Grandmothers

A lot has happened this week to keep me from writing.  I probably should have been writing all along but there are times in my life when just getting the minimum accomplished is a feat.  Last week, on Tuesday, November 10, 2009, I lost my Grammy.  As a child I loved my Grammy and thought she was so tall.  I wanted to be just like her.  I had two amazing Grandmothers, completely alike in some ways and completely different in others.  Grandma Hall was salt-of-the-earth.  She wore hardly any make-up, and when she did it seemed more out of obligation and expectation than pleasure or pride.  Grammy was the sky.  She enjoyed putting on her face and taking care of her skin and trying to stay young-looking.  Both were strong business women.  Both were ridiculous examples of Christians.  Both of them loved me.

There has only been one sunny day since she died and that was Friday, the day I had so much to accomplish.  I think a little sunshine would help me cheer up and I would love some family time but it just is so raw still.  Today is my birthday and I understand how Jess felt everytime we lost a Hall.  I know it will not always be this way but it does kind of suck that it is right now.  My daughter.  My daughter, Kelsey, got up and played her little giant heart out on the violin.  She played Oh, Danny Boy and it was so amazing to watch her just get up there and play.  I was so nervous for her and she was so confident and I remember being the same way with my mom.  She was so awed by me and I was thinking how average I was all along.  Here I am knowing how she felt as well.

I should be cleaning my house for the company I am going to have tomorrow night.  I really want to reschedule the dentist appointments and spend the day with my aunt and my sister and my mom but we'll see.  I think my aunt is in a rough place right now and I respect that.  I need to clean anyway.  And go to Costco and the store.  We have eaten out constantly and I hate it when we do that.  Now I feel like I am babbling and it must be time for me to wrap it up. 

Spouting Off

I was disappointed when Larry Johnson allowed himself to be baited by a fan on twitter. This ended up with Larry using homosexual slurs and basically making a jerk of himself. I am not personally a fan of his...never have been. He has always been quick to say what is on his mind and usually, it seemed, it was not nice or positive. For a while here in KC he was dubbed a cry-baby. He wanted to be a super-star his rookie year and complained consistently. His father also was vocal about how he felt about his son's lack of snaps. Most recently LJ criticized the coaching staff and implied his father was more qualified to coach the Chiefs than Todd Haley.

plastic cups

I did not get a book purchased yesterday. I didn't get much besides some bathroom cleaning and some laundry, dinner, running up to the school to get Reflections submissions for the PTA, played outside for an hour, went to the grocery store, took Will to skate night and while there worked on some PTA stuff, came home and worked on some PTA stuff. So maybe instead of the "find the real meaningful purpose to your life" book, I might need the family manager/planner book. Maybe I should go shopping for one right now...that is exactly what I feel like doing. Blowing off all responsibility, like vacuuming and more laundry, and SHOPPING. Doesn't that sound fun?

I threw away all the plastic cups in the house the other day because I knew if I didn't just get it over with I would hang on to them forever and ever and keep using them. Most of them didn't even have numbers on the bottom classifying them...scary! Now I need glasses, I have some but they are not very kid friendly. I need to find something for Will. Off to the meaningful vacuuming I am going to do today. Meaningful because it is a way I attempt to keep the allergies at bay...I keep reminding myself that it is bigger than cleaning...it is caring.

A Book

I think a book is in order. As a matter of fact, I think a couple of books might be in order. I am still searching for the answer. The career that will give me some financial independence, feed my soul, keep me interested and challenged...no biggie...I think I need an expert to tell me how to do this because my muddling it up is getting old.

I am going to get a book. If I don't manage to figure out what it is I want to do I will get another book. I think I have a problem. I can't decide who or what I want to be. I want to get this figured out and I will continue to work on this until I accomplish it...

