There Always Comes a Moment...

...when I wonder what in the world we were thinking.

Each year during Christmas vacation we bring out a new "Christmas Break" puzzle.  It has been a tradition for quite some time now (hence the word "tradition"), and one that we all love immensely.

Well, 3 of the 4 of us love it.  

The other 1 of us sits at the table now and then until he gets frustrated that he can't find any pieces.  That usually takes about 3-5 minutes.  

Last year my son chose this puzzle.

We were in the midst of getting a bedroom ready downstairs that would someday be his, and he was already collecting KU paraphernalia for it.  He had visions of completing the puzzle, gluing it, and framing it to hang in his room.  

Two of the three have occurred...and it is currently sitting in the basement collecting dust. Apparently 13x39 is not a frame size that the average Walmart, Target, Kohls, or any department store in the midwest carries. It is so convenient, however, that there is a website listed on the puzzle box where one can buy the perfect size frame.  That's a handy little business arrangement.

I digress.

This year, in honor of our family's first Chiefs game in October, we chose this puzzle.  Same theory, smaller people. Waaayyyyy smaller people. 

You see, last year, if one looked at the picture on the box closely enough, you could basically tell what the vast majority of the KU fans were wearing.  This was hugely helpful in putting the puzzle together. 

This year, all we can tell is that there is a lot of red.  Lots and lots of red. 

And a green field.

Here they are, getting started.  To the credit of the little guy, he did actually help sort edge pieces for a really long time.

 

He did not, however, help put them together.

  

I had to capture this rare moment as well.  Two boys working on a puzzle and not fighting.  It's a happy mom moment...even if it only lasted for a moment.

 

Everyone needs a weapon made out of hot wheels race car tracks and duct tape to help them put together a puzzle.

See all that progress? We decided to start with the field -- because it's not red.  See the hundreds of pieces left? All red.  Lots and lots of little red people.

Stay tuned for the finished product, sometime in the year 2015.

We are excited to get it completed and glued together.

So it can sit in the basement and collect dust too.

Where Did We Go Wrong?

I walked out of the bedroom today, to hear my son singing this rendition of the Twelve Days of Christmas.

On the 9th day of Christmas, my mommy gave to me...9 brand new X-Boxes,

8 iPad Airs,

7 iTunes cards,

6 hundred dollars,

5 diamond rings (which I would sell for lots of money)....


We have obviously done something drastically wrong somewhere along the way.

And, we are going to have some seriously disappointed children in about 5 days.

This is So Not Okay

Ten years ago this month we started building our house.  And we I say "we", I mean my husband, his father, and our builder.  Not really in that order.

From the very beginning, people told us we would probably have trouble with mice.  Apparently living in the country is strike one, and living in the middle of a wheat field is strike two. I'm sure there is a strike three that I am not aware of.

Against all odds, we have been here 4 months shy of 10 years and have not had even one mouse in the house.  Not even ONE.

Well, I take that back.  A year or so ago my husband opened the door leading into the garage, and a brave little mouse ran into the house right in between my husband's feet.  He chased that thing down, caught it, and got rid of it in less than 5 minutes.

That has been the extent of our mouse issues.

Until now.

Our youngest son came hauling up the stairs the other day insisting that he saw a mouse run behind something.  We did some searching, but came up with nothing.  He still thinks he was mistaken, but in reality we caught one that night. 

My husband discovered their little entry way near the air conditioner.  He secured it right up, but we aren't sure how large of a family moved in before we closed off their mousey door.  So now I have these lovely things.

I know that a lot of people have to deal with this, but honestly, this is a new thing for me, and it grosses me out. 

Not only that, but these critters are incredibly rude and do all of their snacking at night.  It is great fun to wake up to the sound of a loud SNAP.  Even better is when it is not a clean kill and you wake up to the mouse flailing around trying to escape.

It is in that moment when I do what any good wife would do -- wake up her husband to tell him that the mouse trap just snapped.

Three down....hopefully none to go.

Just to be clear, my youngest still does not know about this little mouse issue.  I'm pretty sure he would be turning every room upside down and inside out to find them.  Then he would want to catch them and keep them all as pets.

No thank you.

No thank you.

No thank you.

Although they are better than snakes...

You caught what?

Tonight when I walked into the house, my son's first words were, "Mom, do you know what a silverfish looks like?"

"A silver fish?"

"Yeah."

"Um, sure, I know what a silver fish looks like."

"Great," he said, "I think I caught one. Look in this jar and see if this is a silverfish."

Wait...what?  "You caught a silver fish in a jar? When?"

"Today. Here, look."



Ahhh...A silverfish.  Not a silver fish. Who knew.

"How in the world have you ever heard of a silverfish?"

His reply, "From Minecraft.  And the bug book great grandma gave me."

Of course.

"Mom, do you know what a silverfish eats?"

"No, sorry, I have no idea."

His brother chimed in, "Why would you think she would know that?"

"Well, I don't know.  I thought maybe she interacted with silverfish in college or something."

Seriously...those were his exact words..."...maybe she interacted with silverfish in college...".

No, son, sorry.

No interaction with silverfish.

I am such an uncool mom.

It Takes Me Back

I seriously do not know where the time has gone.

I am not sure how my son is already 12 years old. I think I have said that every year since he was...about 3.  "I cannot believe he is already ____ years old." In the blink of an eye, I will be old and gray and the number that fits in that blank will be the age I currently am.  

That is scary.

