You Know You're Getting Old When...

....you can't play on the tire swing anymore.

I found this one out the hard way yesterday. We took the kids to an event at a State Park last night. Prior to going to listen to the music, we stopped at a playground on the premises so they could play since we were a bit early (shocker there). Chuck was going to push the kids on the tire swing and the boys asked me to join them order to 'even it out'. Well, in the spirit on being a 'fun mom' and a non-party-pooper, I went and plopped myself down on the swing. Chuck starts out easy enough just pushing us back and forth. But then he starts in on the spinning us around action. For whatever reason, the combination of the two just put me over the edge. I started getting super dizzy. In order to combat that effect, I decided to close my eyes. That, my friends, was my downfall. Although I may have been smiling on the outside while hanging on for dear life, my insides were deciding they wanted to be on the outside. I felt as though I was on a roller coaster. I don't do roller coasters. I have a super low tolerance for scary, bumpy, fast turning rides, all the elements that this little venture was turning out to be. I begged with my life for the 'fun' to stop. I couldn't even get off the thing. Chuck practically dragged me off. I stumbled over to the grassy area as would a drunken person. I made it far enough away from the park and started dry heaving. Thankfully, nothing else emerged. The kids are still hanging on for dear life, moaning and groaning and laughing about how dizzy they are as Chuck continues to push them in maddening circles. They think this is fun. Their moaning and groaning seems to fade as soon as they exit the ride, mine however, has become my constant companion.

It took a very long time for me to walk, in a straight line, back to a bench to sit down. I'm dizzier than all get out right now. It doesn't help that there is a windmill not even 100 yards away that I'm facing. Just looking at it and hearing it is making me even dizzier. Then a headache decides to join in on the fun. Ok already! I learned my lesson! I won't ever try to get on one of those types of swings in the name of fun ever again...just make it stop! I'm guessing this is what motion sickness feels like...with the added bonus of a migraine coming on.

But, alas, the fun hasn't even begun yet. We make it over to the area where we get to hear a live band play. As if the dizziness and headache wasn't enough, now the deafening sound added to my previous condition, makes me run out of the room more nauseous than I was on the swing. I successfully evade throwing up infront of the musicians, make it to the rest room for more dry heaves and apologize to the event coordinators. I asked them to please tell the musicians that their music didn't make me sick, I just couldn't handle the level of the noise with my migraine. I can barely walk out of there. Now I was about to pass out on top of everything else. Can this night get any more fun?

We had to all ride home to complete silence as I held my head with my hand over my mouth and tried to focus on a non-moving object so I could make it home without throwing up. As the night wore on and medicine kicked in, I started feeling human again. But a funny thing happens after I take my medicine and come off a migraine, I can't think straight. It takes a long time fore me to think of a word, or just plain think for that matter, everything is in slow motion it feels like. So, as you can imagine, I was still alot of fun to be around.

I don't think my children will ever again ask me to join them on the swing. We're all much better off if I stick to playing board games and reading with them.

Bowling - Mallott Style

What could be more fun than dollar night at the bowling alley? Exactly - not much else. So we packed up the crew after dinner and headed to the local hot spot. I thought everyone would be there on a Tuesday night with a deal such as this. Apparently, I thought wrong. We were like only the 3rd group there and that was to last for only the first 10 minutes. After that, we had the joint to ourselves. Probably better that way so no-one was there to witness our group failure at the sport. Here's how we did it in picture form:

First...start by finding the coolest ball, whether or not it's the right weight...cool is all that matters, really.

When things don't seem to be going your way, we allow 'frustrated faces and noises'. Gavin had many, many of these.

So many in fact, that he decided to shoot his ball. That's just one of the many benefits to being the only patrons in the entire establishment.

Try hard to look as though you're enjoying yourself. Remember this is supposed to be fun!

Chloe knows all about fun. Thankfully for us, the music was blaring, so we had our own in house dancer. She was probably celebrating the fact that she was beating all of us until about the 5th frame.

This is why. She got the ramp that helps your ball go straight. The boys both tried to use it, but once they saw me break out the camera and point it at them, they immediately pretended they were helping Chloe. Nice try, but we'll always know the truth, even if I didn't get it documented.

Lastly, throw yourself on the floor and have a good, old-fashioned temper tantrum at the end of the game so the kids know how to be good sports. Again, thankful for no other audience members. Actually, Chuck thought I won, that's why he found himself on the floor, but once he picked him self up from his exaggerated pose, and viewed the scoreboard, he happily deduced that he had actually beat me 9 whole points. We were both just happy that we beat Chloe.