I do get distracted by life, Tuesday it was the orchestral performance and finding elance...that sucked up a couple or three days of my life. I am so sorry but I am not willing to write 1000 articles for $500! There are a few legitimate leads but geez there are a bunch of people with high ratings and tons of experience getting all the good work. Maybe I can find something decent, maybe not, we'll see.

I have to stay focused, full of intent in finding the meaningful career I just know I am destined to eventually find. I feel similar to my sister. She hasn't found her meaningful match but I think she is satisfied with her career (most of the time). I am so restless career-wise but completely at peace (most of the time) with my match.

Orchestra Recital

Last night was one of those evenings. Kelsey had a recital at her school and Will took this opportunity to push my buttons and be impossible. Of course he didn't want to put on shoes, or his jacket, or go at all. We couldn't find the Nintendo DS, which I distinctly remembered returning to its case only yesterday. Will, as I was pulling his sweatshirt over his head, (he had lost his zip-up hoodie on the playground earlier) chose this moment to ask if we could go to Target to get his "reward". I owe him a small reward for remaining in control and not being sent to the "safe spot" at school for a whole month. I explained to him that the reward was not at the top of my priority list, that we were running late for Kelsey's recital and I was focused on getting there on time. I threw a book in my bag for him, filled up my water bottle, and off we went. Will was happily occupied with the Kids Almanac through the PTA meeting, through the 7th grade orchestra playing two pieces and the 8th grade orchestra's first piece-then it started to get shaky. Voice volume began rising as he said, "This book isn't really anything for me right now, you got anything else interesting in there?" I came up with the pages in my planner marked "Notes for my Novel" and a pen. I told him, as the second song began, to draw me a picture of what the song made him think of. The orchestra played and after the song was over he showed me his picture of a person in a box with notes around their head and I asked what it was and he said, "Elevator Music! It makes me think of riding in an elevator."

Halloween Junk

Plastic stuff from China all over my kitchen island is what I found Sunday morning after spending the wee hours hunched over the toilet. Regretting the velveeta and ground beef dip, the cherries covered first in a layer of coconut and crushed walnuts then coated with chocolate; definitely regretting the candy corn.

The evening started innocently enough. I had the normal Halloween day of running around frantically buying the last touches for the costumes. The clip to make the bow a hair accessory, the knee socks, a thimble so we could finish retrofitting an adult double-blaster-holster so Will could be authentic in his Jango Fett-ness. We ended up only being a couple of minutes late to the party and all was well. I did, however give myself a black eye early in the evening when my cell phone rang and I smacked myself in the head trying to answer it.

I gave myself permission to eat whatever I wanted Saturday night. I normally eat pretty healthy. No hydrogenated oils at my house, no conventional apples or potatoes. You won't find macoroni and cheese, canned tomatoes, beef or anything that goes from a box to the dinner table. I endulged. I ate con queso dip and sour cream dip and candy, candy, candy. I did break from the junk long enough to eat a bowl of vegetable soup along with 2 slices of a French baguette. Then I went to bed. I woke up at 4:30 a.m. rushing to the bathroom.

I finally stopped around 6:00 a.m. then slept a little before coming downstairs to the aftermath. Just like the junk food that poisoned my digestive system, the toys were crowding my normally neat kitchen island. The piece of plastic with the circles and the hole in the middle and you try to get the tiny bee bee into the center hole. The stick with the paper wound round and round it and then you fling it at someone and make them flinch. I also found spider rings and plastic skeletons and all of it went in the bag I keep for my mom's classroom. I recycle what I can but these plastic odds and ends, the toys from McDonald's, the stuff the kids bring home with them after a birthday party, these cannot be recycled. I try to make sure these things get reused by giving them to my mom to use as prizes in her classroom. She often has students who don't get a lot in the way of material things and to them these plastic pieces are treasures. I know it will end up in the landfill eventually but at least I put it off a little while.

Of course this is coming from the same woman who stripped at least $20 worth of reworked rubber and plastic off of her son when he couldn't even walk because of all the gear he had to have, which of course we had to buy!