My son is in 6th grade this year.  When we had a chance to win tickets to the KC Chiefs game that just happened to be on his birthday, it seemed like the perfect gift.  He loves football (really, all sports), and we don't usually spend the kind of money it takes to go to a professional game. Apparently God thought it was a good idea as well...or luck was just on our side...because we were the holders of the winning number.

He was ecstatic (which for this wild-and-crazy child means a really big smile) when he found out we were going to the game. 

My parents joined in the fun and bought them shirts for game.

Long sleeve shirts...which made sense at the time since the game was on October 26.

 

Little did they know it was going to be nearly 90 degrees.

Someone should have reminded me to pack sunscreen. #MomFail

We got to the stadium a tad early.  There really were more fans at the game than what this picture suggests. 

This was the first time at Arrowhead for all of the guys in my family.  It brought back great childhood memories for me. 

I have loved NFL Football since I was a kid.  It may have had something to do with the fact that one of my good friends' uncle played for the Los Angeles Rams. I had no claim to fame, but as a kid, when you know someone who does, you start to think you are big stuff.

My dad had back surgery when I was in 6th grade, so my parents' best friends got stuck taking my brother and I to KC for the weekend for the KC Chiefs vs. Los Angeles Rams game. I had two goals: 1) get Nolan Cromwell's (aforementioned Ram's safety) autograph, and 2) get Eric Dickerson's (Ram's running back) autograph. 

Goal #1 was not so difficult since we were staying with Nolan's wife at the hotel.  Family connections are always nice.  Goal #2 was also accomplished, and I am fairly sure I can still scrounge up the magazine he signed for me.

Odd as it may be for a 6th grade girl, I was on top of the world.

I had a really hard time not thanking my dad for having to have back surgery.

I'm pretty sure I shed a few tears when Eric Dickerson left my beloved Rams to go to the Colts the following year.

But time marches on...my players left...I grew up....the Rams moved to St. Louis...

and I became a Chief's fan along with my family.

6th Grade for me - Chiefs vs. Rams

6th Grade for him - Chiefs vs. Rams

28 Years Later....Same Stadium

He loved every minute of it. 

His brother...well, I think he watched the cheerleaders more than he watched the game. The cheerleaders and the giant TV screens - thank goodness for those.

Happiness is ending the day at Culver's.
 

If you've never gone, you need to fix that. Right away.

And then go run a few miles.

Unless you are my kids.  Then you will just fight all the way home to burn the calories.  And then sleep.  Sleep is good.

Happy Birthday, old child!

A Day in the Life

Tonight I was studying with my 8 year old for his history test.  It was going something like this...

Me: What were the leaders who people chose to act or speak for them called?
Him: representatives
Me: (Eyebrows raised in surprise that he knew that.)

Me: Who were the first people in the Americas to build cities?
Him: The Olmecs
Me: (Impressed. I didn't know that.)

Me: Name one slave who bought his freedom and became a Christian.
Him: Amos Fortune
Me: (Wow, again.)

Me: The Pilgrim leaders established a government and wrote laws called the what?
Him: Mayflower Compact
Me: (I need to go back to 3rd grade to learn this stuff.)

Me: What year did Christopher Columbus sail across the ocean and arrive in San Salvador? (I know this one! I know this one!)
Him: 1982

Oh my.  Well, at least he knows about the Olmecs.

In other news...

Yesterday my little cherub caught a snake.  As he does with all living things he catches, he made a habitat in the cooler and put the snake in there.  This is a bit problematic, because the snake needs air, yet it will also crawl out if the lid is open.  

I had no idea the cooler was in the garage. Today, after church, the little guy realized that the lid was open and the snake was gone. Huge, noisy sobs floated into the house, and when I found out what happened, I am fairly sure I ordered my husband out to the garage to find.that.snake.

They did.  And they put it back into the cooler, and left it in the garage.

What?!

A few hours later, the same little guy came rushing into the house (leaving the door open, of course), and shouted, "Dad, the snake is gone again!" I cannot even tell you what flew out of my mouth, but whatever I said came out at high volumes and had something to do with shutting the door and getting rid of that nasty thing. 

And then I heard it.

A very loud yelling sound coming from husband, followed by lots of commotion.

They found the snake, and it bit my husband.

He was MAD.

Both my husband and the snake.

I had a moment of alarm, and then a moment of sweet victory, because I knew that would be the end of the snake's life...or at least the end of its life in captivity at our house.

But alas, I was wrong.

The snake is still in the cooler at this moment, but it did get evicted to the back yard.

Tonight when I was tucking the boys into bed, the 8 year old asked if he could pray.

I, of course, said yes, and was feeling pretty happy that he would ask to be the one to say bedtime prayers.

Then I heard this:

Dear Lord,
Thank you for this day.
Thank you that I caught a grasshopper mouse.
Please let my snake not eat my mouse.
Please let it be the other way around.
Amen.


Earlier today this son told me that he wanted to be an exterminator when he grows up, because "they handle bugs".

I replied, "Honey, they KILL bugs."

To which he said, "Oh, well.  That'll be okay, too."


I have no more words.

This is Getting Out of Control

This is currently residing in our cooler. 

The three lizards that came home from the lake a few weekends ago made a speedy escape when the wind blew over the cooler several nights ago.

The lizard habitat was quickly transformed into a spider habitat. 

This is the spider that the little guy begged to take with us to the lake. I said, "No, I don't think we are going to haul it with us for the weekend, but I guess you can check with your dad."

I really should have left off the "check with your dad" part.

Dad loaded it up and took it along.

I will admit...the spider is a pretty good babysitter.  My son spends a fair amount of time hunched over the cooler observing the spiders every move.  Even more time is spent catching bugs to feed it.

