Oh to have the imagination of a three-year old...or the energy. Cale has finally hit the stage of pretend play. We started out the night with a pretend circus. I walked into the TV room to find every cushion and pillow off of our couch and thrown on the floor in a messy pile. Cale then informed me that it was a circus and I had to sit down and watch the show, which of course I did. Then, after applauding his efforts, he told me it was my turn. So, I gave a few sad attempts at what I called "flips" and he cheered and clapped as if I was a regular acrobat. You gotta love that child-like admiration. I'm trying to soak up every minute he loves me and thinks I'm kinda cool, because I know in a few years I will be so much less than cool to him.

After convincing Cale that we had to close the circus down, he decided he wanted to be a "baby". Being a sappy mom, I have to say I was eating this up. He crawled around on the floor and made cute little baby sounds. Then, he got the idea that to really portray a baby, he would need a diaper and a baby shirt (aka onesie). So, thinking this would be pretty funny (and maybe even bring back a few memories), I cradled him in my arms and took him to Keaton's room. He lay on the floor, much too eager to get his baby diaper put on. After squeezing into the diaper, he squeezed even harder into a onesie. With a little work, I finally got it buttoned. He looked like a 3 feet tall baby with long, skinny legs.

He was way too geeked up about being "the baby". Carl and I played along for about 10 minutes: putting Cale in Keaton's crib, rocking him, putting him in the high chair...you get the picture. But, eventually we lost interest. Much sooner than Cale did. He continued to crawl around and crying "wahhhh". Then, he came up to me and said, "Mommy, you need to change my diaper. I poo-pooed." Wishing he would give up the act already, I distractedly played along and said, "Oh no, the baby's got a dirty diaper!". But, Cale was pretty persistent. And that's when I smelled it. And then I looked. Cale, with the strangest look on his face said, "Baby pooped in his diaper." After he said it, he looked gave me an inquisitive look, as if to see how I was going to react to this news. Let's just say it wasn't cute anymore.

In disbelief, I scooped him up, regretting the baby idea ever happened. I stopped by the playroom to give the news to Carl. As I was holding a stinky, much-to-big-to-even-wear-a-diaper Cale in my arms and telling Carl what our son had done, Cale said "I'm peeing on myself right now." And he was.

Maybe we have a future actor in our house. He was willing to get his "hands dirty"...well, other areas dirty, for a role. Don't the best actors become their character?

Oh, who am I kidding, I think we just have a little boy who was looking for a chance to poop on himself and not get into trouble.

Moral of the Story:

Diapers are NOT toys.

2011 Recap

Well, I figured I better write one last post, to close out the year. I've definitely fallen off the bandwagon of blogging. But, at least I'll end with a bang. Or a blog. A lot has happened this last year, which in some ways feels more like a few months and in some ways feels like forever. Fifteen days into the new year, we gained an addition to the family: Keaton Gray Kirtley. And what an awesome addition he has been, I must say. Keaton is such a fun, cheerful baby. He is easy going most of the time, although he does have quite a temper when he does not get his way. Like at bedtime when he thinks he isn't sleepy. And in the car when he finds it appalling that he is strapped to the "electric chair" we like to call a car seat. Besides the occasional temper tantrum, Keaton is truly a great baby. He almost never fusses, nothing that food or cuddle won't immediately cure. He is playful and very generous with his smiles. Before Keaton arrived, we wondered how we could love another as much as Cale. It was easy. 2011 wouldn't have been the same without 'ole Keater-pie.

This year Carl and I ran our first 10K, which may not sound like much to all you runners out there. But, it was the most I had ever ran before and probably the most I ever care to run, if you must know the truth. Yes, running is rewarding, after the fact. But, my comfort zone is about 2 miles. Much more than that and I start getting grumpy.

Cale stopped wearing diapers this year! And it was relatively easy, with the help of M&M's. We're still doing the night time pull-up as a safety precaution, but other than that he is going to the bathroom like the big boys. Except he still needs to work on his aim. And not getting side-tracked while he's peeing. I've been forced to become much more diligent cleaning the toilet...and the wall behind the toilet...and the tile beneath the toilet...and the stepstool Cale stands on...yes, maybe 2012 will bring more bathroom accuracy for him.

