Dirt, dirt and more dirt! That's our world. On one side of our house we have an unfinished garden, perfect for digging, scooping and filtering dirt. The boys have already logged many hours this spring getting as filthy as humanly possible. If I'm not careful about after-dirt-bathing the boys will be sprouting their own greens soon. As much as I love playing with the boys there are days when I would rather not play in the dirt or talk about the names of every dinosaur or Thomas train that ever existed or referee the latest wrestling match. Sometimes I find myself scratching my head and thinking, 'Why do boys play like this? I don't get it?' But those days of pondering are just the beginning...
Any day we'll be expecting our third boy. All of us are excited as can be. O and H talk about 'Baby,' kiss my belly, and look through the drawers of his baby clothes asking which ones they used to wear. Hubby is reminding me to take breaks, which I am trying to do. And I am constantly reminded about the little one I'm carrying every time I feel a kick, a tickle to my rib or the rhythmic beat of baby hiccups. The bags have yet to be packed and the pak-and-play has yet to be set up, but we are ready for one more pair of hands with tiny fingers that will soon be big enough to filter dirt in the back of a dump truck.
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