I saw a man that I know from the children’s school the other day. He was pushing one of those un-maneuverable racecar shopping carts with his two little boys gleefully air driving in the front.

When I commented on how sweet they looked he retorted, “Yeah, they can be sweet sometimes,” and I couldn’t relate more.

He continued to say what everybody says, “boys are high energy when they are young but girls give you hell when they become teenagers.”

“Really,” I said. “My sister’s and I were relatively easy on our parents,” right Melanie, Mommy and Tutti? (If you haven’t noticed yet, my family often comments on my posts)

He went on to say, “Boys just try to kill themselves by being reckless with their bodies, girls don’t listen and do things that can be life altering,” and that made me feel oh so much better.

The other night, Brevitt and I were wrestling together, he in his red footsie pajamas, a popular trend at school. We lay on top of each other laughing as he smooshed my face into “hilarious” positions and a memory of my sister, Michele, flashed into my head. Her now fourteen year old was five and he was lying on top of her soaking in all of her love and it reminded me that I must hold on to this moment for as long as possible because soon, real soon, Brevitt will not feel comfortable with feeling me so close to him. We lay there forever wrapped in each others arms as he told me a whole lot of insightful information about his friends, school and life in general.

The next day I went to my friends house to pick up my boys. They were playing their favorite sport, dodgeball, down in her basement with her two sons. It sounded as if a sacrifice was being performed. When I went down to check on them a speeding ball whizzed by and landed smack into Axel’s face, which didn’t seem to phase him.

I walked upstairs and asked horrified, “Is this how people feel when they visit my house? Stunned and psychologically disturbed by all of the noise and energy? It is no wonder why I don’t have many visitors anymore.”

As she sat there calmly reading the newspaper, she replied, “I love it….or at least, I have learned to embrace it.”

It is true that quite often I reach a breaking point with my boys and need to tell them that, “mommy is closed”. It is my dysfunctional way of getting a brief respite from all of the chaos.

But I will say this, when I am outside with the boys, or when we are indoors and they are being sweet and calm, they are my entertainment and my companions, filling the house with laughter and there is nobody in the world who I would rather be with.

In two to five years from now they will transform into different beings and I will have to connect with them on a different scale. For now though, I’ll embrace them and all of their energy and wrap them into my arms as much as they will allow, when I’m not reprimanding them for riding their bikes down the enormous ski ramp that Wade built in our backyard. Anybody care to share their Xanax with me????

Oh yeah, the X-Games are here and Aspen is hopping with stretch limos and masses of dudes and dudettes walking around town with to go cups in their hands.

When people ask me if we are going to go to the X-Games I wonder what family with boys doesn’t go to watch these incredible athletes perform death-defying tricks.

We drove to the Snowmass intercept lot and were amazed to see how organized everything was as they herded the 30,000 + people into the lot to take the bus up to the venue.

The boys were dressed as if we were heading to the North Pole. The only thing I forgot were the ear plugs to mute the language of the teens who were never told to curtail their vulgarity when innocent children stood nearby.

We held on for dear life as we propelled forward to Buttermilk, a mountain which under normal circumstances is as gentle as it sounds.

It is true that as we locals raise our children in a place where extreme is the norm, we both revere and loathe hosting the X-games in Aspen as it only helps to fuel the minds of our children with delusional aspirations of achieving the insane.

As we walked through the crowd to watch the big air competition I noticed a young man dressed in a bright green lycra suit who couldn’t process, in his hallucinogenic state of mind, that the steps he had just climbed had ended.  I steered the boys away as he kept climbing to a place that I hope my children never attempt to reach.

The boys had a blast racing around grabbing swag and getting a super cool poster of their names written in graffiti from some of the masters who had become famous from their shaky past lives of obscurity.

The Big Air Competition was too surreal for me as I watched Bobbie Brown fly through the air performing his miraculous  Switch Double Pits To Misty 1260 thinking that these athletes are better to watch than superman as they perform their double corks, whiskey flips and rodeo tricks.

I am certain that every contender flies in their sleep, reaching greater heights as they perfect their tricks while creating names like Big Air Jon Olsson’s Switch Hexelfoot 900 and  I feel reassured that Wade and I made the right decision to stave off one more year of freestyle skiing for our boys.

Brevitt put on his favorite song of the week, Let it Rock by Kevin Rudolph, and we bustled about the kitchen cleaning it up  before bedtime. Suddenly he breathlessly pointed out the window at a young buck standing outside looking in at us.

“He’s so close. His face is almost smashed against the window”, Brevitt said. I told Brevitt of a couple who said that when they play Van Halen all the deer come round the house to peer into the windows. The buck looked like he was about the same maturity level as Brevitt, in buck years with two points on his antlers.

“I think he wants to hang out with you and listen to your music”, I said and continued to say, “If he goes anywhere near my tulip garden in the spring we will be having Venison stew for dinner.”

After all of the excitement the boys and I gargled our salt water over the sink and went upstairs to begin the bed routine. After finally getting everybody to sleep I went downstairs to pump my body up with whole garlic cloves and a good dose of Kick-Ass Immunity Activator by WishGarden to fight off this cold I have. Suddenly by my side was Brevitt taking his vitamins and following me around the kitchen.

“Brevitt. My love. What are you doing out of bed?” I inquired.

Brevit looked up at me with that smile that melts my heart every time and said, “Mommy, the oldest kid should be able to stay up an hour later than the other kids. It’s my right.”

“Well, I just read an article stating that many older male siblings convince their parents that they should go to sleep later than the others and the fact is that they are the ones who need their sleep the most. So off to bed with you.”

“But mommy, I can’t sleep because of the full moon.”

“Don’t use my line”, I told him. “There is a time when all the boy energy needs to go to rest so that I can have time to regroup.”

And so, I ended up taking him to bed and verbally walking him through our calming process.

“You are on a horse slowly walking through a beautiful safe forest, with your cousins.”

“Mommy I don’t like horses and I’d rather be somewhere more fun with my cousins.”

“You are in a safe dark tunnel…”

“Mommy, that’s boring. Make it a cave.”

“Ok, you are in a *(&# cave and your head is getting very heavy. Let it relax into the pillow.”

“Wait, can you start over, I have to itch my butt.”

“Are you done yet Brevitt?”

“No, not yet. Okay, I don’t know why my butt was itching me but I think I’m better. Can you start from the beginning?”

“Stop milking it Brevitt and go to sleep.”

By the time I was finished we were both fast asleep.

I need help here. What do you do to calm your Tween down for sleep?