Traffic Jam Monday

I have never before been shopping on Dec. 23rd.

I do not plan to go again.

Give me Black Friday any day.

Yesterday was Traffic Jam Monday.

I'm not sure why, but I did not anticipate the Monday morning two days before Christmas to be quite so busy. It's funny how I expected more people to be at work....even though my husband and I were not.

I think the term for that would be double-standard.

What is crazy is that we weren't even Christmas shopping.  We were looking for a gift for someone who has been known to read this blog, so that is all I will say about that.

But there was definitely an electric charge in the air from those in a flurry to get last minute Christmas gifts.  Customers were getting all fired up that their engraved item might not be done and ready for pick-up before tomorrow.  And the store will only be open until 6:00 p.m. on Christmas Eve? It was as if they were hot that the store neglected to call them and ask what holiday hours would work best in their personal schedules.

Yikes.

Some of the funniest moments of the day were seeing all the men sitting in the comfy chairs scattered throughout the mall.  They looked less than thrilled to be there.

Even funnier was walking into Cabela's and seeing a bunch of women sitting on the furniture at the front of that store.  The people around me may have wondered why I was laughing out loud.

But the most obvious last minute Christmas shoppers were all the males at every jewelry store at the mall.  Seriously, the male-to-female ratio had to be 90:1.  Women across the state will be receiving well-planned, thoughtful gifts of jewelry from their significant others.

I would not be one of them.

I know this for two reasons:
1)  If my husband was buying me jewelry for Christmas, he would have researched, shopped, and purchased it weeks ago.  He's just that guy.
2)  We are impatiently waiting for our new camera to arrive on our porch on this very day.  We are like two kids on Christmas morning.  We have been checking the UPS tracking website daily (or possibly 3 times a day) since we got our shipment email.  We may not leave the couch by the window until it arrives.

I plan to tear into the box the moment it arrives.  Then I will graciously hand the manual to my husband, let him read it word-for-word, and expect him to teach me how to use it. 

Then I will probably be skeptical of something he is telling me, and read the manual word-for-word by myself.

Yep, we are nerds like that.

Merry Christmas Eve!

Snow Much Fun

Corny title, but I couldn't resist. 

I'm pretty sure that phrase is in every scrapbook across the nation.

The boys begged to go sledding this afternoon, so we decided to start Christmas a little early and hauled up a big box from the basement.  They could not figure out why we would be letting them open a Christmas gift today. However, we thought it was a bit crazy to go sledding with one tiny sled when there was another one sitting there waiting for Christmas Day.

We started on the typical 30 minute routine just to get everyone decked out in 12,000 layers of clothing. 

I was the last one out, and when I walked outside, all three males in my family started laughing.

Apparently I need to invest in some snow gear of my own. Wearing my husband's snow apparel turns me into the abominable snowmom. 

My husband's exact words...while he was trying to stop laughing...were, "Don't hate me, but you look like you weigh about 300 pounds."

This is why I love my family.

They are great self-esteem boosters.


Here they are, breaking in the new snow.  Down the hill...

again....

and again.

 

If only there were ski lifts to get back up.

 

 

When traditional sledding gets too boring, we surf-sled.

While mom and dad (especially dad) pray for no broken bones during basketball season.

I Need a Parenting Instruction Manual

This morning my 11 year old didn't want to wait until the pancakes were ready to eat breakfast.

Since it was later than normal, and he is the kid who likes to eat the second he wakes up (which is usually 6:30 a.m.), I told him to grab some cereal to hold him over.

He grabbed the cereal, pulled the sack out of the box (which drives me crazy), ate for a bit, left the sack, left the box, and walked away from table.

This is my first born, type A, analytical, black-and-white, rule-following, justice kid. Shouldn't this personality type just naturally do the right thing?

I, being the observant parent that I am, did not see him make the mess and walk away.

His father walked into the room, and "sighed" his son's name in that parental-I-am-disgusted-right-now sigh.  And then he started to put the cereal away.

I stopped my dear hubby from doing it, and declared that our son should be the one to put it away.

