Kindness above all else

I went to the last award ceremony of the year for the boys' school, which happened to coincide with the last day of school. I was really hoping that Gabriel would make all A's for the last quarter so that he'd have done it all year. He did!  He received his quarterly certificate and then was called up for the all-year award. He was one of only three students in the entire school to receive this honor.   I was one proud mama!  The boy never complains about having to do homework and goes along with studying for tests several times.

A new award this year was for having no tardies all year. The only kid in pre-K or kindergarten to receive this prestigious award was my baby, Jojo.  But guess what?  He wasn't there. They had taken him back with the other kids in his class so he didn't get to go up on the stage to get his award. I was a little peeved by this because I think that once the kid gets a taste of the whole school giving them accolades, they want more.

The final award came up and I missed the explanation behind it. It was being awarded to one girl and one boy from each class. They announced Gabriel's name and I had to ask the mom next to me what it was for.  Her daughter Charlotte won the girl's award for his grade.  "For showing kindness and helpfulness to their fellow students all year long."  I was so surprised and proud I welled up.

Because it dawned on me that you can make good grades the whole time you're in school but that doesn't make you a nice person. Every day when they walk out the door I remind them to be kind and respectful to everyone. What a nice surprise to find out they might actually be listening to me!

The picture of Gabriel and Charlotte with their awards around their necks is a little sad. Charlotte should have received one of the No Tardies awards, but because of a mix up did not. In the pic she has obviously been crying. Gabriel is not smiling and is looking down, and I know the thing going through his head is "what did I just win an award for?"  But I explained it to him before he had to go back to his classroom and he seemed pretty proud. In our very small school I had parents of kids in
all different grades coming up to congratulate me afterwards. In the car on the way home I told him how proud his father and I were of the wonderful things he had accomplished this year. But that we were most proud of the kindness award.   That is everything.

There's a reason for this madness

Slowly but surely over the past year, I have just about over-volunteered myself. It started with the decision before the school year started last fall to "help out" with the cub scouts. But they are so starved for parents to help out that before I knew it I was taking the online test to become a Den  Leader. It was hard to find energy after working and homework and dinner on Monday nights, but I usually ended up having fun with the kids. (I didn't say "boys" because we have many older and younger sisters that come and join in the fun). It's a good thing I was available because we went from having 8-10 boys to having a minimum of 20 each week. Great for the health of our pack, but the scoutmaster could never have handled all those kids on his own each week.

Then I friended a mom acquaintance on Facebook whose daughter is in G's class. The family also attends our parish. She asked me and Gabriel to come help pull the old hymnals and replace with new ones in the pews one Saturday morning. I happened to be there when the Deacon's wife came in to ask her who was going to take over for the person in charge of Art and Environment, who had said she was ready to to step down. This ministry handles all the decorations for liturgical holidays all through the church. I thought that sounded right up my alley, and I had been wanting to volunteer I'm some fashion for quite some time.   So I spoke up and am now part of the team. My friend is now in charge, and has done an amazing job. It's been hard work but fun, and it's a great feeling to walk in and know you were a part of creating the beauty and meaning. I've learned so much about my faith and had fun getting to know my fellow parishioners. Now that we are in Ordinary Time ( no liturgical season) we will get a break until we start to plan for Advent next fall.

And in late March I decided to try out the Advisory Council for the boys school. They had openings for many seats, one of which was the Finance Committee Chair. The principal really wanted someone with Accounting and/or Finance experience. So I went to the April meeting and was voted in. I had no idea what to expect. I was thrown right into the fire because we have to reapply for accreditation with the Diocese next fall. Each committee had to come up with a strategy to improve the school in their department. I was able to come up with some things with help from my husband so I wouldn't feel like a total loser with nothing to offer. I may have really bitten off more than I can chew with this position. I have many tasks I will be working on this summer and beyond, even though I still don't really know what I'm doing. I will say that I have newfound respect for the principal, administration and teachers and can't believe how much effort, blood, sweat and tears go into running a school.

I got home from the May meeting and started writing down all I needed to do for all three volunteer efforts. I told my husband I might need to hire a personal assistant to keep it all straight. But I don't want to drop anything yet. I have felt a little depressed at times with my job, and the my lack of adding to the greater good. When I realized I didn't have it in me to teach, my spirit dropped to the lowest level it had in awhile. All of these things have changed that. Now I am making a difference in my kids' lives (and possibly many others) by helping out their pack, their school and our church. It is a fantastic feeling. And as long as my job remains part-time I think I can keep it all going.