I was hoping for a wind gust to knock over the cooler before we came home.

No such luck.

In addition, we brought home 5 crawdads to add to the family.

People, I am not equipped for this!

I would like to think I am a fairly good mom of boys.  I love sports, camping, hiking, bike riding, swimming, and will even play a video game now and then.  I would much rather play catch with a ball than play dress up with barbies.

But my spunky youngest son is pushing the limit. I do not scream in a frenzy of fear when I see a spider or snake, but I am not a fan. 

Not even close.

This little zoo we are running is nearly pushing me over the edge.

 WINTER CANNOT GET HERE FAST ENOUGH.

First Week Down

The first "week" of school is in the books.

And by "week", I mean two-and-a-half days.

Two-and-a-half great days of seeing smiling students, talking with families, spending time with teachers, and hanging out for a few hours at high school retreat. 

Every time the kids walk through the door, my heart is filled with the importance of why we do what we do.

In the midst of the busyness of the first morning, I snagged a couple of shots of my boys.  The oldest started 6th grade.  Here he is with his super sweet teacher.

 

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The youngest started 3rd grade.  I have a great pic of him with his wonderful teacher as well, but I couldn't get it to load. Here he is outside of his classroom.

The first day of school also brought a "selfie" challenge by one of my colleagues to see which of us could take the most selfies with students.

Thanks to the challenge being posted on Facebook and Twitter, I had elementary students walk in the front door and ask if they could take a selfie with me before they went to their classrooms.  It completely made my day!

My colleague rocked the challenge by taking pictures with entire hallways of students.

I had been taking pictures one by one, so I had to up my game and jump on the bus with the kids at the end of the day to take a shot with a bus full of students before they left for home. 

Here we both are trying to take a selfie at the same time with one of our seniors.

I'm pretty sure it defeated the purpose to have us both in the picture...

...but we still had fun.

All in all, it was a great first "week". 

Looking forward to many more!

Roughing It

I have spent many weekends at the lake in my life.

I don't even remember when my folks started camping, but I was little. My best guess is that I have clocked at least 75-100 weekends since I was 5 years old.   

But I have never seen this.

This gives a whole new meaning to "roughing it".

Somewhere along the way, camping has gone from tents, no electricity, cooking everything over a campfire, and sleeping on the ground...to showers in the camper, satellite dishes for 245 TV channels, and big screen theaters.

I think this current version of camping might be missing the original intent, but they are still enjoying the great outdoors!


The only problem...their sound wasn't loud enough for us to hear it.  :)

Do You Need a Popsicle?

I am once again breaking the "be careful about blogging about your job" rule.  Sometimes a little reflection is a good thing.


Tuesday was a long day.  Not a bad day, just a long day.  I worked until 2:00, raced my child to the doctor for a physical, dropped him back off at grandma's, and headed back to school to prepare for a board meeting.  I finished about 6:15 and gathered my things to head into town for the 7:00 meeting.

I saw that I had a little extra time before the meeting and realized that it had been a while since I had watered the plants for our first grade teacher.  She heads out of state for the summer, so we try to keep her greenery alive while she is gone.  I don't think she knows what an incredibly black thumb I have, but I am fairly sure I have already had one plant fatality.  The sad thing is, compared to my previous plant records, that really is pretty good.

Anyway....I successfully watered the plants, and headed down the hallway to check to make sure all lights were off before I left.  The next thing I knew I was flying/sliding/half-falling down the hallway.  There was water all over the floor.

I never actually hit the ground, but I am fairly sure that if my gracefulness was caught on the security cameras, I might be eligible for $10,000 from Funniest Home Videos.

I carefully retraced my steps and entered the elementary bathroom. Sure enough, there was a toilet running and a nice little sprinkler effect was occurring behind the toilet.

Herein lies a problem for me.  I have had a fair amount of training in teaching, discipline, special education, school law, and curriculum.  Toilets shooting out water? Not so much.

I called one of our board members to let him know that I may be cutting time very close to get to the board meeting. He, of course, said he would come help in a moments notice if I needed him to.  That answer would have been a resounding "YES!", except I knew there was another guy in the building who would be willing to help me out (not that I am implying that a girl couldn't take care of a toilet shooting out water, but unfortunately THIS girl is not that girl. However, by the end of the school year, I might be!).

I headed over to the high school hallway where there was a family working on a huge locker painting project. I could go on and on about this family, but let me just say that they are amazing, and I aspire to be servants like they are.  This school dad, who had been working tirelessly in unairconditioned situations all day long, immediately dropped what he was doing to come help me.  Sure enough, he found the problem, turned off the water, and then spent his precious work time on his hands and knees helping me mop up all of the water.

After we got everything taken care of, I gathered up my stuff, and walked out of the building all sweaty and dirty from the clean-up. The board member I had called previously was just walking in....carrying two popsicles. "Do you need a popsicle? I thought maybe you could use one," he said. Part of me chuckled inside, and part of me nearly teared up.

My response, "I would love one!"

Seriously, it was just what I needed in that moment.  It made my day.

Here is what I realized:

There have been many times this summer when I have thought that I am in over my head with new responsibilities at school.

But each time, I am taken care of.

If I had not needed to come back to school to get ready for the board meeting, I never would have discovered the water issue.

If I had not remembered to water the plants, I never would have discovered the water issue.

If I had not decided I needed to check the lights and grab a water bottle before I left, I would have walked out in a different direction, and never would have discovered the water issue. 

I truly do not believe that those things were all just "coincidences".