The following conversation ensued:

Me: "He needs to put it away.  It's time we grow up and be responsible around here."

11 year old:  (with a big grin) "Growing up and being responsible is for adults."

Me: (without a big grin) "We are already grown up.  It's the kids' turn to learn how to be responsible."

11 year old:  "No.  We are just here to keep you company."


Oh my.

I will admit, so many comments came to mind.   They may have been along the lines of how much money it costs me to have "company"....or how a good book and a quiet house can keep me company nicely....

Regardless...one thing is obvious.

We have a lot of parenting work to do.

Right after we stop laughing about the kids being here to keep us company.

Blink....And It Is Over

Thanksgiving Break has come and gone.

It is always so slow to arrive....and so quick to fly by.

I was unsure about how this one would play out, but armed with my TENS unit, Kinesio tape, and Advil, we set out for Branson on Tuesday.  My back cooperated with adequate decency.

The GPS, however, did not.

Turns out, it does not know its way to Branson.

It also does not know when bridges are out and 30 mile detours are involved.

Note to self: Do not rely on the GPS.

We eventually made it to Branson and enjoyed a few days away with the family.  It seems that everywhere we went, photography was prohibited, so we have very little proof that we actually did anything on our mini-vacation.

But, we did go here...

 

and saw this...

 

...which was amazing.  We also went here...

and educated ourselves on the events surrounding the sinking of the Titanic.  

I can honestly say that I have never spent Thanksgiving morning touring through a museum.  

However, as museums go, this one was pretty cool.

Here we are discovering which Titanic passenger we were for the morning.  

 

I am happy to report that 10 of the 12 of us survived the tragedy.  

My husband and father-in-law did not fair so well.  They perished when the ship went down.

And in other news....

We attempted some serious Black Friday shopping in the metropolis of Branson.  "We" meaning my dear husband and I.  No one else in our crew ventured out in the madness.  

We have always said that the key to Black Friday shopping is to go with no expectations and be thankful for whatever items you happen to get.  More often than not, we get everything we set out for.

Until this year.

This year was strike out city.

My husband stood outside in the freezing cold for almost two hours waiting to get a camera at Target. He was the first one to arrive in electronics and ask for the camera in the advertisement.  Their answer: "I'm sorry, we didn't get any of those at this store." 

Seriously? If it is in the ad, shouldn't each store at least have ONE?

I had to keep reminding myself...no expectations...no expectations.

Which is a lot easier when hundreds of dollars of savings is not involved!

Aside from those moments, it was a great break with good family time, which is something you can never put a price tag on.

Speechless

Really, I am...

Speechless.

Which is rare for me, because I really like to talk.

Yesterday I posted a facebook status asking for prayers.  My back does not realize that it is only 38 years old; unfortunately, it thinks it is more like 95.  I was scheduled to present at a conference today, and at the time of the post, my preferred mode of transportation was crawling around on all fours.

After that came a flood of friends.

Comments and personal messages filled with prayers.

Phone calls to check on me.

Advice and ideas on what might work for the fastest and best relief.

One friend and colleague called and offered her TENS unit.  She even changed out of her pajamas to drive halfway to meet my husband to give it to him! 

That is what you call going above and beyond.

This morning I was still h.u.r.t.i.n.g.

I called and made an appointment, and subjected myself to some intense chiropractic torture.  Fifteen minutes later I was outfitted with Kinesio tape and wired with electrodes and was sent on my merry way.

I made it to the conference -- late, but better than nothing.

I'm still not sure if that was a smart idea or not. I'm paying the price a bit tonight.

But the second I got there, colleagues swooped in and wouldn't let me carry anything around. 

Really, they are amazing.

And when I got home tonight, there was a message on my answering machine from our pastor's wife offering to come help me do laundry and get things taken care of around the house.

Wow.

This Thanksgiving....I am thankful for caring people. 

You all make me smile.

Best Customer Service Ever

I highly dislike having a problem that requires a phone call to customer support.

