It's a family thing.

 This whole pony/horse ridin' business goes waaaaay back on the Vieira side. 

Here is grandpa Vieira as a boy with his horse.

 And here is my sweet Marty on his pony

and a few years later riding his horse, Apache.

 And the third generation of riders:

our Polka, Goose, and Baby Boy.

I know there were even more animals and riders further back, 

but these are the ones we have documented in photos. 

Family Traditions Rock.

Oh, boy.

 I didn't know what to expect in a baby boy toddler. 

After the two girls, I figured it wouldn't be THAT different. 

But I am starting to understand just how boy-ish little boys can be.

 I love that my son prefers rocks to anything else. 

I love that he screams "bahpwah!" or "dada!" when he sees his grandpa or daddy working outside and then finds his shoes to chuck at me until I let him join them. 

I love that he sweats and smells like a stinky little puppy when he has been playing hard. 

I love that when his sisters are frolicking around the yard singing and gathering flowers, my sweet baby boy is busy covering himself in dirt and inspecting the car tires.

The only thing I lament is that little boys have to grow up.

Sunset and other farm stuffs.

 We recently added a pony to our little farm. Dorothy recently read a book that had a horse named "Sunset." She decided that would be the prefect name for our pony, so "Sunset" she became. She is beautiful: a deep honey-brown color with blond mane and tail. Every day we love her a little more.

 Of course Buttercup is still our baby, and Lucy loves on that goat to no end. We have watched her grow from a tiny kid.

 Here are the beautiful farmer girls. Happy as clams out there in the barn.

And here is my little farmer boy. Grandpa taught him how to get a drink from the hose while you are watering. Farm life is good to us.

late date.

My Goose could not sleep tonight. I'm sure the random, heat-induced, 3 hour nap she took this afternoon did not help. What's a mama to do? But secretly, I love when just one of my babies stays up late with me. I love the chance to focus on them and only them. She and I spent about an hour looking at her baby pictures and old home movies, all the while she was snuggled up on my shoulder. Finally, she asked me to sing her a song and carry her to bed like a baby. I was all too happy to oblige. These years sure are sweet. 

Smells like Country.

So this week began with a 14(ish) hour car trip from Massachusetts to North Carolina. Between two cars we had 3 adults and 5 small children. We managed, with as much grace as possible, all the pooping and peeing accidents, the rainy weather, the faulty gps directions, the endless request for treats or something different to listen to. And we made it to our first break in the trip--a quick few hours of sleep at my brother's apartment just outside of DC. The first day was so draining, it actually became comical after a few hours of sleep.

Day two started much better. The skies were blue, there were no complicated roads to navigate. We were doing well. My favorite (read: funny and unnerving at the same time)  moment of the entire trip came when we stopped for gas a few hours into the second leg. I was coming out of the bathroom at the gas station all by myself and had to walk through a group of people talking at the counter. As I started to try and sneak by without bothering anyone, a big black woman stepped directly in front of me, blocking my path, and in a too-sugary-to-be-sweet voice said, "well, heeeeeeeeeyyyy!" I wanted to think she was being kind, so I smiled back and said hello. Then she looked around at her friends and straight back at me, finishing her sentence with a menacing, "Little House on the Prairie." I actually was laughing about it as I quickly pushed my way through the group and made it back outside. It only occurred to me a little while later that it actually was a little scary! I kind of wish I had engaged the comment and told her about our recent addition of a pony at the farm and what vegetables are coming up in the garden. Apparently I exude country more than I thought. Must have been the home haircut and corduroy pants that gave me away:)

But now we are safe and sound in North Carolina. The days of summer sun and swimming, fresh fruit and vegetables out our ears, late bedtimes, and extra treats has begun. And we love it.

Minutes.

Just for the record, here are a few things that happened in the last few months of our lives:

* Dot turned 4!
* Marty and I celebrated 5 wonderful years of marriage.
* I turned 29. What?! Where did my twenties go?
* Lucy turned 3!
* I cut bangs into my own hair. Still wondering if this was a good idea...
*We cut bangs into Dot's hair because she wanted to look like mommy.
* I sheared my first sheep--and lost part of my left thumb in the process. Luckily not too much.
* We tore apart and remodeled our kitchen pantry.
*We moved around our garden plots to make room for a cow--and maybe a pony.
*Asparagus and radish season has come and gone. Lettuce is about to bolt. Summer must be around the corner.
*Ezra became the cutest boy known to man. Oh, wait. That is always.
*Almost lost the goat in a freak fence falling accident. She is pretty much recovered.
*Bought a fourth child...I mean sourdough starter. Seriously, I have to feed that thing almost as often as my children. 

There you go. Now you know what life has brought us:)

Sleeping beauties.

Don't you just love when you find your children sleeping in positions like this?