Had we not found the water issue until morning, we would have had water all over the elementary hallway and inside a classroom that just had brand new carpet installed.

To top that, I had two people more than willing to drop what they were doing to help out if needed...and needed they were.

God's got this.  He always does.

And sometimes he sends angels who are covered in paint and carrying popsicles.

A Weekend of Dumb

Typically we are organized.  Really, we are.

We are list-makers. Rule-followers. Logical planners.  (Yikes....BORinnngggg!)

But this weekend - not so much.

We have had a little family lake get-away planned for a long time.  We were going to be gone Wednesday through Sunday for some R & R before the August school rush really hit.

Who am I kidding? The August school rush hit in May!

Leaving Wednesday turned into leaving Thursday, but we were still determined to go since we had only used our camper once the entire summer.

Packing was a little...haphazard. It was done intermittently over the course of a few days, and we knew it was going to be a miracle if we had everything we needed.  We were just hoping we didn't forget something we couldn't live without.

We set out late Thursday morning, and arrived at the lake around lunch time.  All was well...for about the first 20 minutes.  That would be when I realized that I was completely out of the chemical that you have to pour down the toilet every time you camp.  Trust me, you don't want to go very long without this addition to the holding tank.

When we bought the camper, there was a pretty good supply stashed in the bathroom.  Apparently we depleted it back in May. I did not remember that little fact.

After a couple of stops, I found a very local we-carry-everything-you-may-have-forgotten trading post type of store.  Thankfully, they had what we needed for the low, low price of double what I would have paid at Wal-Mart.

Fast forward several hours to Thursday evening. It was 10:15 and we were starting to get the kids to bed.  I headed in to the camper to take my contacts out...only to realize that my entire bag with everything remotely similar to contact solution must still be sitting on my dresser at home.

Hmmmmmm.  Drive somewhere for contact solution and a case? Or throw out my contacts (of course, I had just opened a new pair) and waste some money? We literally started calculating which was cheaper - gas or a pair of contacts.

The gas won. My husband was ready to head out to get my needed supplies.

But wait, this particular lake closes the gates at 10:00 p.m.

Splendid.

I am guessing it is not a good long term solution, but turns out that bottled water does actually work in a pinch when not wanting to trash new contacts.

The next morning I headed home.  Why home? Because in addition to my entire cosmetic bag, we also forgot to pack jeans for dirt-bike riding, paper towels, and the kids' allergy medicine.

Later that day, I did something minorly annoying.  I can't even remember what it was, but I said to my husband, "Well, that was dumb."  He shook his head and said, "This has been an entire weekend of dumb."

Well stated, honey.

What else happened?

Well...we discovered that the lake we were camping at has much stricter rules than the lake we usually camp at.  Our oldest child has always ridden on the jet ski when going to unload at the boat ramp.

We found out that is against the rules.

The next day several of us were riding in my parent's boat to go unload at the boat ramp.  Surely, we thought, that would be okay since the boat has sides and is much safer.

Nope, turns out that is against the rules as well.

Thankfully, the park custodians and rangers were very nice individuals.  But, seriously, it got to the point that my husband didn't want to go 16 in a 15 mph speed zone for fear of getting talked to by another park attendant. 

We are fairly sure there were conversations at the check-in house about the crazy people camping who thought they could do whatever they wanted to.

And then there was the little matter of the cell phone meeting up with the lake.  That was its own special sort of fun.  It is now tucked away in its very own rice bag, hoping for a little resurrection power.

Of course, it couldn't have been my phone.  That would have been too easy. I have been trying to figure out a way to get rid of that thing for months now, but my husband actually likes his phone. Go figure.

To top it all, by Saturday morning, the 11 year old was doing breathing treatments in the camper.  I think that was a first for us as well.  Good thing I had forgotten my contact solution and snagged the treatment supplies "just in case" when I was home.

In spite of it all, we really did have fun.

And it really could have been worse.

We didn't have any flat tires like the guy I saw on the side of the road trying to change a camper tire.  We didn't have to tow a broken down boat or jet ski off the water like we saw others having to do. The weather was absolutely gorgeous, especially for the beginning of August. We were able to come back in for a beautiful send-off church service for a dear pastor and friend. We spent quality family time together on the beach, around the fire, riding bikes, and playing games in the camper.

I'll put up with a little "dumb" for all of that.

But I promise to pack better next time.

I am already making my list.

Just a Short Jaunt Down the Highway

We spent a little time in the great state of Illinois this past weekend.  The days absolutely flew by.

My kids spent a ton of time in our aunt and uncle's pool, and I just realized that I did not get even one picture of them swimming.  I will blame it on not wanting to get the camera wet.

I did, however, get several pictures of this crazy football game.  One of my favorite things about this family is that they are amazing about doing things with the kids. Just about everything can be made inter-generational.  Typically this is a great thing. It was not so great when my husband landed on the arm of our 8 year old cousin during a later volleyball game and thought he smashed it into pieces.

Thankfully, all was well. No ER visit needed.

 

Back to football....I am not sure these teams were really fair. What I am fairly sure of is that my little guy may not of understood what he was doing, but he still had a blast.

 

Part of the reason he had a blast may have been because he got to try to tackle his brother over and over and over...

We scheduled in a bit of "no kid" time as well.  The guys went golfing one morning, but my husband refused to take the camera.  He has been golfing all of maybe 3 times in his life.  When I was bemoaning the fact that I didn't have any proof that he actually went, my uncle quickly replied, "Sure we have proof that he went.  We came back with three fewer golf balls than we took with us!"