I am okay with using the 'Help' button or with chatting with someone online, but when it comes to actually having to go beyond that, I begin to lose hope that we will ever get the problem figured out.

However, my faith in Customer Service has been restored.

Even if the guy who helped me thinks I am a complete idiot.

The scenario unfolded something like this...

At 7:29 this morning, my 11 year old brought his iPod to me.  He was wanting to buy something on our iTunes account. He had a gift card on the account, so I was fine with it.

He was having trouble getting past the security questions, so I took over for him, thinking I would just provide the answers I had entered when we set up the account.

Only the questions that appeared were these:
Who was your first teacher?  I knew that answer, but did not remember selecting that question.
Who was your favorite teacher?  Hmmm.....that could be a few.  Did I really pick these?
Where were you on January 1, 2000?  What?? I knew I had never selected that question.

I put in some answers anyway.

It didn't work.

We tried again.

Same questions....no luck.

So we proceeded to the 'Help' area.  My heart sank when it gave me three options - enter my phone number and someone would call me (yeah, right); set a different time for someone to call (we kind of wanted answers now); or we could call them (it was 7:33 on a Saturday morning, I was sure no one would answer).

I decided to see if someone would actually call us on a Saturday, so I entered our phone number.

Except that as soon as I hit 'Submit', I realized I had entered my parent's phone number.

Seriously? My parent's number??

Yep.  I really did.  Completely on accident.  I have no idea what I was thinking.

I quickly called my mom - at 7:34 a.m. - and told her what I had accidentally done.  She said they just had a toll free call come in (which they did not answer), and the message said they would call back in 10 minutes.

That was FAST.  I assumed it was an automated call, but asked if she could answer the next time just to see what they said to do.  And, if by some chance there was a live person, could she please have them call me?


I felt about 8 years old and 2 inches tall.

Sure enough, less than 10 minutes later, my phone rang.  It was the Apple Customer Service guy.  His first words, "So....I just talked to your mom...."

Can I just die of embarrassment?

He was so nice.  How Jose managed not to laugh at me on the phone, I do not know.

He did NOT, however, say that this kind of thing happens all the time.

In less than 4 minutes he had us all reset and ready to go.

Before 7:45 a.m. on a Saturday morning.

Apple Customer Service rocks.

It is possible...

....that my boys have the best dad ever.

I may be a little bit biased, but he is pretty amazing.

This year we decided to do the birthday celebrating somewhat differently.  The mega kid party was three weeks before the actual birthday, which was a total win-win.  The kids all had some fun party time early in the month, and then the birthday boy still had his actual day to look forward to.  

It also meant that the real b-day was reserved for family only.

Best.decision.ever.

Enter dad.

He decided that this year he was going to surprise the 11 year old with a day of dirt-biking at Milford Lake, which apparently houses some of the state's longest trails.

It was a great idea.

Except...a few days before said birthday, there seemed to be a little problem with my dear husband's dirt-bike.  He hauled it to the shop.  He kindly mentioned that he reeaallllyyyy needed the bike for Saturday if at all possible.

A phone call to the shop on Friday at 5:00 told us that the mechanic had gone home for the day and the secretary had not a clue about the progress of the bike.

On birthday morning, we waited patiently for the phone to ring. Each hour that ticked by was  like a knife in the heart of my husband's well-laid out plans. 

Thankfully, the 11 year old did not question why this particular birthday Saturday morning did not feel one bit different than the other 51 Saturdays of the year. 

By noon, we were scrambling to make a back-up plan.  The corn maze and pumpkin patch became our destination of choice.....and then the shop called at 1:30.  The dirt-bike was ready.  We flew to pick it up, and then headed out for this....

The oldest wanted to the do the corn maze.  The youngest reluctantly tagged along.

 

The youngest begged to ride out to the pumpkin patch and pick out a pumpkin.  Under the guise of money-saving practicality, dad and the oldest stayed back and played pumpkin checkers. The little guy and I nearly froze to death on the hayrack.

 

Then, of course, we had to take in the rest of the festivities.  

Because it just isn't a pumpkin patch experience with lassoing a steer.

