Our big, nice climbing tree came down last night in the wind. The boys haven't seen it yet, they're at Grammy and Papa Geno's with Sara. I'm not sure if I should cut it up and take it away before they get back, or should I let it lay there on it's side for the boys to see. It's a Wax Myrtle, which is a very common tree here that grows like a weed. These trees can withstand almost any storm, which is why I was so surprised to see this one laying prone when I let Laya (the cat) out this morning. This one's been through a bunch of hurricanes, but I think my pruning is what did it in. It was already listing heavily to the port side, but then I made it too top heavy in an effort to make the lower branches more climbable for the boys. 

Climbing trees is so much fun when you're a kid. I remember seeing every tree as a new conquest when I was young. I wanted to be  like Tarzan or Mowgli in Jungle Book. Any tree could be a secret hideout. If you could just get up inside the canopy, you could escape the real world for just a little while and have your own piece of the planet. Gavin loved to climb this tree. Actually, he just liked to sit in it, about 3 feet off the ground, and look around  the backyard like the king of the world.

Gavin and Garrett mostly used this tree as a race track or train track, whichever vehicle they were currently employing. The long, low swooping branches made for great take off runways for airplanes, too. These boys could play for an hour straight at the tree, and Sara could see them from the kitchen or back door and hear their happy sounds.

Now I'm forced to make a decision. This tree was a big part of these kids' lives. It's almost like a family pet who has passed away. I think I must cut it up and take it away today. If the boys come home and the tree is laying here like a beached whale, it would be very hard to explain. If they come home and the tree is just gone, it would be traumatic. On the other hand, if they witness their own father lopping it limb by limb with a chainsaw, the trauma might be irreparable. 

I know what I can do, I'll make a game of it. I'll explain that the tree is going to the letter factory. I'll label each limb with a letter on a sticky note, and let the boys decide which one gets cut before I do it. They love to show off their alphabet skills. With luck this power of knowledge game will distract them from what is really happening, and they'll feel positive about this old tree's disappearance. Making a game of almost anything negative can be a real great tool when you're faced with a difficult situation! Spelling and numbers rule these boys' world right now. I'll be numbering or labeling each branch on this tree, then the boys will be so excited about which branch comes down next, they won't even know their beloved tree is being decimated. It will be another happy learning activity! Then we'll go find a suitable replacement.

This year's Easter Egg hunt was the first one Garrett actually participated in with enthusiasm and zeal. Last year, at 11 months old (upper photo) he was content to crawl to the first egg he saw and park there with it. Finding no great tastiness in its plastic yellow shell, I'm sure he was wondering what the big fuss was all about. Garrett was a great little crawler. I think he was even maybe an early crawler? I'm not sure, I'd have to ask Sara. What I do remember most was his crazy method of crab crawling on the grass, because he hated the feel of it. Garrett would get up on his handsand feet, sort of tip toe crawling around the lawn. It was so cute - and hilarious. We could probably send it in to America's Funniest Videos and win a prize. I need to learn how to post videos on this blog on my own instead of begging for my wife's help. I'm a carpenter, for Pete's sake. Not a webmaster! Anyway, Garrett didn't get it. Easter Egg, schmeester egg, he's saying.

Gavin was lovin' it though. He knew then and now it is what's on the inside that counts. You've gotta crack it open to find the good stuff! If you can't open it, bring it to dad. I'm more than willing to help for a small tasty fee. These types of events just get more fun each year, I think. As the kids get older, the magic of these events becomes more apparent to them and the anticipation is almost more than they can handle. Last friday night before we went to the church's Easter Egg hunt, Gavin was so excited he barely slept at all. Consequently, that Egg Hunt was fairly overwhelming for him. He got a few eggs, but mostly gazed in awe at the tornado of toddlers around him. Garrett remained focused, capturing eggs and insisting on inspecting the contents each time before plunking it in the basket.

Luckily enough for these kids, we did a smaller, exclusive egg hunt on Sunday. In more familiar territory (the back yard) they were both more in tune with the task at hand. With minimal prompting, both these kids filled their baskets in no time. Next year will be even more fun for me since I'll need to come up with more clever hiding places...