Carl put a zip-line in our backyard, along with a playground that he helped my dad build. We spent much of our time this summer out at that play park, as we call it.

I started a new job as a library media specialist at Dwight, which aside from having Keaton, is the most exciting thing that happened for me in 2011. I love my job now and am so lucky to be in this position. Really liking your job makes such a difference on your overall attitude. Carl says I complain much less often now. Like never. Now I only complain about him.

Cale started Noah's Ark in August of this year. We decided that it was time to get Cale's name on the list for preschool. We figured it would be several months until they had a spot available for him. But, two days after I filled out the paper work, we got a call saying there was an opening. So, we had to make the hard decision to leave our wonderful babysitter Nonna, and start a new school. It was a hard transition for Cale. He has become shy and uncertain in the latter part of this year. So, being with people he didn't know was especially hard, along with the different routines/structure of preschool vs. in-home child care. He cried when I dropped him off for awhile. And became incredibely clingy. But, it didn't take him long to fall in love with his teacher Ms. Amber. I literally mean "fall in love". He developed a bit of a crush on her and was highly offended and jealous when he saw a picture of she and her husband. So funny!

Just when Cale was really getting settled into his classroom and very comfortable with his teacher, they moved him up to the next classroom. So, we went through the whole crying/clinging thing again. Feeling comfortable is everything for Cale. He can't function until he's "comfortable". Gosh this child may end up being too much like me I'm afraid. But, after about a month, Cale began feel at ease with his classmates and began to really like his new teacher, which we refer to as the "New Ms. Amber" because her name is Amber, too! She's his comfort zone at school now. If she's there, we're good. If she's not, Cale gets nervous. Overall, Cale really likes school and has made lots of new, special friends.

We took many train rides this year. It started with a special train that came to Russellville last January, the zoo train, several Silver Dollar City train rides, and ended with a Christmas train ride early December.

Yes, this year was the year of trains. Toy trains, train videos on the Ipod, train movies, train shirts, food lined up like trains...you name it. Maybe next year will bring a new obsession. Something other than trains!

Keaton decided he couldn't let the year end without learning to walk. Right before Christmas he started toddling and is now walking all over. He's been getting into everything already and I'm sure walking will enable him to find even more mischief. I will just be glad when he doesn't have to taste everything in sight. It is tiresome and worrisome keeping track of what goes into his mouth. I've had many near panic attacks as I've found Keaton with random things in his mouth. But, he's still alive. So, we've done okay.

Being a family of four has made 2011 a great year. I wonder what 2012 has in store for us? Hopefully more sleep...please, more sleep.

The Mouse

Okay...this mouse is killing me. And I'm praying it's mouse and not mice.

I've always hated mice. I'm not really that scared of them because I know they can't actually hurt me. It's just the idea of a smelly, furry, rodent sneaking around my house, hiding in unexpected places that bothers me. I have been tortured by many a mouse in my day. Mentally tortured. To the point of sleeping with my head, arms, feet, completely under the covers, sweating, because I envisioned the mouse crawling across me at night. I'll never forget when I was young one winter, we had been finding mice in our house. I started fearing that a mouse would get in my bed while I slept. My parents assured me this couldn't happen. But, then a few days later I found mouse droppings on my windowsill, right by my bed. That's when I started sleeping completely under cover. And practically suffocating. I was so disturbed by the thought of the mouse crawling around my room that I wouldn't sit on my floor or place anything of importance on my floor because I knew a mouse had been crawling there. I even thought I could smell him. Seriously. This went on for awhile. You don't know how much sleep I lost. Maybe the disturbing thing was how horribly disturbed I was by the mice.

Well, I would like to say that now that I am an adult, I have grown up when it comes to mice. And I actually thought that I had. That is, until we got a visit from a mouse. Saturday morning, Carl spotted him racing across the carpet in our TV room. That's when my world came tumbling down. My nice, clean house...infested. Sure, our house isn't that clean. I'm sure our floors our covered in baby spit up and human waste (from babies) but it least it's our mess...not the mess of an univited guest. I spent Saturday watching every step I took fearing I might see the mouse.

