pic below is of Connor in time-out.  Aidan just ignored my 'leave Connor alone and go play' orders.  He crept up to one very angry brother and slid down next to him while saying,"I in time out!"  He's showing signs of possessing a very empathetic side---and, as you can see, a very silly side too.

This was in the car on a trip home from Dallas.  It was naptime and we told the boys to close there eyes and go to sleep.  This was Aidan's effort.  Don't let the picture fool you--this was not just a ploy to get me to turn around and let my guard down so he could finish drawing his picture.  He has this face for 4-5 minutes til finally sleep came and he dropped the magna-doodle pen and closed his mouth. 

You can pretty much bet on finding Aidan wherever Connor is .  He loves and looks up to his brotherand this makes this mama very happy.  Sometimes I'll walk into a room where they're playing and I can tell by their giggles and knowing looks that they already have little secrets that only the two of them share.   

Here's a snuggle with grandma.  He looks so big there in her lap.  Big boy and sweet baby at the same time.  Our little Aid-ey.

The trip

Not sure where August went.  Our trip to the UK is almost a distant memory now.  We had a great time in Dublin, London, Oxford, and Edinburgh.  Of course, the boys posed some challenges for us.  Our flat in Oxford was a cool mile away from the college where we ate.  With only one stroller and a baby-backpack, that got old quickly, especially after it warmed up and I stopped putting Aidan in the backpack.  Our walks consisted of trying to figure out a way to distract Connor to avoid the endless whining about how tired his legs were or how he couldn't walk another step and had to rest.  Funny how, when he had an ice cream cone in his hands, his legs worked just fine. 

Sleeping, which was a huge dread for me with the boys, really worked out fine.  The jet-lag worked in our favor there--they were exhausted and usually slept beautifully.  Except for Oxford, the whole family slept in the same room.  In our Oxford flat, the boys had there own room.  It was sweet to wake up to their voices down the hallway greeting the day with each others' company.  Many times, I was able to creep close enough to peer in and see that Connor had climbed into Aidan's pack 'n play and watch them playing. 
We were really limited about toys, obviously, so the ones that we had were treasured (interesting, huh?).  Aidan fed his obsession with matchbox and hotwheel cars, and, Connor rediscovered how cool clubhouses could be using bedsheets and chairs. 

Also, books were a great source of joy for them.  Connor had memorized almost all the ones we had and would "read" them to Aidan while Aidan looked on so seriously and attentively. 



I was pleased that the two of them teamed up so well while we were away--I guess lack of any other options forced them into it.  Loud doesn't even begin to describe there play.  I was constantly telling them to keep it down--our walls seemed like paper and I was so afraid to to be known as the 'loud Americans' and since our family was the only one in our group with kids, I was

I loved moments like this.

especially sensitive to there volume whenever we were with the group.
The students seemed to either really love them or not really notice them.  We had two students who even babysat twice for us during our 5 weeks. 
Our days were mostly spent finding parks, museums, and gardens.  There were some really great playgrounds there.  The boys were able to make a few 'friends' with other kids while climbing up and down on the equipment and in the sandboxes.  This was really neat to me because, even the kids who spoke different languages, played exactly the same and didn't seem insecure about their differences--not sure what I expected, but I loved it.

At Blenheim Castle

Regrets from the trip:  definitely myself.  I worried about everything, were the boys going to sleep?, would there be anything that they would eat?, how would we get from point A to point B?, are the other professors annoyed by the kids presence on the trip?, how long could I keep the boys occupied at formal dinner before they started embarrassing us?, what were expectations there for children's behavior?, why are there so many 'do not walk on the grass' areas?, when is it okay for the boys to be boys?, what's too loud?, ....see what I mean?  Most days, I just tried to get the boys out to play and avoided the group for fear of disaster.  Finally, by the end, I really wanted to
go to college for supper, and the boys ended up under the tables and making sculptures out of three or four different place settings worth of silverware--much to the dismay of this severe, stern kitchen bosslady, who came by sometimes and just took all the silverware away from them without a word to me.  Supper was...stressful, to say the least.  I tried not to care and just roll with it some nights, but usually I left hall in a sweaty, stiff mess and just dared Richard to linger longer than I thought that he should--I was ready at that point for the kids to go.to.sleep.  And, with the mile-long walk back, our journey back to the flat didn't mark the end of the headache that had started back in the dining hall.  Before we'd even left the college grounds,
Connor would start in on how he couldn't possibly walk all.the.way.back. 
And, usually it would end in crying, yelling, or a combo of both.

Christ Church College--built in the 1500's.  Amazing!

 But, as I said before, my response to all that stress was a regret.  I think that if we are ever blessed to go again, I'll be much more prepared and adaptable--hopefully.

they loved hiding in the mazes

punting

Big Whitey

All in all, a great trip with great memories.  Some of the highlights:  riding in a double-decker bus for Connor, see double-decker buses for Aidan, playing in the botanical gardens' rose garden maze, walking in the Christ Church meadow, being inside Christ Church college (beautiful!), letting Connor and Aidan say 'hello' every.single.day to the large fish in the fountain (their favorite, a white carp they named Big Whitey), navigating the subway, Blenheim Palace playground, Meadow Lane adventure playground (gigantic sandbox for Aidan and an awesome zip-line ride for Connor), Indian food, cool air most of the time, inpromptu rain showers, amazing flowers, real life castles, taking a ride in a punting boat, getting to watch Richard be a great teacher close up, paninis (it was the little things that made our days), and seeing the excitement and adaptablity of Connor and Aidan in all the unfamiliar made me stop and enjoy too.

in the Botanical gardens--that tree was huge!

so sweet--I was so proud of Connor here.

Just climbed 3/4 of the way up Arthur's Seat in Edinburgh (carrying Aidan in the baby backpack!).  Richard and Connor went ahead to the very top while Aidan and I watched from this landing.  Great view!