If a baby falls in the woods, does he make a sound?

The answer is yes, and it is loud.

It is my deepest desire to raise my children outdoors as much as humanly possible. I am one of those people who could live outside, and I notice a serious difference in all of our moods when the weather takes a turn for the better and we can spend most of the day in the back-a-yard. For those who may be looking to get the boys something useful? Galoshes. I have some dedicated puddle-splashers. Just this very morning, as we were headed to the car, running late for Jacob's doctor's appointment (more on that later), Isaac takes a shine to a puddle near the porch and jumps in it full-force, soaking his shoes, socks, and jean-bottoms completely through. And how can I be mad? Puddles rule. (**update: at my own urging, I just bought some rain boots for the fellers. Go eBay!)

I took the boys on a hike on Sunday to enjoy the (then) luscious weather and to leave Dada alone with his precious and unending home improvement projects. Though I didn't know it at the time, this was the beginning of our group illness, and Jacob was unusually unwilling to walk. I carried his lard butt up and down the trail. Here is Isaac, getting impatient with Mommy and Baby Slowsky.



Both boys, in their boy-like nature, discovered the wonder that is The Hiking Stick:


We walked to Cattail Pond, named by someone perhaps related to Captain Obvious. Therein we saw two ducks flying away, frogs, more sticks, perhaps a few cattails, benches, and lots and lots of puddles. It's enough to almost drive a girl crazy with laundry, I tell you. But to encourage a deeper fascination with our local park and its offerings, I bought Isaac some books for his birthday about frog and duck life cycles.

So, here we are a few days later, and we are all sick, again. Not that sickness ever really left, since little people have a special talent for hanging on to coughs and runny noses far past a virus's expiration date. Jacob spent the mornings of the past two days screaming basically nonstop, and the remainder of the day screaming if I was removed in any way from his line of sight. I took him to the pediatrician at lunch today to see if there was anything that could be done, but she said he was clean of raging infection, and there was nothing to do but shoot him full of Tylenol and hope for the best. And just like last time, to add to the fun and unrelenting pain, he is also cutting his fourth primary molar. Lucky for us, help comes in the way of Meemaw and Poppop, who arrive tomorrow to help us celebrate some big occasion happening this weekend. No, no, not Easter! You have to go to church for THAT. I mean Isaac's third birthday, hooray!!!