I made it through the day okay, but night time was a different story. I know it's irrational, but I'm not the most rational person. I placed all nine of our throw pillows on top of our dresser, instead of the usual messy pile on the floor. And I'm not crazy. I failed to mention that after seeing the mouse on Saturday, I was putting fresh sheets on our bed. After getting the sheets on, I pulled the comforter back on...only to see a black speck attached to it. A speck which I am 99.9% sure was a mouse pellet. See, I just knew they crawl on me in my sleep. I had an awful time falling asleep at bedtime. I'm almost positive I heard the mouse rustling in our room. Then, when Keaton woke up in the middle of the night, I climbed out of bed and am almost certain I felt the mouse brush against my foot. I screamed and turned on the light and I'm pretty sure gave my husband one more reason to think I'm crazy.

So, tonight we stopped in Wal-Mart to get some ammunition for this problem. We stuck a sticky trap behind our fridge (when I say "we", I mean Carl...when it comes to mice I am completely hands-off) I had to work hard to convince Carl to buy sticky traps instead of the regular kind. His argument was that you have to keep buying more sticky traps because you only use them once. My argument was if he thinks I'm going to allow him to keep used and bloody mouse traps somewhere in my house, he's crazy.

So, we finally got the kids in bed and were sitting in the living room watching TV. Suddenly I heard the familiar rustling sound that I heard the night before. See I just knew it was a mouse last night. Then, we heard the squealing. Squealing and squealing, and more squealing. Very disturbing. The mouse was caught. I had wanted nothing more than for that mouse to die. But, I must say the squealing, suffering mouse made me feel a little bad. It probably wouldn't have been so bad except that Carl refused to do anything with it right then because it wasn't dead yet. He must not have understood how it was killing me inside to have a dying mouse behind our fridge. So gross. So, we watched the remainer of our show amidst the random rustling sound and moaning of a caught mouse, trying to free himself.

Seeing how we live in the country, I'm afraid I'm going to live a tortured life, if I don't get this issue of mine under control. Oh, and I failed to mention that I found mouse droppings in Keaton's book basket by his crib. Let's just say he didn't get a story tonight. Even my sweet little baby isn't safe.

My goodness, it's been way too long. A lot has happened in the past month, much of which I can't even remember. Seems I'm remembering less and less these days and even my mass of sticky note reminders stuck in various, should-be obvious places, are being overlooked. I can't remember to look at my reminders. I blame it partly on starting school and being in a new position, of which I love by the way. I blame it more-than-partly on my eight-month old and nearing three-year old which have been draining every last brain cell that I have...and they are already few and far between. And lastly I guess I blame it on forgettful genes...my dad, not my mom. Life has been...busy and not allowing for much of anything extra.

Back to the kids. Cale has started Noah's Ark which has been an experience. Mostly a good experience, except that Cale has chosen this time in his life to become clingy and unsure of himself. So, many mornings have resulted in me prying him off of my legs as I quickly shut the door while he screams. Great way to start the day. (And it's not just at preschool. It's church, bedtime, naptime, etc.) But, he has been doing better the past week or so at Noah's Ark. Nothing that a little candy-bag-for-not-crying bribe each afternoon and having his best bud and cousin Kenzie ride with us to school, couldn't fix. It's shameful that I've resorted to bribing with candy, but I'll take shameful bribery over screaming and clinging any day. Each morning Kenzie and Cale walk in holding hands and stay that way for the first few minutes of being at school. It's pretty sweet.

Since my last post, Cale had a two-week long monster transformation. I don't mean monster as in "big", I mean he literally became a monster. He screamed and cried a constantly throughout the day, didn't want to go to school, woke up screaming and kicking several times a night, and just completely wasn't himself. I kept trying to get him to tell me what was wrong, but all I got was wailing. Finally we took him in to the doctor and found out he had a bad throat infection. After being on medicine for several days, his behavior did not get better. In fact, he got worse. I was beginning to think this was a phase he was in, and that disturbed me. Each day at school Cale's teachers were telling me that he cried a lot, refused to eat lunch (for about a week), and just wasn't himself. He was even sent home one day because he wouldn't stop crying. Finally he began telling us his teeth hurt. I looked inside his mouth and sure enough...it was the King-Kong of teeth...the two-year molars. I guess I thought those had already come in. I should've known better. There's not a tooth in that boys head that didn't come with pain and torture (yeah, I'm sure it hurt Cale, too) ;) So, we loaded him up on Tylenol and Ibuprofen for several days and he finally got past it, for the most part. He's still pretty clingy and almost impossible to get to sleep..."Lay with me...I want a drink...I'm scared...I think there's a tiger in my bedroom." One of my favorite excuses came about 11:00 one night. He woke up screaming and crying and when I finally calmed him down he said he wanted a drink. I told him no and he said, "...But I want milk. My bones are hurting and they are about to break". Back story...he hasn't been wanting to drink milk lately so I've been trying to coax him into drinking it by telling him how strong it makes his bones. So, what could I do but give him some milk. This boy is killing me.