Ha.  My husband loves all kinds of sports.  I am not sure that he really considers golf a sport.

After the guys went golfing, the girls went for pedicures.  Funny little golf parallel here...I have had all of maybe three pedicures in my life as well.  The last one was when this middle gal got married...three years ago.

 My husband asked what it is that they actually do when one gets a pedicure.  I tried to explain the science and the reason of it all.  He still did not think it was worth $30.00 when I could just polish my toenails for basically nothing at home.

He might be right.

But I still enjoyed every minute of it.


Every time I look at this picture I think of Field of Dreams. "If you raise the net, they will come."

  

This is what you call volleyball in the middle of nowhere.

This state is serious about their soybeans and corn. We thought Kansas corn was tall this year.  Not so much.  In Kansas you could easily lose a 10 year old in the corn.  In Illinois, you could easily lose full grown adults.  In stiletto heals.

I was waiting for the collision in this shot.  No such luck. Apparently there is a ball somewhere up there.

  

The kiddos lost their wiffle ball in the beans.  There is no way that all of those beans survived that plastic bat.

I sure hope their combine knows how to harvest sports equipment.

 

No weekend in Illinois is complete with a Rook game.....or 20. I have never seen 4 members of the family quite this serious.  We really did smile...and laugh...a lot.  Someone must have just lost really badly here.

Or it is really late at night.

Or both.

Now we are back home for at least another 6 months.

I miss my family already.

But the 10 hour drive? Not so much.

It Takes a Village

Today I am feeling thankful.

This is actually surprising me a bit, because it was a crazy day.  I met myself coming and going, sometimes at a rate of speed that made everything one giant blur.

But on the way home tonight, as I was reflecting on the day, I was overcome with thankfulness for the many people in my world.  People whom I work with. People whom I call family. People whom I call friends.

Let's rewind to first thing this morning.  This year I have the privilege of serving on a team at school with some amazing folks.  They are rock stars. We gather at 8:00 on Wednesday mornings.  No teacher should have to come to a meeting at 8:00 a.m....during their time off....in the months of June and July.  These are the months when teachers are trying to recoup their sanity and gear up for the 70 hour weeks which are right around the corner.

But this team does it, even though their contracts don't start until August 1st. Like I said - rock stars.

I am thankful for the colleague today who gave of her time to sit with me through an interview, who walked with me at a hurried pace from place to place so we could collaborate on the run, and who took a load off of my shoulders by making a supply run that I had scheduled in my day.

I am thankful for the colleague who texted me today and commanded that I remember the vacation rule this weekend when I am gone - no texting about work unless someone else texts you or unless you absolutely have to.

I am thankful for the colleague who is helping me graph and analyze test scores this summer who was completely understanding when I had to regroup and reschedule our meeting due to the crazy day.

I am thankful for the colleagues who came in on their own free time today to help unpack supplies and curriculum and get it all organized.

I am thankful for the colleagues who met me for lunch to discuss curriculum and plans for this coming year (with some great wedding conversation thrown in, too!).  It was a nice reprieve to relax, talk, and laugh. 

I am thankful for the colleague who made phone calls for me, emailed documents, answered phones, and always keeps me on track.


I am thankful for the colleague who texted me a picture of herself working on curriculum guides at home!  Not so much because she was doing school work (which, of course, I am in favor of!), but the fact that she noted that fun rings, painted nails, and good coffee make her work experience so much better. Seriously made my day.

I am thankful for the colleagues who have worked like mad to prepare for the upcoming work day at school and who are stepping in when I am out of town.   

I am thankful for the colleague who let me drive to her house and steal her keys when I locked myself out of my office this afternoon. Yep, it was that kind of day.

Folks, it takes a village to make it all happen.

In the midst of all of that, I was receiving texts from my Illinois family, whom I have the pleasure of spending the weekend with. Those texts were full of plans of family dinners, swimming, pedicures, Rook tournaments, and birthday parties. Ahhhh....pure bliss.

Last night at our board meeting, the board member who led devotions talked about soaring like eagles.  He challenged us to look at life from the vantage point of the eagle -- to take in the big picture instead of always looking at life from the ground level viewpoint. 

I am guilty of that.  I am always scurrying around, seeing the piles of things to do that are stacked near me, and sometimes I forget that there is so much more to life than crossing things off a list.

I want to soar.  Not for success, but for vision. Vision to see clearly the big picture.

And if I know anything, it is that this cannot be done alone.  So, to those of you who I have the privilege of seeing often, to those of you I rarely get a chance to catch up with, thank you for being my village.

May we all soar like eagles.

I Think He May Have Actually Showered

I'm just gonna say it...8 years old seems awfully young to go away to camp.

I started talking to my boys about church camp months ago.  This was the one year that they could both go to the same camp during the same week.  The little guy would have come home one day earlier, but still...it was the SAME WEEK.  Does any other mother out there see the benefit of that?!

My husband and I loved camp when we were kids.  In fact, that is where we met for the first time ever.  Granted, he "dated" my best friend...or they were "going together"...or whatever it is that we called it at that age, but still, that is where our first memories are of each other.

We looked forward to camp every summer, and we wanted our kids to have that experience as well.

But the older child wasn't having it.  He did not think that going away to camp sounded all that fun.  We encouraged him like crazy, even up to the point that he asked if we were trying to get rid of him.

We backed off just a smidge after that.

The youngest child, however, thought camp sounded great.  At least he did as soon as he read "riflery" and "archery" on the camp brochure.  I am fairly certain that he wanted to go to church camp simply to shoot a gun and a bow.

