One Weekday Morning

We are blessed to live where we typically have beautiful sunrises. I still maintain that the sunsets cannot compare to Nevada, but there really is something special about the sun coming up over the Tetons.

One morning I opened the blinds so we could watch for the school bus, and the sunrise was so beautiful that I made the kids come look.

 

Then I changed the settings on my camera and we got a different look for the same sunrise.

I zoomed in on the Tetons.

The Tetons are right in the middle of this photo.

What a beautiful start to the day.

Look Closely!

One day during Harvest Break, Kilee walked by the window and casually said, "There's a bluebird on the lawn."

I freaked out and grabbed the camera. Bluebirds are mountain birds and you don't commonly see them in subdivisions. In fact, I've only seen a bluebird once in my life. I was shocked that I could see six of them in our backyard. The pictures aren't great (I am not a photographer), but you can still see the little tiny bluebirds.

Football 2011

One of Tanner's baseball coaches begged and begged and begged Tanner to play football. Tanner turned him down for a long time. In fact, by the time he convinced Tanner to come to a practice, they had been practicing for two weeks. Randy and I kept telling Tanner he didn't have to play and he'd come home from a practice and say, "It was okay. I'll go back tomorrow."




Tanner is #25 wearing red socks.




Tanner is just to the right of #40.



Tanner after a game.

Tanner lining up against Sand Creek Middle School.



Tanner made a great tackle but then came out holding his wrist. His coach taped him up and the whole time I kept saying to Randy, "He better be able to still play the piano."

Before we knew it, he made it through the season. In the car on the way home after that last game, Tanner finally said, "That was fun. I think I'll play again next year."

Kilee and McKay Play Soccer

Sounds like the title of a book, don't you think? It could be one of those upside down and backwards books with a story starting from each end.

Here's McKay's story.

This is McKay. McKay is supposed to be playing soccer, but he is snatching handfuls of grass instead.

McKay is supposed to be playing soccer, but in his mind, he's got

"hay" for his horses.

This is McKay on the soccer field. Remember the hay?

This is McKay. He is stalking his prey. The players on the other team have no idea they are being watched by a mountain lion.

This is McKay who once was a mountain lion. Now he's horse galloping to the goal.

This is McKay the horse. He's playing soccer.

This is how McKay plays soccer. This is not how you are supposed to play soccer.

Now flip the book upside over and backwards and we'll read Kilee's story.

This is McKay's big sister, Kilee. She's the girl with the blond pony tail. Kilee plays soccer.

Kilee knows how to throw the soccer ball over her head towards her teammates. She knows that one of her teammates will pick up the ball and kick it towards the goal.

This is Kilee running to stop the ball. She's a defender and is defending her goal. She will kick the ball back down the field. Kilee will help her team by playing soccer and not pretending to be an animal.

The End.

A Much Smaller Rite of Passage

We're all about growing up around here.

One recent Saturday, instead of fixing the training wheels (again), Randy just took them off McKay's little bike and decided to teach him how to ride a bike.

Randy set out running behind McKay, but McKay had other ideas and about two seconds later, he was riding his bike. We hollered and cheered and he rode up the road and turned around and came back and rode around and around the driveway.

He's mastered riding up and down the road, and now, McKay thinks he's going to ride his bike to school. Even impractical goals are good.

A Rite of Passage

Braxton is standing over my shoulder and just said, "Mom, not cool. I don't want everything published for the world to read."

So I won't tell you that we spent quite a bit of time reading about the do's and don'ts of shaving. I won't tell you that we spent a lot of time laughing in the mirror while he held a razor in his hand. I won't tell you that we didn't tell his dad because his dad is pitching fits about his son having facial hair.

In short, I won't tell you about the rite of passage that my oldest son just took; you'll have to just figure it out. He's well on his way to becoming a man. I almost cried.

(Almost? says Braxton. Almost? I swear there was a river coming out of your eyes.)