 

Or racing on the ropes course. 

 

And then....

Sunday came.  

Trust me, this kid did not care that it was no longer his birthday.

From the moment church let out to the moment the sun set, this was the sole mission.

 He said it was well worth the wait.

 

Hours and hours of trails and jumps.

Although, they did decide to forgo riding the trails that went straight up these cliffs. 

Yes, there were actually trails up those cliffs.  

No, my husband didn't attempt them.

Yes, I am shocked.

I had one seriously tired boy at the end of this day.

But he thinks he has the best dad ever, too.

This Kid

Eleven years.

We all say it, but I have no idea where the time has gone.

This kid was the first to....keep me up all night, make me feel protective love like I had never experienced before, make me pace the floors with worry, and call me mama.

This weekend he turned 11.

Gulp.

This morning I asked him to help me out with his birthday blog.  He groaned and reluctantly asked what I wanted him to do.  I told him all I needed from him was a list of the 11 most important things in his life right now. 

He didn't think that sounded too hard, and in 7 minutes time, this is what he handed me.

1. God
2. Family (Parents, siblings, grandparents, cousins)
3. Friends
4. Neighbors
5. Teachers
6. Sports
7. Motorcycling
8. Drums
9. Camping
10. Farming
11. KU

That pretty much sums up my birthday boy.

I keep staring at that list trying to think of something witty to say, but in reality, it kind of chokes me up. 

No additional words needed.

The Last Hoorah

For several weeks my hubby and I had been debating whether or not to head to the lake for one final weekend before calling it quits on the 2013 camping season. We had our eye on this weekend for a long time.  The calendar was empty and there is no school on Monday, which gives us a day to recoup.

Then along came a little issue called government shutdown.

I am not complaining...the shutdown has not caused an immediate loss of wages for us as it has for many.  This was just a little hiccup in some tentative weekend plans.  The campgrounds we go to are all government run....therefore, all closed.

But I will say, what is bad for the government run parks, is good for the state run parks. 

The place was PACKED.

Due to waiting until the last minute to plan and pack, we arrived in the dark on Friday night.  We seriously could have made a funniest home video moment trying to find a spot and finally backing the camper in with our 10 year old standing at the edge of the driveway guiding his father with his flashlight app on his iPod.

We finally succeeded.  I really wish I would have taken a picture of the event.

Here is a Saturday morning pic of our cozy camping community.

 

The weather was gorgeous...between the hours of 11:00 and 5:00.  Otherwise it was a bit chilly! Too cold to swim, too cold to jet ski, and too cold for early morning bike rides.

However, it was not too cold for this.

I have no idea what it is called.

But we played game after game, running around like fools to push the buttons before our lights disappeared.

My oldest son and I consistently held the two-on-two family championship title.

Not that we are competitive or anything.

My husband may have had a slight disadvantage on his team.

Like the little guy barely being able to reach the top lights.

But a championship is a championship.


We also did a lot of hiking.  We have been on these trails before, and I must say that they are much more enjoyable at 65 degrees than they are at 95 degrees.

The little guy spent most of his time in this position, trying to catch whatever happened to be moving on the ground nearby.

 

Which means we spent a lot of time in this position.  Waiting, waiting, waiting...

The ziploc bag went with him everywhere.  He was on a mission to catch a lizard.  Unfortunately, the bag came home empty, unless you count the buckets of tears he cried at the end of the hike because he didn't catch a lizard.

Thankfully, before the tears, there were some happy moments.

We shared the trails with lots of horses, which made for beautiful scenery.

However, it created a new definition for "watch your step" while hiking.

I am so thankful for these memories with my kids.

On Friday afternoon at 1:00, I was whining about going for the weekend.  I wasn't looking forward to the work that it takes, to being gone from home for the whole weekend, and to the giant to-do list I had yet to accomplish.

However, then I would have missed the laughs...the joy my kids experienced when grandma and grandpa brought the boat out for the afternoon....the game time.....the moments around the campfire....and the minute-by-minute time that I spent with my family. 