So we took the leap.  We signed up the little guy and let the older kid stay at home.  Weird, I know.

We packed him up and sent him on his way.  I forgot to take a camera with me for the send off from church.  I wanted to take him to camp myself, but I knew that the possibility of him changing his mind and getting scared was greater if I would have been there.  So I blew him a kiss and sent him on his merry way.

I was nervous.

Nervous that he would think that camp was one big lizard-hunting experience and he would always be wandering away from his group.

Nervous that he would get frustrated by something and his behavior would be a bit less than desirable.

Nervous that he would come home in the same clothes he wore to camp, with a bagful of clean, untouched stuff.

This morning I picked him up.  He had a great time. When I asked him what his favorite thing was, it kept changing....horseback riding, shooting the gun, swimming...and eating.  The food, and I quote, "was A-MA-ZING."

He loved his counselor.  

 

The picture is dark, but there was a whole lot of muscle flexing and laughing going on.  

Here is a better one.

 I talked to his counselor all of 2 minutes today when I loaded up the camp gear.  I am pretty sure he was a perfect fit for my little guy.  It's amazing how God works out those details.

When I walked into the cabin, the counselor told my son to "show mom how organized and ready to go you are".  I had to pause for a moment to realize that he actually used my son's name and the word 'organized' in the same sentence.

I thought about sending him home with his counselor for a few more weeks of training.

I really wish I had pictures of the day I sent him off to camp to prove to him that those shorts are the exact same ones he wore on Monday when he left.  When I stuck him in the bathtub tonight, I realized that the underwear were the same, too. Oh my.

He promised me that he did actually change his clothes during camp, and that he must have just put these back on today. At least the shirt and socks were different.

In the grand scheme of life, it doesn't really matter.  But I couldn't resist asking him if he ever showered at camp.

"Yep," he said, "my counselor made me."

To which I just had to laugh.

It's actually possible since I sent two towels to camp and he only came home with one.  Or...the towel could still be at the swimming pool with the goggles that didn't come home either.

On the bright side, he is the proud new owner of a Nike sock...that has no match.  So sorry to the kid who this actually belongs to.

Right away he told me that he wanted to go back to camp next year.  An hour later, he said he had possibly changed his mind because there was no free time to catch lizards, and he couldn't take the wildlife home anyway.

I, for one, am ALL for that rule.  If that is the worst that camp has to offer, I'd say his rookie year was a success!

I don't even want to know if he ever brushed his teeth.

Clean It Up

Company is coming from far away.
Mom says, "Let's clean up this house!"
Everyone scatters their separate ways,
The kids are suddenly quiet as a mouse.

There's 10 pairs of shoes in the living room,
And the legos are covering the floor.
Someone please help this tired momma,
I can't take this mess anymore!

The big kid's room was not so bad,
Now that the trap set takes up all his space.
He was done in a mere twenty minutes,
And then flaunted it right in his brother's face.

The little guy, on the other hand,
Is a little less clean when he plays.
If I made him stay until he was finished,
He wouldn't have come out for over 5 days.

The floor needs mopped, and the toilet needs scrubbing.
The kids really aren't volunteering.
I understand, I was a kid once too,
But is that really fighting I am hearing?

Time for mom to get a bit creative,
And initiate a fun little plan.
Every negative word equals a cupboard to clean.
Neither of the boys were really a fan.

But the boys began to change their attitudes,
And became a little less mean.
So either we will have polite behavior,
Or my kitchen will be very clean!

Boys

I have been told that raising boys is easier than raising girls.

Cheaper too.

So far, I can't argue with cheaper. My boys don't need or want 50 pairs of shoes.  Haircuts are cheaper. Clothes are not a major issue with them. No headbands, hair bows, make up, or purses. Anything we have spent on the boys up to this point, we could have just as easily spent on a girl.

It's the "easier" part that I am not so sure about.

Just now I asked the boys what they were doing.

Them:  "We are playing a way better version of Rock, Paper, Scissors."

Me: "Oh yeah?  What is it?"

Them: "It's called Sword, Fist, Gun."

Awesome.

That pretty much sums up one category of raising boys.  A peanut butter sandwich is formed into a gun.  A stick becomes a sword. Popsicle sticks for "craft time" are taped together to become a knife.

{Sigh.}


Earlier this morning, I was cleaning out the coat closet by our front door.  Sometimes I find very interesting treasures in places such as these.  Today's treasure? Dirty underwear.  In the coat closet.  I.do.not.want.to.know.why.


Yesterday I found this.

  

There have been many moments when I would have thought my son grew up watching Tim "The Tool Man" Taylor on Home Improvement (More Power!).  Here's proof.  That is one seriously amazing turbo booster.  He is now able to fly to the moon in that shirt. 

He has a blue shirt just like this with a super hero cape (an old towel) attached with velcro.

I wish I were kidding.

Helpful hint: Velcro does not come off once it is stuck to the writing on a t-shirt.

The past two days my youngest has been outside for many hours playing with a snake.  

Yesterday he walked into the house to ask for a drink of water and was HOLDING THE SNAKE IN HIS HAND.

I am not exactly sure what my response was, but I think the neighbors might be able to tell me.  It may have gone something like, "GET.THAT.THING.OUT.OF.HERE.RIGHT.NOW!"

I do realize that I cannot claim all of these things as only "boy issues".  I know a pretty amazing girl who could out-snake-charm my son any day.

I still hold strong to my claim: Raising boys is not easy.  They answer deep, conversational questions with words like "fine" or "good" or "I don't know".  They never want to shower or brush their teeth. They want to wear the same clothes four days in a row.

