Coconut, Anyone?

My poor dog, Khaki. While on spring break, she got to go on SO many walks. Spur of the moment kind of walks. Long walks that made her collapse into her water bowl. Short jaunts to check out the lake or little coffee shop down the street. Walking was so easy and dogs were so welcome at the beach. Back home, well, sorry Khaks. The backyard will just have to do.

One of our spontaneous walks was to a seafood place down the street. For years, Tom and I have passed it and wondered... was it a market or a tiny restaurant? Deciding I would find out, I grabbed the leash and yelled at Jack to get his bike. Jack and Khaki never need much of an excuse to explore. Jack would ride his bike way far ahead then come back. Khaki would saunter, then break suddenly to sniff. Saunter. Sniff. Saunter. Sniff. "Why does she stop so much?!", he says-- disgusted in a way only a pre-teen can be. "This is her way of getting news. She sniffs to find out who's new to the area. Who's sick. Who's looking for a girlfriend.", I say --pleased with my creative answer. "oh.", he says. Half moan, half eye roll, peddling off to see and to be seen.

This is the first year that Tom and I have noticed that Jack cares about how he looks. Usually, he wears only one t-shirt on vacation, even though I've packed many. Crying with the zeal of a newborn when he couldn't wear gym gear to a nice restaurant. This year, I notice him checking himself in my sunglasses, taking time to see if clothes actually "match" and developing quite the love affair with AXE shower gel. I yell at him, "Hey! Can you come hold Khaki while I run into this seafood place for a menu?!" He peddles back, glaring at me with all his pre-teeness. He drops his bike. I'm sure I heard a mutter. Ugh. "He's getting so big", I think to myself.

It takes me longer than I expect inside the seafood place. Turns out it's a fresh seafood market. I linger around to get the lay of the land. Study the process for ordering and buying. Take mental notes on any terminology/lingo that may be useful if I get enough nerve to actually buy something. Satisfied, I go back outside.

There's Khaki, loosely tied (dangling, really) to a pole. The bike still on its side in the parking lot... where's Jack? Oh, there he is. Scaling a palm tree like a primate. "Of course", I sigh. I guess I shouldn't worry too much about him growing up. He's still not so self-conscious that he doesn't see anything wrong with climbing a palm tree next to the highway and in front of a strip mall. I stand next to the palm tree and look at my son. Grinning from ear to ear, proud of his accomplishment. And, I'm jealous. Slyly, I think to myself, "I bet I could do it." For a second, I think about kicking off my shoes and giving it a whirl. Then I realize, I am a grown up. I had my chance to climb palm trees. I wouldn't have done it though. My 11 year old self would have cared what other people (correction, just the boys) would have thought. Now, I don't care but I'm too old. I'm certain I would injure something and my son would die of embarrassment. So, I decide to praise him for his achievement. Tell him he's awesome and ask him to show me his technique. He scales back down and patiently shows me how to hold your feet, just so. How to hold tight with your arms, pull your legs up to your arm pits. Grasp the trunk with your toes ("like hands, mom"). Reach up, grasp with your hands again to repeat the process. Amazing. Still, I think I'll leave the tree climbing to him for as long as he wants to do it.

Jack's Double Digits

Jack is now in the double digits.  Ten. Years. Old.  Where has it gone?  I can remember a friend coming to see me in the hospital after he was born.  As she was leaving, she said, "Nice to meet you little guy.  I'll see you at your wedding."  I laughed at the time.  But she was right.  You blink and they're big.  Feeling a bit nostalgic and teary, Tom and I reneged on our original plan of not having a birthday party this year.

Since Jack was a baby, he's always had a birthday party.  Kindergarten--bowling, First grade--rock climbing party,  Second grade--we took all the boys in his class and their Dads to a Vandy baseball game.  This year Tom and I thought we would get off easy and suggested a sleepover.  I thought, he's 10 he can invite 10 friends.  But, then we got into, "If I invite this guy, then I have to invite this one."  and "What about so and so? I have to invite so and so!!"  Tom and I just looked at each other and said, "Ya know what, just ask them all."  We've had movie nights at our house and invited the entire class.  So we thought, these were just the boys...how bad could it be?

Bad.  I'd like to say I have memories of the slumber party but really they're more like flashbacks.  I can't remember the order of events, just little movies in my head that go in slow motion.