It will come back to bite you

Many years ago, while going through a divorce and an identity crisis, I dated someone who was obsessed with Nascar. You know, those cars with ads plastered all over them, driving around in circles?  Deep down I really didn't like any of it. It was noise and air pollution all rolled into one big drunkfest. I went with him to the race at the Texas Motor Speedway, and then a few months later we even went to Vegas to see one there. Every weekend in between we would watch the races on TV.  I got to know all the drivers, their personalities and who sponsored their cars. I knew the cities of all the racetracks and how big or small each track is. I even picked a favorite just to be able to get into it more:  Terry Labonte, who was from Texas and drove the yellow M&M car. When I throw myself into something, I will learn about it to the point of obsession.

But that relationship fell apart, as most rebounding ones do. After the initial depression, I began to feel overjoyed that I didn't have to pretend to like something so much anymore.  I walked away and never looked back. I'd sometimes hear discussions about it but my brain would just shut down at the mere mention of it. It really taught me a lesson about knowing who you are, being honest about what you like and don't like, and that it's ok for people in a couple to like completely different things. I vowed I would never pretend to like something again.

My sister-in-law married a huge Nascar fan. So talk of upcoming races and results began to creep into family discussions at birthdays and holiday events.  Then they did the most horrible thing. They had the boys over a couple of times to spend the night.  Gabriel sat and watched the races with Michael. He became more curious and at the same time found a site on You Tube that both glorifies and  makes fun of Nascar. So every weekend we look up when and where the race is. He's made a master list to keep up with the drivers and their sponsors. Oh good grief.

Now, because Jojo worships the ground his brother walks on, he knows most of the drivers too.      Much of our dinner table talk revolves around the race. I'm being honest with them and stating that   it's just not one of my favorite sports. But I try to listen to Gabriel's excited chatter about where the race is, and sometimes even remember some facts about things that he is impressed by. I never thought any of it would come up ever again. But this is so different because it's my son. Who I love so much I will even subject myself to a forbidden subject if he seems to love it that much. And he  really does.  Time to learn those sponsors all over again.

First concert

My dad went with me and a friend to our first big arena concert when we were 14.  Journey, the Escape Tour. It was November 7th, 1981. Loverboy opened up. My memories of that night are fuzzy. I have a tendency to zone out at concerts probably because of the constant noise level being a little more than my brain can handle. Or possibly from the smoke from the funny cigarettes. But I know it was an exciting head rush to feel the energy of a big live show. The thing I remember most is my dad swearing to NEVER do that again. Until one of us could drive he would drop us off and pick us up. My parents idea of loud fast rock music was the Little River Band.

So about a month ago, I woke up to the fact that Rush was coming to Dallas. And that it would more than likely be for the last time. Our little drummer boy has been really improving with his current teacher. He practices every day for at least 30-45 minutes. He loves and listens to all kinds of music and we just recently introduced both boys to Rush when we bought their greatest hits CD. So Jav and I started pondering whether or not Gabriel should go see the greatest living rock drummer live and in person. At the ripe old age of 8 could he handle it or would it just be too much for him?  It seemed to us like a great moment that he might go back to for the rest of his life, the memory possibly inspiring him to create his own great music.

So we laid down some ground rules before we asked him whether or not he wanted to go:  he had to use part of his 1st communion money to help pay for the ticket, he had to wear earplugs to protect his young eardrums, and no matter how late they got home he had to go to school the next day. When we asked him what he thought he yelled "YES!"  They headed to the American Airlines Center last Monday night, 5/18/15.   Jav was surprised how many parents with kids were there. Mostly high school age but a few that were younger. Jav got him a t-shirt and in the pic he sent Gabriel looked ready to rock. The guys sitting next to them thought it was pretty cool such a young kid was there, and kept loaning him their binoculars to watch Neil Peart's solos. The band had produced these really funny cartoons for the intermission and to play during a couple of songs. And those three guys, who have produced so much incredible music for 40 years, completely rocked!