I do not understand these things.

But, I can deal with them. And if I'm really honest, I would much rather throw a football around the yard than play with dolls, and shooting baskets in the driveway is much more appealing than playing dress-up.  There is probably a good reason God gave me boys.

A recent conversation with a friend made me realize that there is something about raising boys that terrifies me more than snakes, dirty laundry, and smelly bedrooms.  It is the fact that the world desperately needs more honorable, respectable, godly men. This world needs men who will cherish their families, stand up for what is right, and spend time with their children; men who will be leaders in their churches, their homes, and their workplaces. 

This is not a slam on males in any way.  It is also not an excuse for women to sit idly by and expect a guy to do everything.

But the role of a man...of a husband...a father...a grandfather...is so, so important.

Anyone can raise a "boy".

My prayer is to raise godly men.  

And, in the mean time, to keep my house snake-free.

Entitled

The other day I read an article about youth sports, which sparked a blog post about MAYB basketball.  Yesterday I read "9 Things We Should Get Rid of to Help Our Kids", which got me thinking about entitlement.

en·ti·tle·ment
noun \-ˈtī-t^əl-mənt\ : the condition of having a right to have, do, or get something
: the feeling or belief that you deserve to be given something (such as special privileges)


I have struggled with this topic for many years...at least eleven years, seven months, and twenty-four days...which is when my first child was born.

Granted, my baby did not arrive with an attitude of entitlement, per se.  Complete dependency, yes.  Entitlement, no.

But it sure didn't take long. No one sets out to teach kids to be selfish; that seems to come on its own in their individual little sin natures. However, I do have to wonder if we as parents play a fairly large role in creating this sense of entitlement.  How is it that children think the world revolves around them if we have not done something to create that environment for them? I know when I look at our schedules and the responsibilities our children have (or do not have), things have not turned out quite as I had originally envisioned. They may not admit it or realize it, but they definitely feel a sense of entitlement in certain areas of their lives.

And then I realized it's not just the kids.

Today is my birthday.

Last night I was thinking about how my birthday was just going to be another regular day. Harvest is in full swing, there is a combine to fix (I, of course, will not be doing that!), and that there will be no real "birthday feel" to the day.

Then at  3:22 this morning, my son came upstairs feeling like he was going to be sick.  My first thought was, "Seriously? Happy birthday to me..."

And then it hit me.

Entitlement.

There is someone having a birthday today who does not have enough food to eat.
I have more than enough.

There is someone having a birthday today who has no place to live.
I have a house bigger than I really need.

There is someone having a birthday today who is sitting in a hospital right now hoping their child will survive.
I have two wonderful, relatively healthy children.

There is someone having a birthday today who longs to be loved by someone special.
I have an amazing husband.

There is someone having a birthday today who is grieving the loss of a parent, a sibling, or a close friend.
I have lost none of these.

And I had the nerve to sit there and be concerned about the fact that the day would have no "birthday feel" to it?

Frankly, we are entitled to nothing.

We have been given life by God to share with one another, to care for each other, and to have relationship with Him. He offered the greatest sacrifice and the greatest gift on the cross that anyone could ever offer.

I am not entitled.

I am forgiven, I am loved, I am blessed.

And as hard as it would be at the time, I would still be these things if we were faced with great crisis, as many people are on a daily basis.

May we continually think less of ourselves, more about others, and most about the One who gave us life in the first place.

Movin' On Up

We've progressed.

Not in the area of picking up dirty laundry, turning off the light when we leave a room, or cleaning off the table without being asked.

Oh no, none of those things.

We've progressed from this....

 

To this.

 

It is loud.

Well, that is not true.

It sits silently minding its own business until my son enters the room.  

Then the house shakes.

I love music, but I have never quite understood the need for ALL those cymbals.  Even the guy we bought the set from said he didn't use them all.  The one on the left of the picture that is shaped differently underneath? That one sounds like a gong.  My sons have invented their own version of The Gong Show, which they have never seen in their lifetime.

It is delightful.

We told our son that if we bought this, that we expected participation in the school band, the praise team, church services, and a college scholarship out of the deal.

He thought we were serious.

We had a good laugh over the whole thing.

In reality, what we should have done is made him sign a contract to provide hearing aids for us for the rest of our living days to compensate for the hearing loss he is causing. 

In spite of all the noise, I still prefer this to any other instrument. A wrong "note" (beat) when practicing drums is so much better than a squeaky clarinet or a blaring trumpet.

Even if it does take up half the house.

 

MAYB? Maybe....

I just read an article this morning about youth sports in today's culture, the possible overcommitment of kids to athletic programs, and the fact that we may be robbing our children of their childhoods by filling their every moment with athletics.

We have always tried to watch that... we have not sought out traveling teams, we've been hesitant to commit every weekend to a sport, have not wanted to have to miss church for ball games, and on and on.  

Don't get me wrong.  We love sports.  We encourage our boys to play at least a season or two a year, and we have even been known to force the issue when needed.  There was a time when we knew our child would never choose to do anything on his own, but that he really needed to step out and try something or he would watch his entire life pass him by while he stood on the sidelines (not just athletically).

Those were hard moments, but not ones we regret.  He grew a ton mentally, physically, and emotionally through those experiences.

But, in the process, we may have created a basketball-loving monster.

Really, we have had it pretty easy.  Our son is now going into 6th grade, and up to this point, we have stuck mainly with rec ball. It's not like we've had coaches beating down our door, so the decision-making has been pretty easy.

