Man Camp at Powell

I caught you a delicious bass.

A hair-raising experience.

I don't need directions—relax, I know what I'm doing...

(More Powell posts below Cam's video)

Do Little Boys Have to Grow Up?

My teacher was born of Jesus and her sing me "I am a Child of God" like this...

He's three. I'm in love. And I don't want him to turn four. I'll support his healthy development anyway. Because that's the kind of mom I am. Self-sacrificing. A martyr. Oh, I'll get over it.

Dudes and Drips

I had to talk Rob into going on this trip. And when I did, he dreaded it. Not the company (his boys and the Cattens), just all the fun in the sun and all—I mean, really, who needs it?!

He's an original. And he's all mine. Love that dude.

Drip castle with Morrie

Tube Wars, A Fuzzy Baby, and Popularity

Tube wars were not caught on film, but were the highlight. 

Another kind of tube war (above): Driver (Mike) vs. Tube Parasites. Getty was his sole victim thus far, and Mike was not well pleased. Pictured is the rampage that ensued. 

Getty, loving his fuzzy caterpillar baby.

Hieroglyphics. Cy showed me, "This guy thought he was popular." Guess which one.

Ancient Indian ruins.

"How Am I Supposed to Live Without You?"

Meanwhile back at the ranch, Cam was pining away for Cy. MK's idea was to put Cy's photo next to Cam's bed, but all Cam would say was, "I don't want frozen Cy; I want real Cy."

Shoot!

Rob decided a few soccer seasons ago that he would reward each goal with a candy bar. Harmless enough, right? Until Cy came along. He was regularly racking up 5 and 6 candy bars a game. So, a couple of weeks ago Rob thought it would be “funny” to make another deal. “If you make 10 goals in a game, I’ll buy you a dirtbike.” I say “funny” because Rob had no intention of ever buying him a dirtbike. But it was a safe bet, right?

 

In today’s game, Cy scored his usual 5 or 6 goals, then 7, then 8. By this time, his teammates had told their parents about the deal, so the entire Dolphin sideline was cheering Cy on, while Rob sat lower and lower in his fold-up chair. Two minutes to go, and Cy scores number 9. With only 30 seconds to go, he gets a fast break and drives to the goal. He shoots…and misses. With 10 seconds to go, he drives toward the goal and shoots.

He missed.

We’re saved.

Until next time.

Compromises

MK’s middle school dance company coach told her, “You really should try out for [the high school] drill team.” MK sulked, “My mom won’t let me, because of my soccer schedule.” Coach said, “Well, I need to talk to your mom, because you’re really talented, and it’s a shame if you don’t try out.”

What the dance coach doesn’t realize is: one, how painfully aware I am of her dance talent; two, how talented MK is at soccer; and three, how I yearn for a chauffeur who could keep up with not only year-round soccer and dance for MK, but also track, as the high school track coach has made special arrangements with MK’s soccer coach for her to run track whenever soccer is not in conflict.

To paraphrase Elder Ballard, perhaps these coaches do not fully appreciate that “when you schedule a child, you schedule a family, particularly the mother." Wouldn’t it be awesome if I could spend all of my time helping MK to cultivate her tremendous and varied talents? I would love to be that for her. Alas, I have laundry, meals, other soccer schedules, scouts, YW, diapers, toddlers, birthday parties, errands, homework, chores, and the list of excitement goes on….

MK (and Mia to a lesser extent) will probably be the only one(s) to have to sacrifice some of their pursuits, so the younger kids (particularly the toddlers) can enjoy a richer home life instead of be strapped into the car or left at home with an older sibling more often than not.

I trust that Heavenly Father has designed McKenzie’s life plan in such a way as to capitalize on her most important talents, experiences, and growth, because from my limited perspective, I just feel like a stumbling block and a hindrance as MK struggles to magnify her talents.  (She shares my view. L)

A Wish and a Kiss

I walked into Cam’s bedroom to say prayers and found him lying with his hands behind his head, deep in thought. He looked over at me and said, “I want to be ten.”

“Why do you want to be ten?”

“Mom… I just really want to be ten, okay?”