Desperate Times...

....call for desperate measures.

The 10 year old is turning 11 in a few weeks.

Due to some weekend conflicts, we are having his birthday party a bit early this year.

This means I need to be ready for 12 fifth graders to blast down the door on Friday afternoon. 

This house is so not ready.

When I shared with my two little cherubs that tonight we would be cleaning up for the party, the oldest quickly informed me that fifth graders do not care if the house is clean.  While he is most likely correct, my assumption is that most fifth grade parents would prefer that I do not lose their children in the clutter. 

And a clean toilet is always a good idea on any given day.

So....tonight I may have pulled out a version of bribery house cleaning.

I told the boys that on Saturday night, their dad and I would be having a movie night.  If they had their rooms cleaned up in 20 minutes, they would receive an invitation to that movie night.  If not, they would have to go to bed while we stayed up and watched a fun movie.

Voila...rooms cleaned in 20.

Next we moved to the living room.  I set the timer and told them that if the living room was picked up and vacuumed before the timer went off, we would also have pizza for movie night. 

We really must be very boring people, because they acted like this was the best thing ever.

After the living room, we moved to the dining room table, which was conveniently covered with folded laundry.  This time I asked them what they wanted to earn next for movie night.  Their choice: pop.

Pop?

These children are seriously deprived.

But, hey, I was good with pop.

We set the timer again, and in no time, the kitchen and dining room were lookin' good.

I must say, I am fairly proud of myself.

The house is pretty clean, and we planned a great family night in the process.

And...I don't have to cook.

It's a win-win for everyone.

20 Years

This weekend was spent reminiscing the good old days of 20 years ago.

Twenty years.  Seriously?

I always thought people who attended twenty year class reunions were stinkin' old.

Now I am one of them.

Back then we all lived within 10 miles of each other.

Now we are in Michigan, Texas, Oklahoma, Iowa, Nebraska, spread across the state of Kansas...and who knows where else.


Back then we were athletes, debaters, brainiacs, cheerleaders, FHA/FFAers, singers, and actors/actresses.

Now we are teachers, coaches, finance guys, stay-at-home moms, EMT's, business professionals, graduate students, skilled laborers, and nurses.

We've come a long way, baby.

But some things never change.

The guy who entertained us in high school by continually running outside to get his books that were thrown out the window during College Prep English still entertained us with stories of breaking his leg while roller skating in full protective gear.

The girl who had us laughing with her amazing acting abilities in high school still had us cracking up with her quick wit and stories of her life experiences.

One of our super-star athletes who was continually given grief about being our one and only hope for a claim to fame was still harassed about his outstanding athletic talent.

And I am sure that I heard the phrase, "You haven't changed one bit..." thrown around to one person or another at least 10 different times.  When it comes to sense of humor, we are one eclectic group of people.

Some of  the group hadn't aged at all and looked nearly identical to the pictures in our high school yearbooks. 

Others of us....not so much.

Which is a divine blessing considering all the big hair and big glasses we were sporting in 1993. 

Yesterday morning we toured the elementary, middle, and high schools where many of us spent 13 entire years together.

Oh, the memories that came flooding back...first kisses in the kindergarten bathroom, hiding in the basement for tornado drills, the 5th grade play, our 6th grade teacher making students hold his hand down the hall when they were misbehaving, JH English, Singers practice in the girls locker room, and, of course, the famous red dress....

We still wonder if that teacher ever knew that her red dress brought the entire shop class full of guys to a complete standstill for at least 10 minutes every day that she showed up in that thing.

Good times.

Good memories.

But now, several years later, several degrees later, several hours of work later, several kids later...we are making our way in the world. We have gone our separate ways, yet still remain connected to our past.

Although I will venture to guess that when we wrote in each others yearbooks that "we will stay friends forever no matter where life takes us".....we had no idea that we were predicting the future of social media!

Death from a Child's Perspective

On the way home from the tennis courts tonight, the air bag light for the passenger seat was flashing off and on for no apparent reason.