When Gabriel told me about it the next morning his face just lit up when he told me about the drum solos. Yes, I thought to myself, this was what I was hoping for. He made it through the school day just fine which impressed me beyond belief. He wore his shirt today while we were out and about and someone asked him if he'd gone to the show. He smiled really big and said, "yes," his eyes twinkling. Yes indeed. And I think his dad (and maybe his mom) will be taking him to many, many more.

More on Jojo's brain

I was talking to Jojo about how really big he got while he was in my tummy. He got a slightly horrified but mostly thoughtful look on his face. Then he said, "Mommy, did you eat me?"

Funny boy!

I don't wanna grow up!

I have conversations with my different selves all the time. No, I am not Sybil. I'm just a normal person with much goings on in my head. Here's how one went today:

My current self, who is trying to eat healthier:  "Eat the stems of your spinach.  They're the healthiest part. "
My 10-yr-old self:  " But I hate the stems. The leaves are heathy enough. "
Current:  "Just eat them!"
10-yr-old:  "You sure are grouchy and mean now that you're old. "
Current:  "You would never have gotten this far without me!"

I think having my kids as an old person has its goods and bads. One good is that you don't quite let go of your own kid side. Since we constantly watch kids' movies and read kids' books, the grownup stuff really does seem boring sometimes.

I was driving Jojo to t-ball practice and one of my favorite songs that reminds me of high school came on:  You Got Another Thing Coming by Judas Priest. Many of those high school favorites either drive me crazy now because I'm just finally burned out, or the lyrics make me cringe. But this one is still a keeper. And I just let loose. I sang at the top of my lungs. I beat the steering wheel for every drum riff. I BANGED MY HEAD!!!   Then I caught a glimpse of Joel's face in the rear view mirror. At first I was actually startled to see I had a kid. After all, I had returned to my 16-yr-old self. But his face was such a combination of amusement, slight fear and wonder that I soon returned to my Mom self. And told him it was ok, I just really liked that song.

I don't want to lose that part. It's easy to get bogged down by stress over money, or from worrying about some issue they are having, or the crazy busy schedules we try to keep, or from lack of proper sleep. It's easy to wake up feeling my age, or sometimes even older. But I find myself searching for a younger self a lot these days. I make myself get up and dance with them even though my old self is tired and just wants to watch. I drag myself out the door to walk Tucker, and try to say ok if they want to come along.  And it usually makes me feel more energetic, happier and yes, younger.

I started reading the third Harry Potter book to Gabriel this week. It's my favorite of all the books and I'm downright giddy about picking it up again. I realize I could just re-read it on my own, but it is so incredibly fun to hear and see his reactions, and share the story with him.   How lucky that I get to re-live so much of my life again but this time experiencing it through my kids' eyes.

Real and on this Earth

Joel is having an existential crisis these days.  Yes, I know he's 5, but the kid is deep.

He recently was told by Gabriel for the upteenth time that whatever movie they were watching wasn't real.  These declarations had fallen on either deaf or uncomprehending ears before about a couple of months ago.  For some reason it seems to have finally sunken in.

Now, every time he watches a movie on DVD or TV, this is how our conversation goes:
J:  "Mommy is this real?"
Me:  "What do you mean?"
J:  "Is this movie real?"
Me:  "Yes, it's a real movie."
J:  "No I mean are the people real?"
Me:  "Yes the people are real, but they are actors pretending.  They are acting out a story that someone wrote."
He seems to accept this, although it kind of makes him sad to find out things he thought are real are actually not.

If we happen to be watching something animated, it changes up a little:
J:  Mommy this isn't real is it?
Me:  "That's right, these aren't real people, they are drawings.  There are a bunch of drawings that get video taped to where it looks like the characters are moving."
I don't think he understand this at all so he doesn't comment further.

When we are listening to CD's he also is full of questions:
J:  Mommy is this a real person making this music?
Me:  Yes, but they aren't singing it right now.  It was recorded some time ago and put onto a CD.

Then every so often I get one of these questions:
J:  Mommy are they on this Earth?
Me:  I'm not exactly sure what you are asking, but yes, they are on this Earth.

These are conversations that never came up with Gabriel.  I know there must have been a time when we explained that movies and such aren't real, but I don't remember the conversation or how he reacted.  I do know that he didn't ask questions like this.  That I would remember.