Worst Case Scenario

I have inadvertently discovered to whom this odd gene I carry has been passed down to...my beloved firstborn. One day we were taking Ninja on a walk together and he was telling me about his day at school. He told me he was so worried all day because he had forgotten his phone. I said, "Well, it shouldn't matter anyway since you can't make or receive calls/texts while at school. So why worry?"

Ahhh...but there is ample reason to worry. You see, he carries it 'just in case' the school might be bombed, or blow up or catch on fire or if there is a tornado or if the bus flips over on his way too or from school. This is what he explained to me. I cannot tell you how infinitely better I feel knowing he has a plan in place for 'just in case' any of the catastrophes occur. I can rest easy everyday sending my sweet boy to school knowing that if they are bombed, he is ready and waiting with his phone.

And just for the record, I never put any of these thoughts in his head. They found their way there all on their own. My guess is reading one too many Calvin and Hobbes books. All I know is I am so going to freak out if I ever get a phone call from him during school hours. Then my 'worst case scenario' mind is going to go into overdrive.

The Big Jump of 2011

Yesterday was a day filled with lots of outdoor work around the house. It was a wonderful day all working together as a family. But there was one thing we couldn't all do together and that was get up on the roof. Chuck had to paint something up there as well as clean the gutters. I can't even type that without a silly, little, childish giggle escaping. Thanks to Bennett, gutters have a totally different meaning in this house. Thankfully he didn't find any jelly beans up there (those are what Bennett has in his gutters).

So, he spent alot of time with the gutters (he-he), scraping out years worth of leaves and scummy build-up. Of course, I was his helper. I got to hold the ladder on his ascent up, hand him trash bags, position the dumpster just so so that he could throw down bags of trash directly into it = all the important stuff.

Then it came time to get off the roof. I dutifully go to my position as ladder holder and am instructed to guide his foot so that it touches the top of the 8 foot ladder. As soon as I commence my job, he starts yelling at me to stop pulling him. I guess we both have two different assumptions as to what "guide" means. He rarely yells at anything, so I could tell he was scared (he would say 'just nervous').

We had some pretty lengthy conversations at this point about how he was going to descend from the roof. He said there was nothing for him to grab onto but the gutters and he didn't want to rip them off. Again, we can't even talk about this without laughing our heads off. Apparently, the ladder is about 2-3 feet too short to comfortably slide off the roof and have me "guide" his foot onto. What to do?

He finally decides he's going to jump. We guesstimate it to be about a 12 foot leap from the lowest part of our roof to our nicely padded grass lawn. I offer to go drag a mattress out. He refuses. I figure he doesn't need me to "guide" anything any more and since I'm so scared of heights (even for other people), I go hide in the garage where I can't see him break anything upon his descent.

Bennett is the only other witness to this event. Once I see Chuck walking around the corner with no blood and all his limbs intact into the garage, I deem it ok to come out of hiding. Bennett comes around the corner exclaiming Dad's greatness. Chuck plays it cool like there was nothing to it, "All you got to do once you hit the ground is tuck and roll, Buddy. Remember that, tuck and roll." Bennett is beaming at his super hero jumping Dad.

All that for clean gutters.

Fillin Up The Love Tank

It dawned on us yesterday that we have been going non-stop for over two months now with all this move stuff. It is all consuming it seems. There's always something to do. The work is never ending. But it comes with a price. The price for us is time. Time together is one of our family's biggest love languages. It doesn't matter if we're at Legoland or sitting on the floor playing Uno, as long as we are giving each other undivided attention, we feel our love tanks filling up. Needless to say, we've been guilty of giving a lot of divided attention as of late. I try to squeeze a minute in here or there with one of them, but no one has been given my devoted attention. Until today.

We thought we would surprise the kids with an hour of 100% Mommy and Daddy time today. Each kid would get 1 hour of our undivided attention to do whatever they wanted to do with us. It was pure bliss. Our agenda did not rule. Our only joy was to see their joy. I've done this once before...I don't know why I waited so long to do it again. It is a wonderful way to keep those heart connections strong.

The first hour I spent with Gavin and Daddy spent with Chloe. I was welcomed into the world of Bionicles with open arms. I got to play Bionicles with Gavin for 30 minutes...I even won two of the battles we fought - I have no idea how, he just said I did. We also got to play a game together, play Legos and read a book about volcanoes. Chuck ended up being Chloe's horse for 30 minutes. She couldn't have been happier. They also played several games involving blocks and shape pieces.

The next hour I was indulged in "Spa Day" with Chloe while Chuck and Bennett did some bonding over wrestling and football. I have to say, I really lucked out. I was treated to a hair and makeup session. She even let us take a break and have a yogurt snack. Bonus! Then we were on to her Playmobil Horse Farm. Man, time flies when you're having fun.