We were discussing whether we thought the air bag was really off, or if the sensor was malfunctioning.

This brought on the following conversation.

7 yo: Well, if someone died, I bet it should be mommy or daddy.

10 yo: Why?

7 yo: Because they wouldn't want one of us to die!

10 yo: But it would be really, really bad if dad died.

(Mom is feeling the love.)

Mom: Why is that?

10 yo:  Because we need his paycheck to pay for things.

(Dad is feeling the love, too.)

Dad:  Well, that is why we have life insurance.

10 yo: I know, but that money wouldn't last for very long, would it?

Mom:  It would pay off the house, help with college funds, and last for quite a few years if we were very careful with how we spent the money.

10 yo: Oh, that's good.

Dad: Yeah, it all depends on how you would use it.  You definitely couldn't go buy something really expensive and use a bunch at one time.

7 yo: Like a Lego set.  We couldn't get a Lego set.

Me: Ummm.....yes, son.....like a Lego set.

And So It Begins

My son is in 5th grade.

This comes with all of the typical new territory...new teacher, new classroom, oldest class on the elementary side of the school, switching rooms for a few subjects, and....

BAND.

I wasn't quite sure how this would all play out for my oldest child.

For the past year, he has been talking about the possibility of picking an instrument for 5th grade band.  Sometimes he was excited; sometimes he wasn't sure.  I encouraged him to experiment with some instruments and give band a try.  I wanted him to see for himself whether or not this would be something that is "his thing".

Last year in May, the band teacher had the 4th graders try out some instruments they thought they would like.

First on his list -- trumpet.

He could not make a sound.  Not even one little peep.

Second up -- saxophone.

Not even a squeak.

Third up -- trombone.

After much huffing and puffing, he managed to play a note make a little noise.

When it was over, he was discouraged.  He said, "Mom, it just felt like I didn't have any air."

That's when it hit me.

Every year since he was 2 or 3, the pediatrician has asked him to try to blow hard enough to make a pinwheel spin around really fast.  He could never do it.  At the allergy doctor, he would always struggle to get the spirometer to go up as high as they wanted it to.

Apparently, the child has an issue with air capacity.

So, where does that leave us?

Yep, the drums.

He is not sad at all. 

The incessant noise has started. The drumsticks travel around the house with him.  Everything under our roof has developed the potential to be turned into a drum.

I had to draw the line when he started drumming with his sticks on the dining room table.  It is quite possibly the only piece of furniture we have purchased from an actual furniture store in our entire married life.

So far, it hasn't driven me crazy.  I'm happy that he likes to practice.  It's great that he wants to play all the time.

Only one thing makes me nervous.

Band doesn't even start until Wednesday.

What will it be like after that??

Deep, Dark Questions from a Mother's Brain

I have always been a learner.  I like to ask questions; I like to have answers.  Research intrigues me, and the more data there is (preferably in understandable, normal people terms), the better.  If it didn't take so much time and money, I truly could be one of those life-long student types.

In my never-ending search for knowledge, I have come across a few problematic questions of motherhood...

1. How long can Scooby-Doo underwear hang on a ceiling fan light without catching on fire? 

Last week my mother-in-law brought my kids home to change into their swimsuits so they could go on an impromptu swimming outing.  Apparently part of changing into a swimsuit must include kicking off the underwear and sending it sailing as high as possible (if you are seven, anyway...). 

I am guessing grandma didn't notice this moment of time, because Scooby was still stranded on the light when we arrived home from work later that day.  Scooby was also very, very warm.  We could safely call him hot.  I have no idea if Scooby would have ever burst into flames, but the important part is that the seven year old has been firmly convinced that the house could have burned down to the ground.

2.  Why do we even buy our children beds for their rooms?

Both of my boys have perfectly good beds.  Granted, they are hand-me down, garage sale types of beds, but they are extremely functional. 

Why is it then that these children like to sleep ANYWHERE except in their beds? The living room couches, the bedroom floors, the futon, the basement, the tent outside (or inside...it doesn't really matter), the living room floors, under a table 'tent'  anywhere in the house, in tiny little forts.....you name it, they would rather be there.  I'm fully convinced they should have beds made of legos.  They could then create on a daily basis whatever type of sleeping contraption they prefer.