Let's go on a diet. I challenge parents to give consumable products as favors at parties, or just a smile and a, "thanks for coming!". We are overstuffing our mouths and our homes barely leaving room for our lives and as long as our existence thrives on things this will be our fate. Obese people in over-stuffed houses scooting to work, then the shopping center and finally the restaurant.

Don't even get me started on shopping for a costume with a 13-year-old girl!

This morning...

So this morning it was brought to my attention that I might have something to offer in the way of writing about sports. It would be nice to be able to do so, it would be fun and my husband and I are sports fans. Pretty much all sports all the time. Funny since we were BOTH cheerleaders in high school. Neither of us athletes in the typical mid-west American definition. My husband was a gymnast and was elite at one time. He also tried his hand at wrestling and is good enough with a racket and some clubs. Sometimes he has to be reminded who turned him on to golf and I am happy to do it. That makes me a golfer and currently a runner and undisciplined yogi. More importantly we are fans. We are the fuel for the market.

We have season tickets and buy gear emblazoned with our favorite teams names. We pay to park and tailgate for hours before the game. We dutifully stand and scream while our team is on defense, we learn all the chants and cheers and download our favorite stadium or theme song music. (Come on Dana White, get that theme song on iTunes where I can find it. I want the intro for The Ultimate Fighter on my workout playlist!) We follow on facebook and twitter and watch Hard Knocks. We DVR games we attend and watch embarrassing hours of football, MMA, hockey, college basketball, olympics. We IM each other throughout the day with clips from youtube and links to a Rick Reilly piece.

So I have been on this epic quest for my calling. The vocation I can be passionate about (besides raising my children myself). Maybe this has something to do with it. It is my favorite past-time. Sports. I am an athlete. Kind of. Mostly I want to have a great time and offer a new perspective maybe. One from a woman who truly enjoys the sports but isn't trying to be masculine. A woman who honestly cares about these guys who play each week for her. I don't watch to please my husband anymore, I can't imagine spending an autumn Sunday doing anything but watching football. I watch because it is amazing what can happen when athletes are performing at their peak. Because it is interesting. Because it is fun. Really fun.

Who will care?

My new challenge is figuring out what is it that makes me special enough, interesting enough or enough of an authority on something to actually get paid to write about it. I recently read a decent autobiography of a junkie. A real one. I have had a couple of isolated dramatic circumstances but certainly not enough to fill the pages of a novel. I follow my friend's blog, he writes about his training as a soldier preparing to deploy to Afghanistan. I don't even have a passport. I have been reading a lot of information about parenting gifted children. I have no test scores to prove my son is gifted and I if I am researching then how am I qualified to advise? I became a fan of a woman who writes about her life as a mom. I am a mom but I don't feel qualified to train one! I think I just have to keep writing. Somewhere there is an idea, a piece of me will eventually surface as the topic, the direction, and I will keep writing until I find it. After all, I am a writer, right?

The first time I KNEW what was going to happen was when I was 10. My grandfather was in the Intensive Care Unit at Johnson County Community Hospital. The hospital where everyone in my life went, where I and my sister and all our friends were born. The nearest one. It was his third heart attack and things were different this time.

I don't exactly remember the other times, although there are stories like the copperhead one. It's a good one for another day. I just know he was diabetic, which meant he couldn't have sugar and had to give himself shots. I used to love to watch him give himself a shot in the thigh or hip, standing there in his boxers in the bathroom with the bright orange and yellow and brown seventies flowers on the wallpaper. I remember one was the shape of a bird, further accented by a nail hole from a picture no longer hanging, in exactly the spot an eye would be. I also liked sitting in his lap in his leather arm-chair with a Diet Pepsi in a glass bottle. We would watch Hee-Haw and the Grand Ole Opry. Once in a while we would watch a cop show like Hill Street Blues or Hawaii Five-O. This time was different because he was in the hospital a long time it seemed and everyone was whispering instead of talking. I was bored at the hospital and really mad I couldn't see him. They kept telling me I needed to be 12 and I could not see what the difference was. Did they think I was going to cause trouble or be loud? Did they think I would cry? Grammy came and got me and Jessica, not Grandpa Hall's wife but my mom's mom. We went to her house to spend the night and we would go to church with her in the morning. I never missed Sunday school back then, ever. My Sunday school teacher, also named Bette with an 'e', gave us candy for memorizing our scriptures and I was to recite the 10 Commandments the next morning.

