Springtime, almost.

Signs of spring...oh, how I adore them.  More than I can say.  Mostly because each of our boys were spring babies.  And each year as their birthdays approach, I am always taken aback--although I should see it coming--when we emerge from winter and are confronted by growth everywhere.  The garden, the trees, the grass we've tried to grow in our splotchy yard for years.  But mostly, it's our boys and how they've grown in ways I could not have guessed.  I mean, do they eat weeds or something when I'm not looking?

I had one of those moments on a recent spring-like day when Leo decided to take on his big boy bike (the fact that I ran over one of his training wheels might have had something to do with it). 

After removing the trainers, there was--as far as I could tell--merely a soft whisper of encouragement before he zipped off. 

Charlie and I were rather stunned.  We were poised, ready to jog alongside him to lend a steadying hand.  But it simply wasn't necessary.  I barely had time to put my camera to my eye, he was so fast.  He did not wobble or stop...he rode like he's been doing it for ages, taking on curves, curbs, sidewalks, even menacing older brothers who couldn't believe how quickly he got it--you name it, he handled it.  

Makes me convinced he he was ready months ago when he politely declined to give it a go.  But now?  Now, there is no stopping him.  Way to go, Leo, my goodness.  But slow down.

As for littlest one, who we suspect will be trying out a two-wheeler at least two years before we're ready...I was delighted to see that he had not outgrown his front yard swing.  I am not ready to say goodbye to many baby things that fill our home, though it's hard to reconcile my sentimental urges with my spring-cleaning agenda.  It was a no-brainer with the swing, at least.  It's staying.

I'll say it again.  I love spring.

Sandra