(Brevitt in action)

The boys worship Wade and follow his lead as he clears 720’s
off of every precipice. Or rather, Brevitt clears it most of the time. Axel
perseveres in manic attempts to clear it and Tucker jumps off making all the
appropriate sound effects. We travel from BMX park to ski terrain parks replete
with full face helmets and pads for every sport. When we are home we are all
hip hopping around the house while Brevitt Dj’s. Wade is the lead singer of
their raucous air guitar band. I keep 911 on speed dial.

People often say that Wade has a certain Will Farrell
appeal. This helps in the humor department. The other night, while trying to
commandeer the boys to get ready for bed, I threw a book at him titled, “How to
Redirect Children’s Behavior.” He commented that he didn’t need to read no
stinkin’ book and proceeded to dramatize all he had learned from my painful
parenting classes. In a split second he had the boys dancing behind him,
giggling and performing the bedtime routine, no problem. It is unfortunate that
I have to suffer, alone, the audible groans and apologies I hear when it is my
turn to announce, “Hi, I’m Jillian, a mother of three boys”.  But I don’t need apologies. I love my
boys!

Brevitt was a big, friendly, yellow lab in his previous
life. This has transitioned over to a loveable, entertaining, social, highly
energetic boy. He helps me herd his brothers and he teaches them all the
lessons in life. Axel and Brevitt work together well, most of the time. They
have big imaginations and are always inventing, destroying, wrestling and
creating. 

Axel was Jean-Paul Sartre in his previous life and is a wise old
soul. He is dreamy and passionate and very humorous when he messes with his
older brother.

Currently, Tucker is the one who keeps us on our toes.
Quickly, his boyhood is escalating at all levels. He is always rock and rolling
and following me around the house asking me questions about life; “Are real
snakes stuffed like toy snakes? Why do they call it a tummyegg? (tummyache),
where’s my banero? (bow and arrow).” He also redundantly inquires as to when we
will be blasting off again to visit Grandma in an airplane? I have not yet
decided what he was in his previous life, maybe my father.