It just proves to me that Joel is a) much more intelligent than people give him credit for, and b) he apparently is on another plane in the universe, one that I hope will translate into a career in quantum physics.

The Mystery of Faith

There was a time about 20 years ago when if you asked me how I felt about religion, I would have given you an earful about how hypocritical organized religion is.  I had been raised Methodist, but as I grew up and learned more about science and history, I began to believe that the Bible was just a compilation of stories passed down to teach morals and values.  I had learned about many other world religions and thought there were some nice ideas in some of them.  So although I was still a spiritual person, I couldn't seem to find a home for regular services in any religion and didn't really buy into what they seemed to be selling.

Fast forward 10 years.  I met the love of my life, who happened to be Catholic.  A cradle Catholic, no less!  I started attending Mass with him, and certain aspects of the faith touched me.  I realized how much I had missed the music, the messages, and the feeling I got walking out afterwards:  Like I was renewed and filled and could continue for another week.  When he proposed to me, I gave it serious thought, and knew relatively quickly that I wanted to become Catholic and marry in the church.  It just seemed like the right time, and I felt really comfortable with the people of the parish.  It was a drastic change of thinking from my earlier years, and I wonder now if I had been craving a spiritual home for years.  I went through the classes, and learned enough to get by.  But I can't say I was truly invested.  The first time I took communion was meaningful to me because it meant I had achieved my goal, Jav and I could be married in the church and if we were lucky enough to have kids, they could be baptized as Catholics.  

A few more years go by, and this time they included two things that deepened my faith more than anything else could:  my children.  Having two healthy children at my age made me a believer.  Not just of miracles, which I consider them to be, but also of the power of prayer.  Holding Gabriel in my arms in the middle of the night, I began a ritual of praying for my child.  For his continued health, happiness and safety.  That prayer expanded when I had Joel.  But I found myself saying other prayers, for loved ones who were traveling to come home safety, or for people in the world experiencing some tragedy.  Prayer became a part of my day.  Slowly, without realizing it, my faith began to grow.  

My kids attending Catholic school have also added to this strange equation.  As I question Gabriel to help him study for religion tests, I learn more from the Bible stories than I did growing up.  I understand how they relate to our particular faith, and things we do during Mass now make more sense.  There are still things that make me cringe sometimes.  One day on the way home from school Gabriel told me something that Sister Kay had said.  She is the wizened (and only remaining) nun who has taught at their school for twenty plus years.  I really like her - down to earth, practical, and cares DEEPLY about all the students in the school.  She is now just substitutes for classes containing kids of the kids she taught.  But this particular day she told the 2nd grade that she truly felt sorry for those not baptized in the church because they were going to burn up in "that bad place".  Since I have never quite believed in the concept of Heaven, I also don't buy the concept of Hell.  And I definitely do not think that our kind and loving God would not forgive people who hadn't quite figured out the religion thing and send them to burn for eternity.   I have kept my mouth shut about certain things I disagree with when Gabriel has shared with me, since he is young and learning.  I want him to eventually form his own opinions about things.  But this time I couldn't let it go.  I gently explained why I did not agree with Sister Kay on that point.  He didn't really understand but at least it got him thinking.

As I said, I am not totally sold on the idea of an afterlife yet.  I prefer to think that the "Heaven" we experience are the good things we get to feel as we live our lives.  The joy from giving to people you love, and to strangers.  The beauty of nature that sometimes make tears well up in my eyes.  The small quiet moments with my kids and husband that make me so profoundly happy I could burst.  The thankfulness I feel every time we get together with family and our blessings are so apparent.  And I feel the presence of loved ones who have died from time to time.  Whether this is really a spiritual presence, or some energy created by the star dust we are all created from, or just wishful thinking from my very human mind I have no idea.  But it is comforting nonetheless.  

As my knowledge of science grows, my faith has grown right along with it.  While watching the first episode of "Cosmos", Jav and I paused it and had a deep discussion.  How did one tiny planet like ours (and possibly more that we haven't discovered yet) have all the right things come together to sustain life as we know it?  It is so mind boggling to think about how insignificant we are, yet also how important.  Instead of feeling like we now understood how scientific theories and facts could explain the vastness of our universe, we both agreed that knowing makes us that much more certain there is a higher power who created it all.