 “You got it.” And then we said prayers.  

Here, Cam demonstrates his morning send-off per Daddy's request, "Shoot me a kiss." Ka-POW!

MK's Room RULES! (or Room Rules)

Easter by Flashlight

The Cattens invited us to a late night Easter hunt by flashlight. 

This was no dainty outing in the garden gathering chocolate treats. This after-hours hunt was all business. 

Eggs were filled with cold, hard CASH (and lots of it—thanks, Dr. Mike). You can appreciate Getty's sinister smile now, eh?  

Hubs was sure to equip our kids with head lamps. Just in case.

Introducing Mr. and Mrs. Duckie

They Clean Up Well, No?

We Called Her Mama Mia

Our own version of Freaky Friday, except it was Thursday. Mia was insisting she would love to be Mom for the day—any day, and for days on end—in place of being her own overworked, picked on, tragic self.

Game on.

I would do her chore and zone, and she would do what I normally do, along with enforcing house rules (as opposed to making up her own). As a bonus, she would demonstrate to the Hag who currently runs the household how a "Nice Mom" acts.

I promptly swept Mia's kitchen floor and threw in the mudroom floor for good measure. Next, I picked up and wiped her zone, the kids' bathroom. "Mama Mia, I did an extra good job on my zone for you :)" Then I was off to my bedroom for some one-on-one time with the computer. Ahhhhh. I visited and commented on blogs I hadn't seen in weeks and emailed a couple of contacts. My one-hour limit of screen time would be up soon enough, so I settled into a cuddlebag and watched some tv. I chatted with Hubs on the phone and then rocked out on my headphones and danced around the house.

Meanwhile... Mia looked after Elle and kept tabs on Cam and Cy all afternoon. The kids were all in on the switch, so when Cam needed his bottom wiped, and Cy needed a splinter pulled out of his palm, they knew who to call. She sent three kids to time-out for various offenses (which she enjoyed immensely). As occasion permitted, I showed her what I would have been doing, so she looked up the recipe I had in the works for dinner, did a couple of loads of laundry, wiped up marker from a doorjamb, re-swept up dirty footprints of four 9-year-olds running through the kitchen, wiped a spill on a shelf of the refrigerator, made a quick side-dish and rolls, and added cheese to the baking casserole. She figured it would be easier to just set the table herself rather than round up and prod the kids to do it, so she did. Elle was starving, so she got her situated in the highchair with her bib, a bowl of food and a sippy cup. After dinner, a diaper change, pajamas for Elle and Cam, checking and re-checking Getty's homework, rounding up the family for devotional, and getting the kids into bed.

What happened next was remarkable. Rob asked, "So, did you have fun, Mia?" She leaned her head on me and said quietly, "That was hard, Mom."

You should see the smile on my face.

To inhale suddenly with mouth open...

MK continues to insist that she doesn't like any boy in particular. Although, I did hear her inadvertently gasp as a certain teenage male of the species walked out of the church doors by our Burb, "Oh.... He's cute...." 

I don't think she knew I was in the car. I don't think she knew anyone existed outside of that beautiful specimen....

Pull-ups Prevent Translation

Rob and I are afraid Cam's going to be translated. 

If it weren't for regularly peeing the bed, he'd be perfect. We are therefore grateful for his inconveniently weak bladder. It's our insurance policy, if you will. (Plus, there's Pull-ups.)

Strike a Pose

Cy was so good to demonstrate to me how he sits, a-hem, poses on the back row during kindergarten rug time. The whole time. In this pose. This one shown here. Yes. Eyes riveted on the teacher. He barely moves. Except, perhaps, to wink at an admirer. 

I'm in love with this boy.

Skittles for Stuff

It occurred to me sometime last week... 

I used to pick up the house (heavy!) and organize the next day before I went to bed. I can't remember the last time that happened.

I used to have a "Daily Plan" I worked off of religiously (and daily). Now I use it maybe twice a week. I scribble out the day on top and write the current day, because the list of things to do is unchanged.

I don't leave the house, because Cy's kindergarten schedule and Elle's nap schedule just plain don't offer an opportunity of more than 15 minutes to run errands.