The last hour Chuck and Gavin played Yu-Gi-O cards (I have no clue what that means) the whole time. Bennett spent part of the time explaining his Yu-Gi-O cards to me (which went right over my head). We also played a game and kicked the soccer ball. We still had time left so I asked him what he wanted to do. He said, "Let's Cuddle." It couldn't have been a more wonderful time. It was a cold, gray day out and cuddling under the quilt telling silly stories to each other was just perfect.

It's amazing to see what your kids choose to do with you when they're given total freedom to choose and know they have your undivided attention completely focused on them. Their thankfuls at dinner were all the same, "I'm thankful for my time with Mom and Dad". That was also Chuck's and my thankful. I'd say our Love Tanks are back on "full".

Down on the Farm

This past weekend we changed our city clothes for country clothes. I guess the only change of attire that was noticeable was the lovely Target bags around our sneakers since only one of us owns mud boots (lucky Chloe). The above farm was the view from the one we were at.

Chloe looked right at home with her cute pink (toy) rifle and mud boots. Not to even mention the fact that she's the only one of us who knows how to ride a real horse, not just one of those little ponies that is led around in a circle at a petting zoo (that would be me). She's a natural cowgirl.

Another noticeable difference between us city slickers and the locals was that we carried our dog around. While all the other 8 dogs were free to roam, ours is getting carried like a baby. I'm sure she was embarrassed out of her mind, but practicality won out with us. We just didn't feel up to cleaning mud off of her for the next 3 days. Seriously, the mud was over a foot deep.

I don't think #11 was all too pleased with the mud situation either. How can you resist a face like this? He is only 2 weeks old.

We really enjoyed our time visiting Aunt Lu and Uncle Joel and the cows, and the horses, and the goats and the pigeons and the bunnies and the chickens and the geese and the dogs.

But the most wonderful thing about being on the farm was the serenity, the "fresh" air (if you just try to block out all that manure smell) and the wide open spaces. I never tire of sunsets and sunrises. I stand in awe each time like it was the first and only one I've ever seen. I probably took 10 photos just like this one:

This is what I woke up to the next morning (thank you Ninja for needing to go potty at the break of dawn). Another day I'm thankful to be alive.

Vernacular Habits

If you are Gavin, you read at least 1 book a day, sometimes more. Because of this extensive reading habit of his, he's also acquired, as a side benefit, a monstrous vocabulary. I'm reminded of this every time I speak with him. Not only does it come naturally for him to speak this way, he's also the kind of person who thinks before he speaks (unlike his mother) and contemplates just the right word to express his thoughts. Here are some examples that occurred within the past 24 hours only:

When asked how he was enjoying his time at a relative's farm he replies, "It's a nice environment." What kid says that??

When asked when his ichat with a friend was he tells me, "Well, it's either Tuesday or Wednesday." That didn't make much sense to me, so I continued on with, "How do you know which day?" He answers, "I'll call him at the appointed time on each day to find out." Oh good...the appointed time. I hope your friend knows when the 'appointed time' is.

As he's helping me add trim to some window treatments, "Wow, Mom, this is some strenuous work!" Yes my son, that's exactly what I do all day...work strenuously.. Now if I could just remember that when somebody asks me what it is I do.

I just love this kid.

Adventures in Bussing

In between posts, ALOT has changed. We've moved across country, sold a house, bought a house, and enrolled the kids in school. Our life in a nutshell.

Anyways, Gavin has always wanted to ride a bus. Ever since he was 3 and saw that big, shiny, irresistible, yellow piece of awesomeness on wheels, that has been his life's goal. Which unfortunately, didn't really coincide with homeschooling. There are no buses in the home school. Bummer.

So when the kids found out they would be going to school, Gavin was elated with the thought of having the opportunity to finally ride his beloved bus. We were told where his bus stop would be in our neighborhood. Since everything is new to all of us, we decided to take a family walk to his bus stop so we all knew where he would be standing each morning at 7am. It takes him all of 2 minutes (maybe 1 if he walks fast) to get around the corner.

Monday morning finally came, his first day riding the bus. We send him out the door with kisses and well wishes of his first day of Middle School in a new state. He was beaming with pride. Chuck left a little later than usual just so he could drive past the bus stop and make sure Gavin was indeed picked up. He drove past the location and noticed that Gavin was the only one standing on the corner. How odd. He rolled down the window and asked Gavin where all the other kids were (one of his many rhetorical questions he likes to throw at us that nobody ever knows the answers to). Gavin just shrugged, trying to play it cool.