I think social media has also helped fuel this strange fire.  When my friends ask for prayers, many people respond.  When I've asked for prayers, I have felt lifted up and comforted that even one person said a prayer on my (or my family member's) behalf, let alone 100 people.  When one of our high school friends recently had very serious health problems, one post to our Facebook alumni page caused prayer after prayer to go up for him, his doctors and nurses caring for him, and his family who were concerned about him.  "We are here for you when you need us, and so is God" was the message I took from reading all of them.  I have no idea if the knowledge that many people cared about him helped him mentally stay strong or not.  I know it would have helped me in that situation.  And he completely recovered within a week and thanked everyone for their thoughts.  Powerful stuff.  

My idea of religion now is a cafeteria plan.  I like the Hindu idea of reincarnation.  There are many Buddhist tenets that speak to me.  I still feel like the Methodist faith was and is the most open-minded Protesant faith I have come across.  I am currently a very liberal Catholic, something I thought was rather rare.  The God I believe in is inclusive and kind, gentle and forgiving.  The current Pope has given me hope that there may be many more like me than I thought.  There are many aspects of Catholism that are outdated and I shake my head and wonder when it will catch up to real life.  But I love the ritual, the music, the order, the history, the incense, the mystery.  I have been learning more about our liturgical year and have a deeper understanding about why we do things.  When my kids were baptized, having the entire congregation stand up and bless each of them MEANT something to me.  And then a few months ago, Joel had to go to the bathroom just before communion started.  We hurried as much as he will allow himself to be hurried, but got back just as they were finishing.  And a crazy thing happened.  I got really upset.  I felt true loss that I had not received that wafer.  And realized how deeply I have changed.

I pray daily, sometimes alone and sometimes with the boys before bedtime.  We pray for our family and friends, for people less fortunate than us, for nature and the environment, for peace on earth.  I look forward to Mass, for the quieting of my soul as I worship with others.  I am thankful my kids are growing up learning right from wrong, kindness to others and that they are never really alone.  I know it sounds hokey.  If my 27-year-old self could have seen into the future to my 47-year-old self, she would have thought, "Oh pu-lease!  You are either a nut or a fake."  But I'm neither.  I like the place I find myself in. It gives me strength and peace of mind I did not know existed.  And I don't care if I it's a mystery and I can't explain any of it.

The little things can make such a big difference.

We lost our parish priest, Father Paul, over the summer when he was promoted to bigger and better things.  I have written about the nature of his wonderful-ness, especially his handling of the Friday morning school Masses.  He included the kids all throughout by asking questions and calling on different kids to answer.  He thanked the class who was in charge that week and had all of us applaud to show our appreciation.  He thanked everyone involved in Mass, musicians, choir, hospitality ministers, and taught the kids about respect.  He talked often about being sorry for things and asking for forgiveness.  He praised teachers and encouraged the students to thank them.  He told funny jokes.  He stressed the importance of being thankful for all of our blessings. When you walked out of a Friday morning Mass, your heart would be full of all of those wonderful things, and of the joy the kids had from feeling important, included and appreciated.  That joy would carry you for the rest of the day, sometimes even into the weekend.

His replacement, Father Eric, had some BIG shoes to fill.  But we all reserved hope that since Father Paul hand picked his own replacement, it would be someone special.  Well, the jury is still out.  Many people in the church office positions decided to leave as soon as Father Paul announced he was leaving.  I have been told that this is a normal turn of events when a new priest comes in.  It is such a time of transition anyway that people decide to retire or step down.  But several left a month or so after Father Eric took over.  His demeanor behind the altar does not seem to me to be a welcoming or friendly one.  It almost seems intimidating, like he is daring anyone to challenge his way of doing things.  He dressed down the choir and pianist about a mistake that was made in front of the entire congregation, which didn't seem very professional.  Jav went to a Parent meeting for First Communion participants and heard from the meeting leader that "no, we can't do it this way...yes I know that's how we've always done it before... but Father Eric has his own way of doing things and that is the end of it. We've asked and asked and he is not budging."  Hmmmmmm.