So, one day last week I actually wrote down everything I did, because I was curious. What in the HELLO do I do all day long?? I found out... I do laundry, dishes, carpool, shower, bathe and dress kids, pick up the house, change diapers, supervise chores, homework, feed kids. Rinse and repeat. 

I do stuff. 

Comforting. It's just that it's utterly forgettable. Or, perhaps I've taken the enlightened route and repressed it as I went.... 

Some days I remember. Like the Sunday Getty won Overall Reverence Child for his primary class for the MONTH of February (short month, but still...). Are you laughing? Turns out he's highly motivated by huge Rice Krispie treats and large bags of Skittles.

I wonder if maybe I'll be awarded a large bag of Skittles for the month of February. I did do a lot of dishes....

Craptacular

Getty's Valentine box. A work o fart, wouldn't you agree? 

"Sit on the pot and let your Valentine drop." Won 87% of the 3rd grade votes and 76% of the 4th grade votes for best Valentine box.

We're so proud.

Hunk-a, Hunk-a Burnin' Love

"I don't want to go to school today, Mom."

"Why?"

"Because at rug time, this girl puts her head on my shoulder."

"Hmmm...what could you do about that?"

"I don't know."

"Maybe you could wait til *Sadie sits down and then find a different place to sit."

"It wasn't Sadie. It was Brooklyn."

"Oh.... 

"Sadie's the one that raises her hand after you do and answers exactly how you did."

"No, that's Hannah."

"Oh.... 

"Is Sadie the one that draws pictures for you?"

"No, that's Macey."

"Oh.... 

"What does Sadie do?"

"She blows me a kiss in the middle of class."

"Oh.... 

"Good luck at school today, Sweetie ;)"

*(Names have been changed to protect the innocent. Just following your lead, Linda =)

Happy Valentine's Day

Wow. A lot has happened in 18-plus years. Rob looks so young and red-headed. He's gotten so gray that people think he's blonde.

Love my bangs-to-heaven look. Hairspray, and lots of it.

Little Miss Kiss

An announcement is in order. Elle has lifted her ban on kisses.

It's true.

And to celebrate, after bestowing smothery kisses, she flings her arms above her head as if to say, "Yay, Me!"

We agree. And merci beaucoup. We love you, Cuppy Cake. 

Middle School Isn't Pretty

MK has decided that everyone is pretty but her. [Me cringing.] She even saw a wedding photo of me and said, "Wow. You used to be pretty, Mom. I wonder why you didn't have any friends." [Uh...thanks. And I had some.]

She doesn't go around with her head hanging down, she just accepts this as a fact and tries to make the best of it. 

Middle school is grizzly.

I've posted the evidence—three photos of our Beauty, which I submit as proof of her teenage insanity. 

I rest my case.

Mrs. B. Gets an A

Getty loves his 3rd grade teacher, Mrs. B. He mentioned the other day that he was sitting next to her, so I probed, thinking he'd gotten into trouble (wild assumption, I know), but he said, "I sat by her, because I like her. She's the only teacher I've had that smiles a lot and laughs at my jokes." 

What do you figure we owe that teacher?

Sunday Awards

I got this idea from Linda Eyre (author of "Teaching Children Values"). You make up your own awards for whatever positive values you want to reinforce (I used mostly Eyre's ideas, because boy can I copy creativity!). I have used wooden blocks, but the new felt ones are more user-friendly. We take a minute on Sunday to discuss who deserves which award for the week and then hang the award on the person's bedroom doorknob. The letters on these awards stand for:

 

LFR: Leader for the Right

PA: Positive Attitude ("Cheer up! Things will get worse!" [Pres. Packer said that, not me])

RAM: Respect and Manners (desperately seeking)

SA: Soft Answer (Holy crow! This award is rare.)

TF: True Friend

HUP: Honesty Under Pressure ("Tell me the truth, or you're grounded for a week!")

SS: Self-starter ("I did my chores after you told me 8 times.")

Always looking for ways to use positive reinforcement, because (NTB) I've got natural talent for crime and punishment :).