A couple nights ago Quinn was taking forever with his bedtime routine. You know how they seem to stretch what should take five minutes into thirty?? He was stalling and stalling and my temper was escalating. The final straw was him deciding to "jump around" in the kitchen with the dog at 10:00 p.m.! I yelled (more like screamed at the top of my lungs): "What are you doing???! GO! TO! BED!!!!" A minute or so later he walks in my room with his arms open wide and says "Goodnight ticked off Mommy" followed by a kiss and a hug. If that had been me as a 12-year-old I would have slammed my bedroom door and laid in the bed stewing about it. And I probably would have still been mad at my mom the next morning. It always amazes me at how quickly they can get over these little spats. They're such forgiving little lads.

This afternoon I was registering Ben for the upcoming spring soccer season. We had discussed the possibility of trying baseball this year so I asked him what his preference was.

Me: "Ben, do you want to do baseball or soccer this spring?"

Ben: "Hmmmm. Baseball. Yeah. Baseball."

Me: "Are you sure?"

Ben: "Well, no, I'm actually going to do soccer. I've been warming up my feet forever."

Smile.