This is where it starts to get dicy. Instead of picking up that little modern convenience called a cellular phone, Chuck decided to drive back home and come ask me, "Are you sure you got the right location for the bus stop? Gavin was the only one standing there."

"Oh no!" I gasp. As comes normal to me, I assume I heard the bus guy wrong and messed everything up on Gavin's very first day of his commemorative bus riding experience. It's all in shambles now. I start to panic as I sift thru my purse looking for the piece of paper where I wrote the cross streets down for the bus stop. Since my purse is in disarray and I have like 12,000 random pieces of paper in it and school starts in like 10 minutes we decide that Chuck should just go back, pick him up and drive him there so he won't be late. We'll worry about the right bus stop place later.

He leaves the house and drives back around the corner. He calls me (this time), "He's not here." WHAT?! How can my son be there one minute and not the next? Great! We've lost Gavin on his first day of school. He's smart enough to know not to get in the car with a stranger, so we deduce that either a bus came and got him or he walked to another location looking for a group of kids to get on a bus with. Oh boy! What have we done?! Maybe sending them to school wasn't the best decision.

Chuck high tails it to the school and sits in the parking lot waiting for the buses so he can watch each kid getting off the bus so he can spot our eldest. Great - now we're looking like stalkers. Nobody knows us in this town yet and here we are stalking their schools, kids and buses. Not good. Chuck calls me back and says he's going in.

He goes into the office and explains what happened. They laugh and check the schedule and confirm that he was indeed at the correct bus stop but that bus was running late this morning. Apparently, it came when Chuck came home to update me on Gavin's situation. Relieved, he sits in the office and waits for Gavin since he knows he has to come to the office on his first day (don't even get me going on how I wanted to be able to walk him in on his first day - but he was adamant that he wanted to and could do it all by himself).

Finally, Chuck sees Gavin saunter in. Gavin glances over at him, ignores him and walks straight to the desk to say, "I'm new. Today's my first day." Chuck goes over to him and tells him we just wanted to make sure he got there ok. Gavin nods yet stays cool, calm and collected waiting for instructions from the secretary. Chuck called me to tell me that our boy is where he should be, we can now rest easy. Whew. Disaster averted. But now Daddy is all sad that his son is acting all nonchalant about seeing him there. We chalk it up to being 12.

Gavin gets home at 2:45. Thankfully, the bus drops him off in the right location. We enjoy 30 minutes of tea and cookies and sharing our days with each other. I asked him if he was surprised to see Daddy waiting in the office and he said, "No. I knew he'd be there." I explained our side of the story to him and he explained his side to me. Funny stuff. He said he was so nervous all day, he just wanted to talk to the secretary and find out where he was supposed to go, he didn't have time to assure Daddy that all was well. He was a man on a mission.

I am proud to report that we haven't lost him once since then.

Prayer Request

Today was the day I was to pack Gavin's room. This is a huge mountain for me to climb. Gavin is a pack rat. I am a minimalist. There were bound to be a few issues we had to hurdle. To put it mildly, I was feeling a little stressed. Plus, I had the added bonus of three helpers who do not know how to read my mind, thus, can inadvertently add to the stress levels of the day.

It will come as no surprise to anyone that I became a tad bit snappy in response to the million and one questions thrown my way while trying to make some headway into the depths of Gavin's junk...uh, I mean room. It was apparent to all that Mommy was not happy. That situation is not allowed in this house. Everyone pitched in and gave their best effort to the cause of 'Make Mommy Happy Again'.

Gavin decided saying "I love you" every 3 minutes was what I needed. He can't function, apparently, when I'm upset. Chloe just stayed away (smart move). And Bennett tells me nonchalantly, "Mom, I just prayed. I'm waiting for it to kick in."

I was so frustrated that I didn't even see the humor in what he said, I just replied, "Me too, Buddy, me too." But when I actually stopped and assessed the situation...saw my frustration being handled wrong and the kids bending over backwards to try to make me happy again, I realized that's just what I needed...Bennett's prayer to 'kick in' so I could get back on track and stop focusing on the mess and enjoy doing it with the kids instead.

I left the house for a bit. Came back refreshed. Laughed my head off at Bennett's response. And thanked God that it finally kicked in. Got home, made apologies. All is well in our world again.

And, as an added bonus...Gavin's room is completely packed...and I'm still happy.

Truth Is Stranger Than Fiction

*not actual pig in our yard - image found on internet (photo credit Raul Romero Jr)

I was out running an errand today when I received this call from Gavin,

"Hi Mom. How are you? Um....I was just calling to tell you that I, uh, just saw a pink pig in our yard."

"Uh...excuse me? Did you just say a pig?"

"Ya."

