The Best 20 Minutes of the Day

It's a Monday night. No soccer practice. Nick had a substitute teacher, so no homework. Blake -- well he manages his own.

Dinner is over with early, the kitchen is clean.

The kids decide to savor the last bits of sunlight for the day as they head to the back yard. No daylight saving time here, so it's getting dark pretty darn early -- 6:15, 6:30ish.

Two glasses of cabernet are poured. We follow the kids outside and plop down on the comfy outdoor couch.

Allie is wearing her Ariel Little Mermaid bride dress. She and Zach are playing with a jump rope. But they're not jumping. Each is holding an end and they're running circles around the swingset, holding the rope just right so it's tight between them. Their laughter billows through the silent desert air.

They drop the jump rope.

"Come with me, Allie," Zach says, scooping up Allie's hand as the laughter continues and they dart about the yard as a single unit.

Blake and Nick are playing tetherball. No fighting. Just smiles. A brotherly competition. The ball bonks Nick on the head. They both erupt in laughter.

Daylight succumbs to darkness. The air is comfortably warm. A hint of a breeze flirts with us as we finish the last of the wine.

Glimmering stars in the clear desert night sky before us.

"I see stars Mommy," Allie says proudly.

My family. Smiles. Laughter. Fun. Wine.

A beautiful way to end the day.

Photo of the Day

The Itsy Bitsy Spider climbed up Allie's finger ...

Autumn -- What's That?

This picture wasn't taken in June ... or July ... or August. No, this picture was taken last year on our first Halloween here in the hottest city on the planet Phoenix. While the calendar tells us we're days into "fall," apparently our little cul-de-sac of the world didn't get the message.

We're STILL hitting 100, sometimes 101 or 102. Our lows are "dipping" to a cool 76 or 77. By 10 or 11 in the morning, it's a good 90, 92.

The good news is that it's all on the downhill from here. Just like kids in early December counting the days until Christmas, we're eagerly holding out another few weeks for the beginning of the seven months of nice weather. Where we can actually go outside comfortably for more than 15 minutes at any time of the day, not just mornings and evenings.

But the bad news, for me anyway, is that there's no such thing as fall in Phoenix. Of all the "things" I miss about Northern California (excluding people), fall tops the list.

I long for the cool, crisp autumn mornings. The gorgeous hues of crimson and gold spanning the tree-studded suburban streets. Sitting out at evening soccer practices with the leaves of those trees whistling in the wind.The kids playing in the crunchy, fallen leaves. Putting on the sweatshirts as soon as the sun goes down. The trips to any one of dozens of area pumpkin patches.

And of course, the seasonal trip up Highway 50 to Apple Hill, or as Brett tongue-in-cheek called it, Apple Hell, referring to how crazily congested the popular fall tourist area had become over the years.

On Halloween last year, the twins ran through the sprinklers. I wore a short-sleeved shirt taking them trick-or-treating. On Thanksgiving, Allie wore a short-sleeved dress with no socks or tights.
Nick even wore short and a t-shirt to get the Christmas tree the first weekend in December last year.

So, now as we're about to welcome October, I'll reminisce about the nippy fall days of the past when I loved to make tummy-warming chili and bake a cinnamon-infused apple crisp on October Sunday afternoons as the voices of NFL commentators volleyed in the background (OK -- that part hasn't changed in Phoenix).

And as I reflect on autumns past, I'll light my Yankee Candle Spiced Pumpkin candle and watch the kids run through the sprinklers.

Photo of the Day

UP FOR GRABS!

There's one more photo I have to share from Nicky's 8th birthday party. Brett was hurling the football out over the pool as the kids took turns trying to time it just right to leap out and catch it. This time around three of them tried to be the victorious receiver ...

Nicky turns 8!

Yea, I know it's been like forever since I last posted. But somehow with the massive amounts of homework inflicted on poor Nick routine of school and soccer settling in, and birthday parties and visiting parents, and grocery shopping and cleaning and making meals and endless loads of laundry and cutting out butterflies and playing with pirate ships, the spare chunks of time seem to get eaten up like Tina Fey gobbling up Emmy awards (I guess I need to start watching 30 Rock).

So the big news in the Dawson household over the past couple weeks has been Nicky's 8th birthday. I guess I should correct myself -- "Nick." Nicky decided when we moved to Arizona that he wanted to be called Nick, rather than Nicky, which was what he went by in kindergarten and first grade in Elk Grove.

Not because it sounds more grown up, mind you, but, he readily confessed, because it's one less letter he has to write when doing schoolwork. Classic Nicky ... yes, he's still Nicky around here.

Anyway, my Mom and Dad came out to visit. We took the twins to the zoo, they got to see Blake's soccer game, they went to the twins' gymnastics class, they watched the kids while Brett and I went out on a long overdue date night, we all went out to dinner one night, and they were here for Nick's birthday festivities.

Nick's birthday, September 17, was a Wednesday, so he opened his family gifts and had cake that night.

His brothers eagerly helped him open his gifts (Legos and building toys, his thang):

A happy boy with his roller-coaster K'Nex (not sure why it looks like Zach is pulling his pants down ... I don't remember that happening ... but it very well could have)

Not sure what Blake's doing ... casting a spell on the cake? Who knows.

Eight candles?! Even Nicky can't believe it

Then on Sunday afternoon Nicky invited a few friends over for a backyard party, including THE game of games for Phoenix 3rd graders -- tetherball.

Then, since it's still hovering a tad above 100 (I'll complain more about that in a future post), the boys spent some time in the pool, including playing King of the Hill where they try to push each other in from the top step of the pool (lovely, eh?). Then Brett set up the volleyball net for a little team-on-team action, with Grandpa joining in.


Then the kids graciously sat still for a few seconds so I could snap a group shot ... and then the silly pose.


Hard to believe our little Nicky is already 8. I think whenever a child's birthday rolls around a mother replays the events of the day of the birth in her head. I vividly remember that warm Indian summer day when my 8 lb, 9 oz baby arrived. While ultrasound techs had placed odds on the baby being a girl during my pregnancy, they were proven wrong. I was stunned for several minutes when someone shouted out "It's a boy!" It's a what?? Luckily I didn't paint the room pink or cover the house in lace or anything. Anyway, it all worked out just as it was supposed to. My life wouldn't be complete without my playful, adores-to-build roller coasters, tetherball-fanatic, doesn't-complain-about-the-homework, picky-eating, hates-to-go-to-bed, sweets-loving, piercing-blue-eyed, freckled-faced son.

Happy Birthday, Nicky. You brighten my world.

From the Mouths of Babes ...

On the way to Zach and Allie's gymnastics class recently. Scrambling to get sandals on and out the door.

Me: "Ok guys, let's go potty before we go."

Zach obediently darts into the bathroom. Allie remains on the floor, sandals on the wrong feet, her dalmatian Webkinz in hand, ready to accompany us on the 5-minute journey to the Little Gym.

Me: "Come on sweetie. You, too. Let's go potty."

Allie, in her most exasperated, matter-of-fact voice, enunciating clearly so she's sure I get it: "Mommmmyyyyyy ... I went potty yes-turrr-day."

A slice of summer