This summer the first MAYB opportunity presented itself. He really wanted to try it.  We discussed the financial commitment, the time commitment...(did I mention the financial commitment?)...and decided it was a good time to give it a try. 

So far he has loved it. 

We've spent two weekends hanging out in the big cities of Kansas, cheering on the boys.

They've won some.

They've lost some.

See that coach's arms straight up in the air?  Even that guy knows that his boys are mauling my son. 

The team is a fun mix of kids.  They come together from three different school districts and two different towns, yet are all intertwined in some way.  Two of the players go to my son's school.  One is in his youth group. One is a life-long family friend.  One he went to preschool with.  Two he has played baseball with.

And these boys love their coaches.  They are a great mix of intensity, fun, competitiveness, and encouragement.  One is a player's dad.  Two are young men who are volunteering out of the kindness of their hearts.  All three are giving up significant personal time to make a difference in these boys' lives.

Two tournaments.

Two medals.

And a whole lot of craziness.

My cautious, timid, introverted 11 year old needs a little more of this in his life.

And me?

I now wash jerseys, Under Armour, and shooting shirts three times a week...typically at 11:00 at night.

And I am funding my chiropractor's family vacations for the next ten years from all this bleacher sitting.

I am officially a basketball mom.

Off the Bookshelf

I am a reader.

I absolutely love to pull a book off the shelf and curl up on the couch for a few hours and get lost in a good story.

Unfortunately, this rarely happens.

If I do happen to be able to grab a few minutes to read, my first preference would be a feel-good fiction novel.  If I am reading for relaxation, I don't want to have to think too much.  My husband cannot figure out how black words on a white page can provide entertainment for such a lengthy amount of time. He does not get how characters can come to life and seem like they could hang out with me at the kitchen table.

It is possible that he thinks I am a few cards short of a full deck.

It is possible that he is right.

But as much as I love a good fiction novel, I am also a learner.  I like to keep some non-fiction books in my hand to keep my brain active with the latest topics I am researching or processing. As I glanced at the two books sitting on my table tonight, I had to smile because they so encompass my entire life right now.

Enter Book #1 - Why ADHD Doesn't Mean Disaster

This book was given to me by another mom who stumbled upon it several years ago. She told me she devoured it and then asked her son's teachers to read it as well.  I can see why. (If you happen to be a teacher at the school where my son attends...and if you happen to have my son in the next year or two or three...I may just happen to be asking a huge favor of you very soon!) This book was refreshing.

I have bored the internet world with the details before, so I won't go into them all again, but my little guy has PANDAS.  He also has ADHD. I am hoping we can be done adding acronyms for a very long time...until they stand for the most recent degree he has earned.

Sometimes it is hard to know what behaviors are being caused by PANDAS and what is the culprit of ADHD, or what is just typical 8 year old boy behavior. And does it really matter? Not really...unless strep has entered the picture, then PANDAS really matters. And do we medicate? Well, it might depend on what the root issue is, and will the medication make the tics worse? Maybe.  Or will they stunt his growth? Poor guy doesn't need any of that going on. And can he control his impulsivity? And what if he can't? Then what? He still needs discipline...and what if....and what if....and around and around the merry-go-round goes until we are so dizzy we don't know which way is up.

Back to the book.  Chapter 1 is entitled: "ADHD: A Dividend - Not a Disaster."  I knew from that moment I was going to love it.  Don't get me wrong, I did not agree with every single thing in the book.  And the book is old, so considerable research exists that was unknown at the time of print.  But to be able to read about the positive qualities of ADHD kiddos brought hope, encouragement, and a fresh perspective that a tired momma needs.

Moving on...because, honestly, I'm surprised if anyone reading this is still awake at this point....

Enter Book #2 - If You Don't Feed the Teachers They Eat the Students!

The title of this book was enough to make me want to read it.  I bought it months ago while I was still in grad school, and it has been collecting dust on my shelf ever since.  However, in the past couple of weeks, my role at school has shifted.  This was not a role I set out to fill, but apparently God had plans in the works that I did not know about. He's sneaky that way.


We found out back in January that our administrator at school would be leaving, so we set out on the typical administrative search.  Several people talked to me about the possibility of applying for the position since I had just finished my degree, which gave me the "license" to do this very thing. My answer was the same each time - it is too large of a commitment for a wife and a mother of young children (the four paragraphs above about Book #1 are reason enough!).

However, as time went on and the search continued, doors and windows were closing and opening all over the place. As it began to look like we would be venturing into an interim administrative year at school, God began to work on me and fill me with a peace I had not had for months up to that point.  When asked if I would step into the administrative role with a fantastic team for the interim, I agreed.

The responsibility is great. The nurture and care of the teachers and the students now lies in my (and the team's) hands. I am blessed to be able to work with an incredible staff who work diligently to care for and love each student, and who do everything possible to meet their spiritual, academic, emotional, and physical needs.


I do not take this role lightly. I desire the climate and atmosphere in a school to be a beautiful mix of fun, professionalism, encouragement, safety, positive attitudes, high expectations, trust, and a sense of belonging by each person who walks through the doors.  That, my friends, is easier said than done.

And while books don't have all the answers, they are but one resource in which to find little gold nuggets of information or inspiration.  My absolute favorite part of the "Feed the Teachers..." book thus far is this:

The six most important words..........I admit I made a mistake.

The five most important words........You did a great job.

The four most important words........What is your opinion?

The three most important words.......If you please...

The two most important words.........Thank you.

The one most important word............WE

The least most important word...........I


What is next off the bookshelf?  I haven't decided yet, but I am thinking it may need to be something along these lines! :)