"Is this a joke Honey?"

"No. I was just laying here reading and then I heard Ninja bark so I looked out the window and there was a little pink pig in our front garden."

"Seriously? A pink pig?"

"Yep."

"Where is it now?"

"I don't know."

"Hurry! Run and find it and take a picture! I've GOT to see this!"

"Okay. Goodbye Mom."

Chloe and Bennett were with me and heard only my end of the conversation. Chloe asks, "What was that?" I told her, "Your brother saw a little piggy in front of our house. I told him to go take a picture."

Are you really ever prepared for when someone tells you they saw a pig in your yard? How are you supposed to react?

We zoom home in hopes of seeing the piggy but were met with no such luck. We even went on a search and rescue mission enabling the help of our dear Ninja, but still couldn't find the little pink pig. Bummer.

Then about an hour later, my neighbor texts me, "Get this...my husband was driving past your house and saw a pig next to it...yes, I just said a pig." I'm sure she wasn't expecting me to say, "Ya, I know."

Our greatest fear is upon us. The national geographic channel's prophecy is coming true, we are finally under attack by the feral hog. In our case, the pink piggy.

It's rather hard to know what to expect to happen next at this house, isn't it?!

We're On TV!

I'm thinking that maybe we've been watching a bit too much Food Network lately. Let me tell you how I know. My beloved off-spring have decided to make their own cooking show and narrate it as they are making their own lunches - EVERY SINGLE DAY! This is how I know. This is pure craziness I tell you. Where do these people come up with this?

Everyday before lunch, Chloe asks, "Boys, do you want to do our cooking shows while we're getting lunch today?" To which they both reply with equal vigor, "YES!" Let the good times begin. Today I decided to stop what I was doing and document this event. I'm not sure how long this stint will last, so I wanted to make sure and capture every crazy minute of it.

In the first kitchen we have Chloe. Her show is titled: "The Perfect Lunch". The entire premise of her show is how to set things pretty, like on the table and on your plate (in her own words). She is meticulous about cutting everything and placing it in the exact right position on her plate. Because you know, there is a wrong and a right way to do everything and she is only going to do the right way. She slices, she dices, she arranges...with her, it's all about the presentation. If she didn't learn anything from her mother, she at least learned that!

In the second kitchen we have Bennett. His show is called: "What To Do In Case Of An Explosion". The premise of this ramshackle event is, "don't put a fork in the microwave cuz there will be an explosion", spoken like a true narrator. He says the best part of the show is "you get to watch me chomp". These are apparently important soundbites for the show. Lastly, he has one final important part - eating the burnt food that no one else wants.

In the third kitchen we have Gavin. He calls his show: "Hubert's Happy Bar". He tells me that it's about how to make identical, 30 minute meals for 2 months in a row and then watch him eat the same thing over and over and over on every show. Lot's of originality going on here.

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And last but not least...me. This is all taking part in my kitchen, under my roof. Not that I have my own show or anything - but the kids would just love it if I did. They keep telling me, "Mom, you have to go on the Food Network with this recipe - everyone will love it." That's when I expose the biggest scam of my entire life...everything I cook is borrowed from someone else. I don't do anything original. I'm a fake. I don't smile while I'm chopping onions like dear Giada. She doesn't trip over the dog while she's cooking. She also doesn't run out of ingredients in the middle of a show and have to run to the store (like I so often do). She never tastes something after she's done cooking it and says, "Oooo gross...you guys are so not going to like that. Don't make that recipe at home."

Welcome to my world. Here, food is under and over cooked often. I forget ingredients, I can't get everything done and on the table at the same time. At least one person at the table hates at least one food item on the table at every meal. Giada's hair is always perfect, her clothes never wrinkled and her make-up is on. Therefore, you can assume that rarely is my hair done, my make-up on and I'm usually in jeans and a t-shirt. But the one thing we do have in common is - I am so going to make that table look good! Something about this meal will look good - I'm determined about that! That's my show - "Real Life Cooking with Mommy". I have a feeling it's much more attainable for the rest of the population.

Bennett's Change of Plans

This morning, as soon as I woke up, Bennett informed me that he's had a change of plans for his future profession. He announces, "Mom, there are several reasons I don't want to be a pro-football player anymore when I grow up:

1. I'd have to spend too much time away from my family

2. I don't want to wake up every morning with a sore back

3. It will be hard to do the budget with so much money to worry about

4. The taxes on my house will be too high.

But then, now I don't know what I want to be when I grow up?"

After a while of talking about his favorite thing in the world, animals, his face lights up, "I know, I could do a student exchange program and go down to Australia in college cuz they have a falcon rescue operation there!"

Perfect!