A Conversation With Tanner

Tanner came home from Nana and Papa's today. He spent a few days with them and his cousin, Adam. He came home to me tired and excited. On the way to baseball practice tonight, Tanner asked, "Mom, what is the most fun you ever had with Nana and Papa on their farm when you were growing up?"

If you are related to me, you are now laughing your head off. You've probably fallen off your chair. You're laughing so hard you're crying.

I thought and thought and thought. "Mom?" Tanner asked.

Me: "Um...Tanner, we didn't really have fun when I was growing up. All we did was work."
Tanner: "What? Papa never bought you donuts?"
Me: "Nope."
Tanner: "You never built a clubhouse?"
Me: "No."
Tanner: "Well, how come Papa does that for the grandkids?"
Me: "Because you're the grandkids and it's my job to teach you how to work, not Papa's."
Tanner: "Oh. Well, I like Papa better than your dad."

(Which doesn't make a lot of sense because they are the same person.)

The Golden Speedo

Last week was Employee Appreciation at Randy's work. I suppose it's appropriate to show employees at a juvenile correctional center a little bit of appreciation. Some of the activities included raffles, treats, and games. One of the highlights of the week was the dunk tank. Administrators and supervisors were encouraged to sign up for the dunk tank. Then employees would pay to take a shot at dunking their boss.

Randy signed up and landed the 11:20 time slot. I had class so I couldn't go, but his secretary was kind enough to take pictures for me. (Thank you, Chris!) UPDATE: Randy read my blog and pointed out to me that he didn't sign up for anything. He was volunteered when he didn't show up to a meeting. Hee hee.

Here's the first one.

Two.

Oh, the anticipation!

Three.

Four.

Five. Notice the fist. The mechanism was malfunctioning and even though the girl hit it with the ball, Randy wasn't dunking. She finally got frustrated and just ran up and hit it with her fist.

Six.

Seven.

Now it should be noted that not one single teacher actually threw a ball. The teachers were paying for their students to have a shot at the principal. As one girl put it: "What high school student wouldn't want to dunk their principal?"

At the end of the day, the money was tallied and the person who "earned" the most on the dunk tank won. Ladies and Gentlemen, may I present to you the winner of the 2010 Golden Speedo Award:

My good sport husband.

Productive

Just so you know I know.

(Thanks, Kelie.)

Donut Day

Sitting in class. Five students. 2 dozen donuts. World Cup Soccer.

Produtive day.

Lonely

Yesterday, Randy and I took Braxton to music camp and left Kilee and McKay with Nana and Papa. Tanner couldn't stay because he has all-star baseball practice (more on that in another post).

Today, Tanner had the run of the house and his mom's undivided attention.

Tonight, I went outside to get Tanner. He had been outside playing with the kitty. When I stepped out of the house, I noticed Tanner's shoulders shaking. He was still petting the kitty, but tears were dropping off his chin onto the kitty's fur. I went out and sat by him on the sidewalk. I put my arms around him and held him tight.

When he could finally talk again, he said, "I hate being lonely."

16 Years Later

This morning, I strapped on Randy's bike helmet. Then I took Randy's bike helmet off and adjusted the straps and strapped it back on. Then I very carefully mounted his very tall, very old ten-speed bike. (How many of you remember 10-speed bikes? I'm thinking this bike is coming up on its 30th birthday.) And you all know that as soon as you actually get on a bike you better start pedaling or you'll be eating rocks. I didn't really want to eat rocks for breakfast so I took off.

It was kind of scary to be riding a bike. I haven't ridden a bike for 16 years. And yes, I had to think about that. As I pedaled carefully along our country roads, I tried to remember the last time I rode a bicycle. It was, I believe, right around my 21st birthday.

I was dating this man named Karl who liked to ride his mountain bike extreme distances for fun. He decided that we should go mountain biking for a date. I'm really not the athletic type so it probably took him the entire summer to convince me to get on a bike. It was a Saturday and my sister (let's call her Bear) and I had just canned a bazillion quarts of peaches. (My mother was on her way out of town and had given us instructions and said, "There's only enough for about 7 quarts. It won't take very long.") 24 quarts and the entire day later, Karl picked me up in his teeny, tiny car. We drove off to a trail he knew. We hopped on bikes and away we went.