I remember Lori was not there and it was scary in that room without her. There is this doll, at least it was still there last time I looked. It scared me and I remember Grammy having us go tinkle before tucking us into bed. I dreamt that night that Grandpa died and we stayed at Grandma Hall's house for a couple of weeks, I even dreamt details like my sister's birthday and a conversation I later had with Grandma. The next morning we got up and ate breakfast and got dressed for church, I was so excited to get my candy. Mint was my favorite. I could hear Grammy on the phone but even though I was only a few feet away in the bathroom I couldn't tell what she was saying. She and my mom both have this low, murmur of a voice mostly envied, only occaisionally irritatingly quiet. This normally would be one of those times but this sense of dread was coming over me and instead of being annoyed by not knowing what was going on I was sad because I knew what was going on. That's not when it changed, though, I went along with Grammy and pretended not to know. I went to Sunday school and it didn't really change until that moment on the stoop in front of the side doors of the church. Next to the new parking lot I received the news that my Grandpa had died and confirmation that I had dreamt an event before it happened.

Jack

I am completely moved to write again. Inspired partially by my friend who is blogging his training and preparation for a deployment to Afghanistan and partially by my need to figure out what it is I am on this earth for. I know, right? So cliche. But truly I am a confused person maybe because of all the responsibility in my life right now. I feel more connected to what I do each day more than I have since high school. This is a good thing, however, I would really like to earn some money again someday and here I am with a second chance at choosing a rewarding career, one that falls into that, "choose a job you love and you will never have to work a day in your life"- confucius, category. I think I am a writer but of course that doesn't mean one can just go out and get paid to be a writer. One must write the piece that gets published, the one they were supposed to write. So I have more time on my hands with a first grader in school; so I will write. About everything. We will see what happens.

I dreamt about my old church last night and I remember being in the sanctuary and I think I was at a wedding but I think it was mine. I am not sure. I remember getting a lot of attention. I have been thinking about my faith a lot lately and yesterday I was remembering my first tastes of Christianity. My Beginning as a Follower of Christ. I remember Jack Carmichael. He is one of my earliest literal memories. I can go back in my mind and sense an environment of calm love and complete safety but my first real memory in the church is of Jack. I am told I would sit in the pew with Mom and Dad and just watch him as a toddler, eyes wide, enthralled by his movement and volume. I remember him in his robe. He had a cloth around his neck that changed with the seasons. His microphone was little and clipped to the collar and when he would pause you could hear his breathing, his heart pumping more inspiration through him so he could share some more. He moved across the floor, not on the altar, but down the stairs on the floor in front of us. When he lifted his arms the sleeves of the robe made angel wings and he would look to the sky, hands up and raise his voice to ensure we knew exactly of Who he spoke. I understood, even then, it was the Spirit's presence that made my heart pound and grow large just like it is right now as I write this, as I recall watching someone doing exactly what they were supposed to be doing at exactly the time they were supposed to be doing it. I want to be There.

