UNRULY, MISCHIEVOUS, DISOBEDIENT, &&& UNKEMPT

Long time, no see writing!  Have you ever had a moment, an hour, a day, or maybe a half a week just sort of disappear?

This is exactly what I experienced as Easter Sunday suddenly became something that happened almost a week ago and I lost all sense of time and space and calories consumed.

Those Reese's eggs will be the death of me.

I would sum up the past four days with four words: UNRULY, MISCHIEVOUS, DISOBEDIENT, and UNKEMPT.

It has also been possibly the best four days, ever.  Despite a massive headache.  Despite an overload of things to do and bills to pay.  The past four days have revealed to me a whole new world of motherhood. 

Hanson is becoming increasingly mobile and independent, which simply delights his older brother.  They have become partners in crime and the past four days have seen brotherly love in abundance in the Layer household. 

They are unruly.  They leave a path of destruction from one end of the house to the other.  Even my bathtub has evidence of their craziness.

They are mischievous.  What one doesn't think of, the other one does.  I have no idea what language they speak but they are perfectly fluent for each other and somehow despite my many parenting books and television shows they still seem to easily outsmart me.

The are disobedient.  So much so that they even make me regret trying to force them to obey.  You can't keep two boys from being what nature intended: wild, free, and airborne.  I've decided that cushions are more effective than rules.  I give up.

They are unkempt.  Their spirits are both unique and similar, made for each other and yet somehow still special and capable of standing alone.  They do not belong to me.  I am simply blessed to love them and care for them while I have the chance, but I know that one day they will spread their wings and fly, and while I have to make sure they are prepared, who will prepare me for that day?

Like Hanson's hair, these two little lives have taken on a force of their own, which teamed up together are both a chore to deal with and a joy to endure and behold.  They are wild, ferocious curls just bouncing through my day, and no matter how much hairspray I apply they simply will not lay down.  A comb is futile. 

I'm better off to simply embrace the fuzzy mop and join the unruly, mischievous, disobedient, unkempt party that my two boys call life.