I don't remember much on the way up to the top of the trail except that I was eating a lot of Karl's dust. On the way back down, there seemed to be more traffic. It was a Saturday night! Didn't these people have anything better to do? Evidently, neither did I.

I remember the trail followed the hill and the hill was on one side and creek was on the other...except that the hill went up and the hill went down. The creek was at the bottom and the trail was somewhere in the middle. At one point, the trail got skinny and I was focusing so hard on not falling off the trail that I didn't see the rock in my path. Next thing I know, I'm tumbling through weeds and dirt and over rocks and there's a bike that's supposed to be part of me and now it's not. When I finally stopped rolling down the hill, I was happy to realize that nothing was broken, but there was blood. Eventually Karl realized I wasn't behind him anymore and he came back for me. I think I made him walk the bike the rest of the way because I refused to get back on. In fact, I think that was the end of Karl. We probably mutually decided that we weren't a good match. (It should be noted that he and Bear spent the rest of the evening laughing at me while I doctored my scraped-up self.)

That was the last time I rode a bike until today. This morning, I pedaled that old bike 5.5 miles. It actually felt pretty good. I was careful to stay in the middle of the rode (thank goodness I live in the country) so as to avoid gravel at the edges of the road. I'm happy to report that I did not crash and burn. Not only that, but now I am going to be buying myself a bike.

And my own helmet.

Why You Should Inoculate Your Children

Last Sunday night, Braxton showed me a few red spots on his chest. I told him we'd just watch them. Monday morning those few spots had multiplied and he said he wasn't feeling good. That's when I took a good long look at my son and said, "Braxton, you've got chicken pox."

By Tuesday, he was sick. He wasn't eating, had a raging fever, and took two naps. Then he went to bed at 7:30. Tuesday afternoon, I took these photos of his chest and back.

Wednesday he called me the second I was out of class and he was almost in tears. That told me he was sicker than sick. It takes a lot for Braxton to admit he's sick. I put him in a  baking soda bath and drugged him up with Benadryl.  Then I called his dad to come home and give him a blessing. Wednesday I snapped these pictures of chest and back.

You can never tell Braxton I posted his chicken pox on  my blog. He continued to break out on Thursday and was literally covered. He had them everywhere: ears, eyes, throat (yes, inside). When I say everywhere, I mean everywhere.

Why did he never get the chicken pox vaccine? Because it came out when Tanner was about two, making Braxton four or five. Tanner received the vaccine, and so did Kilee and McKay.  I never did take Braxton in for it. It never crossed my mind...until now. Interestingly enough, McKay actually had the chicken pox in March. He had about a dozen spots on  his chest and he didn't get sick at all. Poor Braxton hasn't left the house for five days. He's had more baths in the last three days than he's had since he turned five. He finally ate dinner tonight.

The moral of the story: GET YOUR KIDS VACCINATED!

We're Adding to Our Family!

But it's probably not what you're thinking.

Say hello to Black Kitty #1 and Black Kitty #2. They are the recent additions to our family and are here for the sole purpose of catching mice. I have seen one and that is one more than I care to see. However, Randy has seen (eliminated) about eight since the snow melted. They were fond of the now-dismantled sand box.

Hopefully, these little kittens will grow up to catch all the mice that wander too close to our house.

They are currently unnamed. Tanner favors Midnight and Playful. I think we should name them Betty or Sue or Shadrach and Abednego.  How about Thing 1 and Thing 2? 

I think I may lose the naming game.

Look in the Mirror!

Try to ignore the filthy bathroom and the unorganized closet. You can look at the cute new flip-flops if you'd like. But what I really want you to see is the sneaky kid in the mirror. I had no idea this picture existed until I was transferring the images to my computer. He's just too cute to reprimand.