3.  How long REALLY is "just a second"?

I have never been a fan of "just a second" or "just a minute" as a response from my children when I ask or tell them to do something.  Yes, I realize that it is better than "No", but I have always felt like it is just a variation of not really listening. 

It seems like a good life skill to need to respond and do something when asked.    Think school...

Teacher: "You need to be in the classroom and in your seat when the bell rings."
Student: "Yeah, just a minute....I'll get there when I can."

Uh....No.

Translate that to a job and we have even bigger issues. 

However, there is a flip side (there is always a flip side when parenting).  I don't want to raise little robots who are commanded to respond without using their brain.  There are legitimate times in life when we all need to say, "May I finish this first?", or, "Just a second, I'll be there in a little bit."

So, I am doing a little experiment.  I am wondering, if they are allowed, will they always try to buy more time? And if I only ask them once, with no reminders or repeat questions, how long will it take them to obey? Will they even come at all?

Yesterday evening was the first try.  I told them to come empty the dishwasher.  I got the standard, "just a second" answer. I waited.  And waited.  Five minutes later they came, the oldest was trailed by the youngest.  I have a feeling the youngest should be very thankful the oldest actually decided to come to the kitchen.  My money would not have been on the youngest ever arriving. 

I didn't say anything, but I will keep adding up the minutes. 

A few minutes here and there is not the end of the world.

However, if we accumulate a bunch of time within a few short days, I am bound to get very creative with how they will make that time up.

First Day

School is back in session.

This always comes with mixed emotions.  By mid-August, I have been back to work full-time for about two weeks, and the boys are being shuffled back and forth between grandparents.

This wears me out.  

The boys think it is pretty great.

So by the third week of August, I am typically ready to get them back into the school routine.

They are not always so sure.

The little one looks a bit skeptical about it all.  The big one doesn't seem sure whether he is in grade 4.......4 1/2.....or 5.  

A good mom would have made sure the boys had haircuts at some point in the last three months.  Or at least before school started.  In my defense, I had them scheduled for haircuts on Tuesday.  However, when an offer to go swimming appeared, I relented and rescheduled them to Thursday.

Speaking of haircuts, this has been a continual fight with the 10 year old.  He has once again decided that he wants.to.keep.his.hair.long.

I have nothing against long hair.  In fact, sometimes I like it better than short hair.  However, when the head in question has a cowlick the size of....well....a cow.......it just looks a little bit odd.

I have about 18 hours to debate forcing a haircut  vs. taking the 'who cares, it's just hair' stance.

 

This guy gets this sweet gal as his fifth grade teacher.

I had a little moment this morning when it hit me that 16 years ago I started my teaching career in this very classroom.  Now I have my own 5th grader who is going to have an amazing year with his fabulous teacher.

One would think that this may be how the little guy is feeling about school this year.

And, granted, he would much rather be catching snakes and lizards.

However....

When your aunt is your incredible 2nd grade teacher, you just can't go wrong with school.  My poor sister-in-law has not only her nephew, but her own daughter.  She is going to be one worn out soul, but the kids think it is great! 

 And here we go....the craziness begins.

.....And Now We Have A Snake

Three weeks ago we came home from the lake with a lizard.

Much to our surprise, Speedy is still alive and kickin'.

A week ago my little guy caught 14 tadpoles at our pond.  They came home in a galvanized tub and have been swimming around in our garage.  We aren't overly optimistic that there are still 14, but we are pretending all is well.

Four days ago grandpa found a turtle in his garage.  We were {insert extreme sarcasm here} so fortunate that my kids were spending the day at grandpa and grandma's house so the turtle could come home to our house.

We have become a regular zoo around here.

But yesterday was the icing on the cake.

I was leaving a conference when I got a text from my husband...

Him: "I never ever thought I would do it, but today I did it for my son."