Keaton is crawling all over the place now and pulling up on everything. He's been caught eating the toilet brush at least two times now. So that's where we are right now. I would move the brush, but there's just no good, handy place to put a nasty toilet brush and I feel like the best place is beside an equally nasty thing...the toilet. I just can't bring myself to put it on the counter or even on top of the toilet. I have issues about toilets and the tools we use to clean them, I guess. Keaton has also had ear infections for about a month and a half now. We have had four doctor visits and are now on our fourth different medicine. Next step will be a visit to the ENT, if his ears haven't cleared in about another week. Poor little guy has definitely been fussier than normal and not sleeping too well, but overall he's still a trooper.

Mr. Keaton has developed a temper in the last few weeks. He goes into a full-on screaming fit when things don't go his way. My sister said she read that at eight months you can start to really see a baby's personality. Up until then, you can't really tell. Darn it...he hit the eight month mark about 6 days ago. Hope there's not a correlation! But, in his defense his ears have been hurting for far too long now and he's cutting his second tooth. Those two things would be enough to make any of us have a temper, I suppose.

I can't believe how fast time is flying. It's almost October, Cale will be three in a few months and before long Keaton will be a year old. And I can barely keep up already. But, we are beginning my favorite time of year: Fall! So, I am going to try to slow down and enjoy it, one pumpkin at a time.

What a Day

Wow. Today was one of those days when I just wanted to pull my hair out...and I actually think I tried to at one point. It started out okay. I woke up on time, was able to get ready without any major catastrophes, and even got the boys ready on time. Things were going my way. Until I pulled out of my garage. I had to drive Carl's truck today because he took my car in to get an estimate with a body shop (I got rear-ended a few weeks ago) I hate driving his truck. It's fairly big, which makes things like parking...which I am already hideous at...even harder. Plus, it's really hard to get the boys in and out of the truck. Plus, I kinda feel out of character in it. Like a tough, deer huntin' and muddin' kind of girl. Not that there's anything wrong with that, but it's far from me. Plus, you have to turn the key in the ignition about three times before it actually starts. Which is quite embarrassing because of the awful squealing sound it makes when it won't start. But, he was doing me a favor by taking it in for me, so I didn't complain. Except here on the blog. Anyways, I turned the truck on, threw it in reverse, and gunned it. I admit I do kind of like hearing the loud pipes roar. Kind of makes me feel powerful. Or redneck. Well, the sound of the pipes were followed by a crash. I had failed to remember that when I'm pulling out in Carl's truck, I have to pay close attention to the side mirror. This resulted in one less side mirror on Carl's truck. Sad thing is, the is not the first side mirror which I have decapitated.

It was shattered and left dangling by a small wire. I sat there with the truck running, contemplating telling Carl now or later. I decided there's no time like the present. So, I called him and told him to come outside and that he was going to kill me. When he came outside, he had a disgusted look. But, it seemed he was looking past me. In the side mirror drama, I had failed to notice that ten panels of our fence were now scattered across our yard, instead of standing nicely in a row like fences do. As if that wasn't bad enough, our basketball goal was snapped in half at the base. (we had a windy, stormy night last night) What a moment for me to show Carl the mirror. He didn't really have much to say except that we had about a thousand dollars worth of damage on our hands. Sweet.