*Eunice*

Kelsey is back from JBA and my home seems a little more normal again. She had the time of her life, of course, and is now trying to adjust to living with her Mom again. I think it was enlightening for her to see other kids like her, who get it. Hopefully it gives her something to look forward to in college besides keg stands. She is already begging to go back next year and I am pretty motivated to get her there everytime I can so I am brainstorming for fundraising ideas. Ideally Kelsey would be able to raise the money herself, learning that all important money lesson. (insert 13-year old eye-roll here)

Lately it seems like I am noticing more and more that most people I run into are rude and unaware of anything around them except what their particular mission is in whatever place I am. I am tired of parents allowing their children to push and shove their way to the front of the line. It is up to us as parents to teach our children how to be polite and considerate. I am disenchanted with going in public. It seems to me that it is getting worse and worse and I don't know what to tell my kids when they say, "well all those kids are doing it." Except, "well, they are rude and their parents are even more rude for allowing such bad behavior." Somehow I don't think it is satisfying to my 6 and a half year old. My thirteen year old is showing signs she understands although they are fleeting. One of the nice things about JBA...all the kids and parents were polite. Everyone said, "excuse me" when they needed to pass by, people held doors for each other. If someone saw you struggling to get a cup off the top of the stack because your hands were full, they helped you. It was really refreshing to be around a mass of polite people. Do you ever look behind you to find a person fuming, rolling their eyes, tapping their toe etc.? I always wonder how long have they been standing there mad at me when they could have just said, "excuse me," and I would have noticed them and moved out of their way...I don't get it. Why do people choose to be mad? It is a choice.

and now the phone

Tuesday night we were watching the Royals play and my husband was telling me about the free t-shirt fans got since it was T-shirt Tuesday at the "K". He asked me, "Do you know what you call your team's best pitcher?" He, of course, was looking to see if I knew the nickname for a team's strongest pitcher is the Ace... Will, who had been listening from the other room replied, before I could, "Zack Greinke?"

Last night we went to the game and did the requisite visit to the "Outfield Experience". I was pleasantly surprised by the quality and value provided out there. Tokens were $1 a piece but the most expensive attraction was only 2 tokens. We spent $3 and Will got to race Mike Aviles at baserunning and rode the Royals-inspired carousel. There are fountains for kids to play in and a playground area to play on which are free. I was expecting to feel nickel and dimed but we had a great time. I especially liked being able to walk around the fountains in the outfield. My whole life I have watched games on tv and in person, wishing I could walk around those fountains and last night I did!! I think it was very cool to be watching from a new perspective. We barely stayed in our seats.

This morning I told Will that in the afternoon we would either play outside or go to the pool with our neighbors/friends across the street. I then went upstairs to go to the bathroom. When I came downstairs he was dialing the phone in the kitchen. I said, "what are you doing?" Will replied, "calling Debbie again." I said, "you've already called her once?" He answered, "yes." At this point she must have answered because he then said, "One more thing, (don't really remember what he says here because I was processing the fact that he had already had a conversation with her)" I then caught up with the situation and got on the phone with my friend who told me he had called her and they talked about how we had gone to Summit Waves the day before and she told me he had had a really good time. This boy has not an ounce of shyness or hesitation in him. He started talking to a girl at least 2 or 3 years older than himself in line to get into Summit Waves. He also struck up a conversation with an older boy in line for the water slide. Oh, and he loves to freak out people by looking at name tags and calling workers, waitresses, cashiers, etc. by their names. I think he could be president someday. His family certainly has enough opinions to inspire political development!!

The government!

My friends didn't find the humor in this but I did and I am pretty sure Will's Grandma Dotty will get a kick out of it so I am telling the story. I am watching one of my neighbor's children a couple of days a week and the boys were playing one of their traditional faustian-themed games adapted over the years...cowboys and indians, cops and robbers, storm-troopers and battle droids, ben 10 and aliens...you get the idea. The game had just begun and the characters were still in development...Will said, "I'm the cops." Alex one-upped him and said, "I am SWAT!" Will then turned and lowered his voice almost to a whisper and said mysteriously, "Well, then I am the Government..." In the photo he is the character he calls Identity...

A close friend had a miscarriage this week and her family could use some prayers, if you are so inclined.

