My Boys

When times are turbulent and I feel hollowed out, I text my daughter: "Send pics and news of my babies. I am homesick!"

And she sends me--

FHE lesson about David and Goliath

                                     

Of course, that tin foil is the armor and not, as I thought, attempts to ward off alien beams. I like the ankle armor Gunnar (the little one) is sporting. Maybe it is because he has cankles like G'ma Jo. Who knows!

I think Rooster is missing from this picture because it was too embarrassing. Blake is still a good sport and will pose for such silliness.

Gunnar dresses himself in various outfits of power now that he is 5. He is a man who knows himself and what he likes. And he is handsome, though he cut a big patch of hair out of the front just a few days ago. He's cute as sin, but not entirely foolproof.

Rooster is a guest player on a club baseball team this weekend. I don't exactly know what that is all about, but he is excited. I assume it means he is good. His mom is buying him a new bat for the occasion. Something to do with barrels. I am in a fog when it comes to baseball equipment. But I'm proud of you, Rick.

And so I am a LITTLE less homesick for the boys. I still get painful stabs when I go in the garage and see their new bikes hanging there almost unused. When I go out to the orange tree, I long for their help in picking the fruit. I just miss them.

Of course, there are times when they are here that I am exhausted and can't wait for them to leave so I can rest and tidy up. Why is there such a battle? I want them here but enjoy them from afar. It's a tug of war and my heart is the rope.