So, I got to school in a fairly grumpy mood. Things just got worse from there...most of which I am not going to explain because requisitions and purchase orders would probably bore you to death. By lunchtime I was feeling a little better. I had an email from a teacher that was wanting some specific books checked out. My day suddenly brightened. "This I can do!", I thought. So, I gathered the books and even put them in this cute little cart that I haven't had a chance to use yet. I happily headed down the hallway to deliver her books at the other end of the building. Most of our hallway is hard floor except when you get to the first grade area. Well, now I know my cute little cart cannot make the switch from hard floor to carpet successfully. No, the little piece that seperates the two different floor surfaces was too much for the little cart to handle. It suddenly toppled forward, taking me with it. I landed on my belly, on top of the cart. The twenty-five books were sprawled out all over the floor. I jumped up immediately and looked around. The hallway was clear, so that was a relief. There had been no witnesses to my clumsy fall. I guess that was one positive thing from the day.

Oh, and I failed to mention that last night was the precursor to today's events. Yesterday evening as Cale was playing with the dollar store helium balloon I bought for him, I suddenly heard a loud sound. The balloon had become tangled in the fan and somehow caused the bowl that was covering the lights to shatter. So that great dollar store purchase has now cost us about forty dollars. Sweet.

Oh well, there were some good points in the day. Like when Cale climbed in our bed this morning to watch cartoons because the storm had woken us all up earlier than usual. Or when our babysitter opened the door this afternoon and I got to hear Cale happily screaming, "Mommy! My mommy!" as he hugged my legs. Or the moment when I scooped Keaton up in my arms to take him home from Nonna's after being away from him all day. Or the moment when Cale came running back in Keaton's room because he forgot to kiss his "brudder" goodnight and tell him a very sincere and sweet, "I love you". I guess those were all pretty good moments. They kind of out weigh the bad.

My blogging has been hit or miss these days. More miss, lately. I feel like I've left out many good things from the summer, but I guess that's the way it goes. I'm back at work now...my official first day was last Monday. I'm in the library this year, which is why I started a little early. I'm absolutely loving it so far, although I am a bit overwhelmed with the newness of everything. I hate not knowing how to do things. But, I'm learning and I think that is what I'll be doing all year.

Over the summer I had forgotten about how hard it is having everything "together" once school starts. Not that I ever have it all together, but more so in the summer and on weekends. Getting home at 4:30, wanting to just play and love on the boys (which I do) but also needing to start dinner and put away the laundry or empty the dishwasher that I left on earlier in the morning. And speaking of mornings...they are brutal. The alarm clock rings at 5:15, shortly followed by the sound of a crying six-month old; rushing out of a pitiful excuse for a shower to go get the crying baby; making a bottle and moving the bouncy chair into the bathroom in hopes that the 'now-somewhat-able-to-feed-himself' baby Keaton will be content while I get ready for work; Chasing a 2 1/2 year-old around with shorts and a shirt because he NEVER wants to get out of his pajamas or leave the house in the morning. This usually results in kicking and tears on Cale's part, once I catch him, and disheveled hair and wrinkled clothes on my part. Sometimes I want to kick and cry too, but I refrain. I must admit, some days it's almost a relief to get in the car and drive to work. But, twenty minutes after being there, I'm already missing them. Strange how that works.

Keaton is almost seven months old now. He actually started crawling a few days ago. He's been rolling and making his way around a room for awhile now. But, now he's actually crawling. Even if it's crawl, crawl, splat. Crawl, crawl, splat. Overall, he's such an easier baby than Cale. He's pretty chill and is content to be laying on the floor chewing on toys or anything else he can get his hands on...flip flops have been a big hit this summer, when he can get one without my knowing. Poor little guy has even had a double ear infection, probably for a few weeks. But,the sweet little thing never really fussed. He just stopped eating his bottles and this was a pretty good sign that something was wrong. The kid eats who knows how many 7-8oz. bottles a day. Along with three jars of baby food.

It's funny, with Cale I knew on average the exact number of bottles he usually ate in a day. I had certain times I tried to do things such as nap/feeding. I attempted a schedule, even though I'm pretty sure I needed a Zanax throughout the process. With Keaton, I'm going with the flow. I have no idea how many bottles he eats in a day and I'm not really sure how many naps he has a day. Pretty much naps every 2-3 hours...so I guess I could do the math. Throwing the attempted schedules out the window has made me a much happier mama this time around.

We're so happy that Keaton has been the easier baby. I don't know what we'd do if this wasn't the case.