Update to the wildlife in the yard...I really need to get an SLR! The momma rabbit and the baby were out chillin in the front yard, munching on some grass, drinking from the fountain when the adolescent light gray squirrel came and was checking out the baby rabbit, wanting to play. That's all he wants to do is play. He even climbs the playset and then runs down the slide. If only he knew how to slide, he would love it! The momma took offense to this and the dance that ensued was hilarious. The rabbit would hop and bang her feet on the ground and the squirrel would turn around and ruffle his tail and try to make it look big and scary like a cobra...it was comical because it was like a lady chasing the hoodlums from the yard and then the hoodlums moon the her on the way out. Meanwhile the cardinal family was back at the playground picking through the rocks for leftover snacks.

cardinals and grandma

This morning I got up and my head is feeling marginally better but since I have been in this allergy/drug fog for the last 4 days I was wondering what in the world am I gonna write about today? Maybe I will have to post something in the afternoon and maybe something interesting might happen that I can talk about, or maybe something on the today show will grab my interest. I was stretching and opening the curtains, making coffee when I noticed the cardinal outside. For a couple of years I have been watching a male cardinal in our neighborhood. I don't think he lives in any of our trees, but it certainly comes for the feast of crackers, cookies and pb&j sandwiches that sprinkle my yard every evening. My Grandma Bette loved cardinals. She had paintings of them and needlepoint with them and I specifically remember an outdoor ceramic bell chime that she hung indoors and I always brushed my hand along it when I came and went down the hallway. Kelsey used to have me pick her up so she could make it chime. She loved it too. I was talking to my husband the other day because I was asking if it is the male or female that is all red...because lately I have seen another male, female, or baby...with red on top of head and red beak but brown feathers with little spots and it is smaller. So off to wikipedia I go because this morning the cardinal outside was the small one, I am almost certain now that it is a baby female! I wish I could get a good picture of it...it is soo cute and it was eating a worm and wiped its little face on the driveway. Thanks Grandma for the material. I looked it up and here it is the female northern cardinal...can't tell if it is young, it looks young! This is a stock photo from wikipedia because I don't have an SLR...maybe I should work on that!

Allergies and JBA

I have spent the last 3-4 days seeking comfort from an all out assault on my sinuses. I am not a regular allergy sufferer although both my son and my husband are severe sufferers. I remember times in my life having a flare up and feeling really miserable for a day or so but nothing like this. I seriously feel as though my head weighs 50% more than usual, like someone has taken a match to the inside of my sinuses. At the same time I think my eyes are hooked up to a saline drip and my chest feels like there is an elephant sitting on it now. Each day since Thursday evening a new symptom has reared its ugly head. This morning it is what I suspect is the beginning of a cold sore on my nose which is par for the course after going through as many tissues as I have, even if they are the ones soaked in vick's lotion. Despite my great discomfort we managed to get Kelsey dropped off at JBA and she is having a great time. Her first class is this morning and I'm certain she was excited to start. Will had a great time with his Grandma Dotty who took him to a lego exhibit at Union Station where they built a robot...his idea of nirvana! Chris was awsome yesterday taking Will to the pool and to McDonalds and allowing me to shower, stick my head in the sink with a towel over it and the hot water flowing. I drank lots of hot tea...green and mint. I also made chicken noodle soup. I think it will take me a week to get the watkins menthol rub smell off my chest and neck and I slept with a Ricola wedged in my cheek like a squirrel so as not to be coughing constantly. Today I am feeling marginally better and will do my best to be less whiney...forgive me this narcissistic post-it can't get any worse, right?

