So only ten weeks left means that it's got to fall. Or at least you'd think. But most of the days around here have still be up in the eighties. I got my hopes up when the weatherman forecasted sixties for yesterday and today, but yesterday was way above that. We'll see about today. I don't mind eighties. Really, that's my kind of weather. The only frustrating part is the variation from morning to afternoon. When we wake up (which is always way too early in my opinion) it's cold. Like long sleeves, pants, and a jacket kind of cold. Close-toed shoes too. But by three in the afternoon, both boys are stripped down to undies/diaper and I'm cranking up all the fans. Speaking of clothes, I just don't know what we're going to do about little Kolbe. The summer time is by far the easiest season to dress him. He can slip in to the size eighteen month shorts and get away with it just fine. Then winter rolls around and pants are required. He's by no means tall, but, at just weeks away from turning three, he definitely needs the length of a 2T. And the waist of an eighteen-month-old. With shorts, the length is not an issue. With pants, it's our biggest problem. When I pull 2Ts on to him, they literally fall down to his knees. Like I can fit my whole fist in there with his tiny waist. The only thing we've found to work are the pants with the adjustable pull tabs on the inside. Old Navy makes them as does Carter's. We stretch that elastic as far as it can go and button it down into place to create the perfect fit. Poor little fella. He's got his grandma Pinkie's genes.
2 Most of our mornings lately have been spent doing this:
And afternoons too. It's the boys new favorite activity. Other than The Wheels on the Bus, of course. But usually a good ploy to divert their attention from their favorite DVD. The little bike that Rudy is on was a hand-me-down from one of my old co-workers who owns three adorable little grandsons that aren't so little anymore. It was Kolbe's until his other grandma, G-ma, bought him the Texas Tech bike from our local grocery store. When Mark's brother and sister-in-law were in town we all went there for breakfast, and when the boys spied the bike, she decided they just had to have one. Actually, she decided they just had to have two, but Mark and I talked her down to one by convincing her we already had a very capable one at home. So Kolb cruises on the larger, Texas Tech model (he's known how to pedal for almost a year now) and Rudy scoots around on the old guy. Fred Flintstone style. They absolutely love going up and down the street on the sidewalk. And of course crossing the road to ride on the other side is always the highlight. Kolbe chooses to remind me that "I looked both ways, Mama. Now I can go." It's a fun way to get some of their energy out, pass some time, and get in a little walking for myself. Next thing I know they're going to be riding real bikes. The kinds that require helmets. Gees, they're growing up fast.
3. This week was Mark's second official week of being on-call. "On call" is hospital speak for "human torture." You know, it wouldn't be that bad if their group of doctors took a typical call schedule. Like each person is on call one or two nights a week. But no.
No, no.
Not Mark's group.
They've decided that each doctor should take a full week of call. Seven straight days of responding to each and every patient that comes in to the hospital that has a complaint even remotely connected to the head, neck, or back. Which means essentially no sleep at all, considering most accidents relating to these areas are from people doing shenanigans in the wee hours of the night or morning. And on top of that, they continue to carry on their regular surgery and clinic schedule as if they aren't on call. I don't know about you, but I think I'd take my chances on paralysis and opt out of the emergency surgery if I knew the person that was operating on me was running on little to no sleep.
Anyway, Mark was completely wiped out on Monday when he came home from work for a bit around five in the evening, and even more annoyed when he got called an hour or so later telling him he needed to come back in. The sky had been threatening rain all day but had never managed to produce anything, so Mark was pleasantly surprised to see this as he left the house to head back to the hospital:
Of course he immediately called me and told me to take the boys out front to see it. By far the brightest, most beautiful double rainbow I've ever seen. I think I could have stood there and stared at it for hours. Just a little reminder of God's presence in the gleaming as well as the not-so-sunshiney parts of lives.
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