Cale. Our dear, sweet, in-a-constant-state-of-agitation, two-year old boy. How he can be a such an adorable, charming creature one second, and a completely unrecognizeable, horrifying creature the next? His tantrums really are reminiscent of the Hulk. It's like, I can see the transformation taking place. He starts to scream and then begins to change form. It's all there but the turning green part. He turns more of a shade of bright red. I often wonder what it must be like to feel so irritated all of the time. What goes on in the mind of a toddler?

We've really been having a difficult time getting Cale to bed these days. I mean it's like an hour long process. We do the bath, read a book (cale tries to persuade us into reading multiple books to avoid sleeping), talk, say our prayers...and then say our goodnights. Cale is already set in his rituals and we have to say the same thing every night. And if one little thing is left off, that's an excuse for him to get out of bed and come to us. And because I don't want to forget this years from now, it goes like this, "Night, night Mama. Love you. Sleep tight. Talk about your adventure." Absolutely no idea where that last one came from, but it must be said. And I respond, "Night night, Cale. Love you. Sleep tight. Don't let the bed bugs bite." And then I leave. Usually .05 seconds after I'm gone, the wailing begins. And usually .20 seconds later the door busts open. We go through this about four times a night.

I've really been trying to crack down on this. I've even been standing outside of Cale's room, waiting to snatch him up when he comes barreling out. The other night I did just that. I scooped him up before he even had a chance to argue. I put him in the bed without saying a word and headed quickly outside. I stood outside his door, expecting him to come out once again. He's pretty persistent. Instead he sat in his bed, crying and talking to himself. I heard him say, "(sniff, sniff) Pooooor Cale. His mama is a meanie. She's a meanie weenie." This is the first time I've ever heard him call me a name. I couldn't believe it! I opened the door and said, Cale, what did you just call me?" He nonchalantly replied, "A meanie weenie". I actually thought it was quite funny but kept a straight face as I asked him why he called me that. He said that he was just coming out of his room because he had to poo poo, but I grabbed him and put him back in bed and he was mad at me." I felt kinda bad at this point because he actually did need to poo poo. But, I guess it's kind of like the boy who cried wolf. He leaves his bed so many times with some crazy excuse and the time he really needs to leave his bed, we don't believe him.

A side note about Cale. He really doesn't like strangers talking to him right now. Or looking at him for that matter. He often hides behind my legs and gives the evil eye to anyone who acknowledges him. Tonight at the park, there was a young couple there hanging out. They were smiling and watching Cale play. (Only about 5 feet away from couple) Cale meanly says, "I don't want those people looking at me!" It was quite embarrassing. We usually just use the "He's in the terrible twos" excuse for everything. What happened to my, talk-to-anybody-and-everybody little guy? Instead he saves it all for us. And when I say all, I mean ALL, as in all-the-time. He never hushes. Never. And to think, Carl and I have the nerve to try to have a conversation with each other in the car. Nope, not happening if Cale's around. I'm pretty sure he's just like his daddy. Even though he's a handful right now and probably will always be, I wouldn't change him.

Well, summer break for me has pretty much come and gone. In a blink. And my blogging was pretty much non-existent. I thought I would have so much more free time during the summer. And on a typical summer I hopefully will. But, this summer I had a toddler and a baby. Which both take up a lot of time. I had hoped that I would at least get a free hour or more each day where they were both napping. But, I am beginning to think you have to have some kind of magical power to make that happen.

Each week, the boys went to Nonna's (their babysitter) on Tuesdays and Fridays. On a typical summer, these days would have been my "me" days. But, this summer I spent those days at school trying to get familiar with my library. But, 12 days later=still not-so-familiar! But, hey I'm not complaining. I am so excited about my new job and even if it made me spend a bit more time in my school building than I would have liked to this summer, it is going to my make my school year seem much easier.

This past weekend, against Carl's approval, we went to Silver Dollar City. Don't get me wrong. Carl likes Branson and likes Silver Dollar City...in normal weather. But in the furnace that we call summer around here, he wasn't too excited about going. I tried convincing him by reminding him that there are a few rides where we can get wet. I guess it's obvious that in the end, I won. And it really wasn't too bad. We went up on Friday night, again not Carl's idea. But, I oh-so-dramatically reminded him that we would have to leave so early in the morning if we made it a one-day trip and that would put our already-prone-to-be-moody son Cale in a bad mood. And that's just no good for anyone involved. So, at about 2:00 on Friday afternoon, Carl told me to book a hotel.

