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??