This is how it began.  I had just arrived from dropping the girls at my mom's house.  Apparently, all the boys showed promptly at six and Tom had to manage without me for the first 30 minutes.  I walk into the backyard and Tom says, almost maniacally, "They've already spilled a half gallon of gasoline in the garage!"  And this is how it ended.  Tom says, "Do you think I can just pile up all this stuff on the driveway and when the parents come to get them, they can just rummage through to find their stuff?"

We found shirts in bushes, only one half to a pair of shoes, a sheet, tons of dirty socks and a jacket.  It was wild, wild, wild.  But, Jack had the time of his life.  He must have told me he missed his friends a dozen times. In hindsight, putting out bags of Skittles, Twizzlers, chips and cokes....probably not the brightest of ideas.

Next year, who knows, we may do it again.  Kinda like labor, the more removed from the pain, you begin to think it wasn't that bad.

What Jack is Thankful for...

Ah, Friday folders. They reveal so much about a child. This is the folder from school that proves what you can only suspect about your child. That they are learning something. I have given up asking, "What did you do in school today?" I just wait for the Friday folder and I can see for myself. This past Friday, I came upon an interesting little tidbit. A piece of artwork that was titled, "Things I am Thankful For.."

When Jack was four, he made a little hand-turkey place mat that said "I am thankful for NASA." Perfect. It was the ultimate snapshot of Jack's personality at four years of age. This year, at the age of nine, he is thankful for engineering (a picture of a skyscraper with construction workers), luxury liners (pictures of the Queen Mary 2, Titanic), Tacos (this was colored and everything), the Chinese language (complete with Chinese words) and, as if he had looked on someone else's paper then decided to add, my family (with only four very small stick people--so, he obviously left a sister off). It's so good to see he's maturing.

However, I'd say this is a pretty accurate snapshot of Jack. I'm glad he's still honest about who he is and what he likes. I would hate for him to draw a big picture of his family just because he thought that was what he should do. I know he likes to build things, wonders how super tall buildings don't fall down, apparently wants to eat more tacos, and wants to know why boats sink...and thankfully, he has included us (or at least some of us). Even if we are an afterthought.

One Step Forward, Two Steps Back

We are in full extra-curricular activities mode. Mainly with Jack, so that means dragging the other two along to practices. We decided to encourage swimming and soccer. Both of these sports seems to come naturally to him.

Not much strategy to swimming, get in the water and swim as fast as you can to the other side. The coach would tell the entire beginner group to go, except for Jack. Once the group would get half way to the other side, he would tell Jack to go and catch 'em. He was amazing, catching and passing the others. Coach said he should move to the intermediate group. Jack is so excited because he gets to wear "fins" now. (I mistakenly called them flippers and got reprimanded, so please use the correct terminology.) I hope he stays with it, he really is very good and still faster than most of the kids in the intermediates.

Soccer is another story. Jack is a bit of a showboat. He likes to kick the ball and wave to the crowd...no kidding. He thinks he's done his job and everyone else can duke it out to get it to the goal. You can see him out there, sportscasting in his head (his lips move) his play by play. At least he is staying on his field and not chasing all the balls. And, he loves it. He started off with one team. He was the tallest guy on the team, most of the other kids were 4 and 5 years old. I kinda questioned this but was told this was the philosophy of the league, mixing older with younger. Blah, blah, blah..something about "kids in Brazil don't discriminate on age, yadda, yadda, yadda". Yeah, this was great until Jack kicked a ball into a poor, unsuspecting 4 year old's face. Jack was yanked to the big kids group...STAT!! We like to call it a promotion. But, now we have to learn about the strategy of the sport..lord help us.

Crab Legs!

Okay, so I'm a believer in making the kids try new foods. Unfortunately, Jack is the only one I can bribe at the moment.



Tonight, I made King Crab Legs. I thought, this will be fun. Get to use the hands, very messy, lots of Mr. Krabs jokes.



At first, Jack was reluctant. Saying, "What smells like rotten corn in here?" Then he looked on the table and said, "Noooooo, waaaay! That's too gross!" I reminded him that very intelligent people are open to trying new things. (The opinion that he must not be as smart as I think he is hovering in the air). So, I show him the ropes. Cracking the shells, peeling the meat out, dipping in butter...slurping. He's intrigued. He gives it a go. He likes it, he likes it. Mr. Krabs jokes begin to fly.."Give me yur money..arh.arh.arh!" and "This might be Mr. Krabs' brother.", etc.



