Today was a great day. We are headed to Vegas for a week on Monday, so the boys helped me clean the house really well, and do a ton of laundry. I always get ornery when I clean, because I feel it is a fruitless labor. I had to strap Emma in her high chair, while I mopped, so that she wouldn't slip on the floor, or track crap onto it, but then she just threw pieces of her string cheese all over the floor. The boys had to keep walking on the floor to tell me important "secrets", i.e "Tell Dylan, I get the blue plate for lunch." Anyway, I did my part.

It got pretty warm, later in the morning, so we went outside to play. We were so happy to see some lawn poking through all the snow, so we decided to play baseball. Both boys love to have the waffle ball pitched to them. I make Dawson stand at least 10-15 feet away, because he aims for me, and he can hit really hard. Dylan decided to field for Dawson and stood behind me, staring at the clouds and smelling his mitt. He said that his mitt smelled like Lake Powell, which I attribute to being made out of the same material as his life jacket. Anyway, Dawson missed a few balls, and Dylan kept razzing him, yelling at him to hit some balls to him. Dawson got really frustrated and started to hit the ground with the bat when he would miss. I went over and we had a little talk about how it was supposed to be fun, and I said, "sometimes I don't get every pitch perfect, we just have to be patient with each other." So we continued playing, and when Dawson missed another ball, he came running up to me and gave me a big squeeze around the legs and said, " I am sorry you're such a terrible pitcher mom."

We had our usual movie night, and watched 'Surf's Up,' with the boys', then Dave and I watched, 'I Am Legend,' which I quite liked, although I was a little nervous going to bed. I checked the doors a couple of times.