Unfortunately, I had a feeling that I knew exactly what he was talking about.  I wrote back:

Me: "You caught a snake?"

Him: "Yep.  Put it in a bucket for him."

Me: "Please tell me you did not tell him that he could keep it."

Him:  "Uhhh....."

This is getting serious, folks.  So serious I had to detour to Maurices to do a little post-panic shopping.

Well....that is sort-of the truth.  I had to return some shoes at Famous Footwear, which just so happened to be located right across from Maurices.  It really would have been a shame not to go in and browse {spend} a bit {a lot}.

The situation got even better last night when my 7 year old said, "Who thinks the snake should come in the house?! All in favor, say 'Aye'".

Imagine my shock when I heard my husband say, "Aye"!

I think I fell to the floor.

Or I may have knocked him to the floor; I am not sure which.

After about .2 seconds of discussion (and when I say "discussion", I mean me saying, "You have got to be kidding me!!!  Does anyone remember the frog that we haven't found yet?!?), it was determined that the snake would not come into the house.

Which was good, because I really didn't want to have to find a new residence.

It's me or the snake living in this house; however, I was careful not to voice that to my son.

If he was given the option, I'm thinking there is a good chance the snake would have been reclining on my pillow sipping a glass of lemonade.

The Dangers of Blogging

Recently I wrote a post about my place of employment.

That is typically a huge blogging no-no, but in this case, I was sharing what a great "family" I have worked with over my many years at school. 

I even had my boss read it ahead of time to make sure that it didn't read like I had one foot out of the door, and to make sure there were no negative connotations that could be read into it.
 

However, just today I got a text from someone who asked if there was something going on that I wasn't sharing.

I asked why.

She mentioned the blog.

And then I discovered that my post said I was feeling nostalgic about a new school.

What it really was supposed to say is that I was feeling nostalgic about a new school YEAR.

Funny how one little word (or the lack of) can so drastically change the meaning of  a sentence.

It's true that I don't know what God has in store for the future.

It's true that life in general or my son's health issues may cause some changes to occur.

But I definitely did not mean to insinuate that I am longing for a new school!

So, I apologize to those I may have confused.

And I wil attempt 2 edit bettr in thee futurre. 

Vacation Catch-up

Typically I post blogs about vacations a bit sooner.  Like, when we are actually ON the vacation.

I found that a bit difficult with no internet access.  My boys really think it is time for the local lakes to offer wi-fi at each campsite, because, come on, how will every body see the pictures of the really cool things that are captured on an hourly basis?

They haven't quite yet gotten to the age where they are blaming their parents (*cough*....father....*cough, cough*) for our family not having smart phones which would basically do everything they think they should have access to...........but, I digress.

Last Sunday we headed out for our week away at the local reservoir.  For several days before, I had been trying to convince my husband that it really would be easier if we had 2 vehicles on hand for the week.  We already knew we had to go back to town one day for prior commitments, and inevitably there seems to be a lot of running around for one thing or another.  And what if we had an emergency? And what if...? You get the picture.

Eventually he agreed that I could take the car.

So after packing nearly everything we owned for our week away (seriously, this was more prep work than a 12 day trip to Oregon!), we headed out.  My husband and oldest son were in the truck, pulling the camper and the jet ski.  My youngest son and I were following along nicely behind them in the car.

Fifteen minutes down the road, my low tire indicator light came on.

My heart sank.  I am sure my husband's blood pressure rose.

Two towns and three gas stations later and we still hadn't found a working air option.  Feeling fairly sure that the tire was not losing air quickly, we continued on to the lake.

Ten miles from our destination, my cell phone rang.  It was my husband.

He said, "Guess what we forgot?"

I love that question.

The grills.  Two little grills that belong to my dad. We forgot to pick them up. 

No problem…the menu for the next 5 nights only consisted of grilled brats, grilled chicken, grilled steak, grilled hamburgers, and grilled pork chops.

Ugh.

It was becoming apparent that this ‘vacation’ might be one big lesson in flexibility.

And we hadn't even actually made it to the lake yet.