I ate 6 legs, he ate 5 and Tom, bless his soul, at 2.

What Tha..?!

Jack is home from his last day of school less than 30 minutes, and he destroys my closet. Apparently, he was looking for his Vandy baseball hat to go with his Vandy baseball uniform so he could "practice" his throw outside. He was under the impression it was on the top rack of our closet. Well, mister man just climbed right up to look for it. I hear a big crash and Jack saying, "Oh, no! Just kill me now." When I saw the wreckage, I had to put on my serious face (even though I was slightly impressed) and ask him how he did this. He claims, "it's an old closet anyway and it just fell down." Rrriiggghhtt.

I sent Tom a picture and he just said, "Save the dry cleaning." And he pointed out, there's only 87 days until school starts.

It's going to be a long, weird summer.

Jack Smells Summer

It's that time of year again. You know, the run around babbling nonsense totally don't care about anything but cartoons, Mom, Maahm, Maaaahhhhmmmm time of year. Jack is so wound up about school being finished that he can barely contain himself. It doesn't help that Tom keeps a running tally (20 school days), either. All I can think about is, "Do I have enough camps?" Most of all of Jack's sentences are fragments about random hockey facts shouted at me while I am in the middle a conversation (or at least I thought I was) about something else. Trying to get him to do homework is like a WWF smack-down. And personal hygiene...forget about it!

The smell of fertilizer on the grass, green leaves on the trees, the sound of lawnmowers early on Saturday, all the pool supply/cleaning vans racing around, street lights coming on later, warm weather...yeah, he knows. Summer is almost here. Lord, Give us strength.

Another Milestone Down.

Jack made his first communion with no noticeable blips, kinks or slips. Hallelujah!! He looked very handsome in his all white suit...they all did. Jack was smiling and "happy" the whole time. And when he went up for communion, I swear everyone decided to sit up SUPER straight because I couldn't see a thing! I thought the service was lovely and his group sang a song at the end that was just too sweet.

Now for the weirdest, coolest and undefinable event that happened at First Communion. After the Mass, I was waiting around while group pictures were being taken. I look over my shoulder and I see my Dad off to the side talking to someone. The look on his face was both shocked and happy. I thought, "Who would my Dad know at my church?" (My Dad is from out of town.) Upon closer inspection, I began thinking to myself, "Man, she looks familiar." Then I'm sure my eyes flew open in surprise when I realized it was my cousin Karen from California. After initial hugs and hellos were exchanged, Dad said, 'She didn't even know it was Jack's communion". What?! Apparently, Karen was in town for a former professors retirement party. The friend she was staying with asked if she wanted to come to church with her and she said "sure". She comes into the church and sees my Dad and tells her friend, "I think I see my Uncle." I was so shocked, excited and happy that I could hardly speak. I haven't seen Karen in almost 17 years! My Dad said if you could have asked him who would be the last person he would see there, he would have said, Karen. For her to be in town, and to come to my church (out of all the churches), on my son's (a child she has never met) First Communion ... defies all logic. WOW! I can not decide if this is Divine intervention, a karmic reaction or what? After she left, I regretted not asking her to join us for lunch. I would have gladly returned her to her friend's house afterwards. But I was just so shocked, all rational thought escaped me. So, Karen if you read this...Thank you for being curious enough to investigate if that man was your uncle. And thank you for making a special day, even more momentous!

Jack's Birthday

This week started with a bang! Jack had his pizza party at school on the 8th. As you can see he is quite ex-ci-TED!!! (He's the one in the back "falling" off the seat.) I just would like one non-goofy face picture please. However, I can remember going through a goofy-face phase myself. Tom, who sounds like he was a much better child than I, says he never made goofy faces. rriiiiggghhht(wink,wink). Later that night, we had a little family get together. So, in total, Jack's food intake for the day--toaster strudels for breakfast, popcorn for snack, pizza for lunch, milkshake after school, cheeseburgers for dinner and of course, cake and ice cream. And he's still a twig. Must be Tom's genes!