We invited Carl's mom to come with us because we thought Cale would enjoy it and she hadn't been to SDC in years. We decided to leave sweet little Keaton with my parents because we didn't think he was up for the heat and I didn't think I was up for toting him around in the hot, black harness all day. We arrived in Branson at about 8:45 Friday night. We decided to hit the Landing before going to the hotel. It's so nice that Cale can stay up later these days, if necessary. When we were just about to the Landing, we noticed Dicks Five and Dime, and remembered what a neat store it was. We also remembered how many tractor toys and tractor memorabilia the store displayed...but we decided to brave the toddler, "I want, I want" fit and go in anyway. Plus, we knew we would probably come out with some sort of tractor, and we were okay with that.

Cale actually did great in the store. We talked him into a very small, inexpensive tractor...which is unreal because there were many big, $40 + tractors that he looked at while he was there. In the end, he was happy with the small one that his Mammaw bought for him...and even more pleased with his purchase when he realized the cab of the tractor was filled with small pieces of bubble gum. Which he chewed all of in about five minutes.

We got to the Landing at about 9:30. We were bummed to see that the water/light show was under construction. But, we found a simple candy store had all the entertainment we needed. The store had a train that chugged along the ceiling (like in Stoby's) and Cale was delighted. I don't think he ever even realized we were in a candy store, even though everywhere you turned there were clear buckets filled with colorful arrays of candy that made me an indecisive mess while trying to determine what to purchase. And seventeen dollars later, we had our bag of candy. And I swear it didn't even feel like a pound. They must make a killing at those places.

On our way out to our car, we heard a train whistle. In front of the Landing is a train track and sure enough, one was coming by. What a perfect end to the night, in Cale's eyes. He plopped himself in the grass for a front row seat in the train passing. We could have left Branson after that and he would have thought it was the best trip.

The next morning, after a breakfast that Cale tried to convince us he didn't need because he was so excited about his upcoming train ride, we headed to Silver Dollar City. We hit absolutely NO traffic...which is amazing for a Saturday going to SDC. We got to ride in a trolly car from where we parked our car up to the SDC gates. Again, could the trip get any better for Cale? We started off with The Great American Plunge, which is a log-ride that leisurely floats you around through several tunnels...one of which was completely pitch black, and then takes you up a giant hill before you make a huge, heart-pumping drop into a big pool of water. Cale was just tall enough to ride and I have to admit I was a little nervous. Carl put Cale in the front too, which made my nervousness just a bit worse. I think I reminded Carl to hold onto Cale about five times, as if he wasn't going to. But, to our dismay Cale wasn't a bit scared.

So, feeling pretty good about Cale's attitude towards rides, we headed to Fire-in-the-Hole (my all-time favorite when I was little) Cale thought it was a train, so he was eager to ride. But, as the ride began, I could tell he was getting a little nervous. And in his defense, what a creepy ride it is. From the old-timey, horror-movie music, to the fake flames...it's pretty intense for little ones. After the ride, Cale (serious-looking, but no tears) said he didn't really want to ride that one again.

After we got home from Branson on Saturday night, Cale was still bothered by Fire-in-the-Hole. He kept telling me that there were monsters and ghosts on the ride. He also talked about a man looking at him while he rode. I think he meant the fake people that are staged throughout the ride. After I spent fifteen minutes trying to convince him that it was all make believe, Cale simply told me, "Mama, don't you EVER make me ride that again!" Sad thing is, I'm sure we will try to coerce him into riding it again when we go back in the fall...unless he throws too big of a fit!

We were so glad to see Keaton when we got back home. It seemed strange only having one kid on our trip. But, I'm sure Keaton had much more fun in the air-conditioning, being cuddled and spoiled by Nan and Pop.

We can't wait until we can go on rides and roller coasters with both of our boys one day. I hope they're both little thrill-seekers. Wait, let me rethink that. When it comes to amusement parks, I hope they are daredevils. But as far as motorcycles, four-wheelers, and fast cars...not so much. I dread those reckless teenage days. Thank goodness I have just a few years with my "little" boys!