BPA and JET DRY

So I keep reading about bpa and how it leaches into our water bottles and food when it is exposed to extreme temperatures like in the microwave, our cars or the freezer and I am properly terrified that it will cause cancer or even an asthma attack. I use the little disposable "tupperware" but never reheat in it. I am careful with bottled water although who knows what it goes through before it hits our costco warehouse? I don't use a lot of bottled water, only when traveling, but my goal is to use none by the end of the summer. My friend Katy camps a lot and has 4 children and she fills up one of those orange coolers you see on ball fields and construction sites with water and ice and puts cups next to it (she even washes plastic QT cups and reuses them). She does it so her kids don't waste the expensive bottled water and dump half of it out on the ground, each other's head, the dog or whatever else happens to be begging for a good douse of water, but hers is the greenest method for providing water on a camping trip that I have yet to see. One thing that completely gives me the heebie-jeebies is putting those disposable things in the dishwasher and exposing them to extreme heat...and jet dry...I want to know more about jet dry...should I be using this? So I stopped refilling my jet dry and my glasses are still spotless but my plastic doesn't get dry...so here is my solution, some might consider it avant garde. At least Will does.

JBA

Kelsey is getting ready to embark on this wonderful world of the Joseph Baldwin Academy...it is a 3 week intensive study for 7-9th graders at Truman State University where they take a college course. This means kelsey will be responsible for laundry, making decisions, keeping track of money and an id and she is expected to perform to the utmost of her academic ability all at once. This of course has no effect on her, she is confident and relaxed and I am writing obsessively and going over silly laundry tips over and over. She is right now readying herself for a movie with friends as I go back over the budget and the list and IM with my aunt Lori who sent two of my cousins when they were kelsey's age. Also she will not be able to have her cell phone on her which is the only point of contention for her...they are to check them in with their preceptor then are only allowed to check it out during free time (only a couple hours of free time a day). This will be quite a change from having it attached semi-permanently to her hand. I am sure she will handle all of this with grace and ease and I will be at home fine one moment and panicked the next about whether she has enough clean underwear and that her shirts aren't hung up but in a pile on the floor. So I have the bedding in the washing machine...the amount of towels have been decided and I will go get her laundry detergent and dryer sheets later. Will has requested my help in making an origami swan...gonna have to get that figured out, maybe we will have a picture of one tomorrow!!

Roe Park Makeover

My son is currently watching the 5 or 6 (we can't count them they are moving so fast) squirrels playing in the front yard on the play equipment, up the tree, across the landscape rock, around and around the tree, playing hide and seek...2 moms and 3 or 4 youngsters. Our block is the best...we have wonderful, appropriate wildlife, terrific neighbors, tons of kids. I think of it as my village. Our village, I guess. Last Saturday we (7 families within a block) replaced parts and re stained the play set in my neighbor's backyard where we all congregate. It has affectionately been dubbed Roe Park in honor of the owners who haven't ever put up a fence or asked anyone to get off their property. It was a fantastic day to show community at work, just idyllic. The other day 3 of the boys were outside playing football while Will, my son, sat cross-legged in the middle of the "football field" reading a book about dinosaurs. They never fell on him or hit him with the ball but would occasionally pause and huddle over the book to see what Will was telling them about as they played...the athletes and the mathlete. Wish I had a picture...

the "up" quiz

We went to see "UP" this weekend at the movies and Will has been quizing me about details from the film. Yesterday we were sitting on the lounge chair at the pool and I was answering (to the best of my memory) questions Will posed. "Where did Mr. Frederickson and Russell go?" I answer, "Paradise Falls." Will approves with his signature "ding ding ding" (one finger up with glee at my correct response). "You are correct." Then he asks, "What do they find when they get to Paradise Falls?" I again answer, "Kevin." He says "ennn, wrong, Kevin and DOUG." I explained to him that he didn't prompt me to give him 2 answers. He pointed out that the way he asked the question there could have been "any number of answers and there were 2!" (as he held up 2 fingers). I have learned that although he is very intuitive and emotional his logical side is turning into his guide for life, I think. His father is gifted in this right/wrong/literal/logical manner, his mother on a softer note.