So imagine our happiness when we found out that Father Paul was coming to host Masses all of last weekend.  And to top it off, Gabriel's class was leading the Friday morning Mass.  There was an excited buzz that spread around the church when the kids saw Father Paul before Mass even started.  And soon we all were enveloped in his loving ways again.  He included the kids by asking questions of them all throughout Mass.  He would call on at least 10 kids to answer each question.  He thanked the 2nd graders not once, but three times and wanted us to applaud their fine work.  I don't know specifically what that kind of appreciation does to a 2nd grader, but it must give them confidence on some level.   We went to Mass again Saturday and that time got to say hello and hug him afterwards.  I couldn't even talk.  Fighting back tears, I just said that we really missed him and it was so, so good to see him.  I think I may try to get his address so I can write occasionally.

But his visit got me thinking about what his actions, no matter how small, do for those (and my) kids.  And I wondered why Father Eric wouldn't want to have that same impact on them.  He reads his homilies very quickly.  If he does happen to ask a question, it is meant to be rhetorical and he doesn't expect or want the kids to answer.  He gives the same homily for the Friday school Mass that he gives to all the Masses, not adjusting to really reach the kids.  Unfortunately he has never been around when Father Paul officiated a school Mass, so I have been praying that the wonderfulness of the school and its students will work some magic on him.  Or that the good people of our church will win him over and he will finally begin to listen to his flock and hopefully be happy to be here.

But this theory works also with teachers, principals, scout leaders or any other leader that has an impact on your kid.  Small efforts can go a long way in helping kids get through things.   And those efforts may even change their lives.

Resolutions Blehsolutions

Happy New Year!!!  2014 was a great year.  When I look back I see so much fun and so many things to be thankful for.  I am a little wistful about letting it go.

So.  Let's get started on the new year.  I don't think these should be considered New Year Resolutions.  I am instead calling this list:

Things to Make Life Easier, Healthier, Richer and Overall Happier
(Okay, I realize that is waaaaaaaayyyyy too long of a title, but like everything else I write I have trouble editing myself.)

1.  Take more walks and do more Yoga
Before and a few times during the craziness of the holidays I was getting up early to do 30 minutes of yoga three days or so a week.  I was also trying to walk Tucker a minimum of three times a week.  I would like to raise those numbers to five days of yoga a week and five walks.  Strength training is something I'd like to do more of.  But I have various aches and pains that seem to pop up more often when I try, so I'm trying to add strength where I can in my yoga sessions.  Planks, planks and more planks!  Overall my fitness goals are not to lose weight but just to feel healthier, more flexible and strong.

2.  De-clutter my house.
If there is one thing that I think will improve my overall mental health this year, it is this.  I'm proud of the fact that I spend much less time cleaning and more time playing with my kids than ever before.  But a side effect of this has been piles of stuff in every corner of every room.  Some piles stay undisturbed, and some piles slowly grow taller and taller.  But they never get smaller or go away.  I don't touch them when I clean.  If anything I just toss more stuff on them in order to rush through the cleaning.  These piles have become a huge source of stress.  To deal with them, though, takes monumental work like reorganizing closets.  I have joined a De-Clutter Group on Facebook.  The goal is to take 15 minutes a day to put away clutter in a small area every day, until an entire room is done.  The first room we are tackling in January is the kitchen.  This method is much less daunting to me so I am going for it.

3.  Less technology
I just read a great tip on another blog to keep your smart phone in one place in the house, near the charger, instead of carrying it around.  That way your access is limited, and you only go use it if you really need to look up something.  The only problem with this is that we no longer have a home phone, so my cell is the only way people can contact me.  I may try something like checking it once an hour.  I have given serious thought to trying to live without Facebook, but I think I would lose some special things.  There are people out of town that I love keeping up with and in contact with this way.  I also follow several authors that inspire me daily with their musings, like Anne Lamott and Patricia Polacco.  There are animal and wildlife sites I follow that make my heart happy with their pictures or videos they post, like the Texas Nature Conservancy and the Humane Society of North Texas.  So to give it up completely would actually make my life less rich.  I just need to have more discipline in controlling my time spent there.

4.  More reading
This goes hand in hand with number 3.  I have a huge list of books I cannot wait to pick up and read, along with a monthly Book Club book.  I have a tendency to fall in bed, exhausted at the end of the day, and find myself scanning Facebook.  I have the intention every night of picking up my book afterwards, but I normally get too sleepy to do so.  So I need more discipline for me to NOT pick up that phone at night, and instead pick up my book.  Maybe I will be able to read more than four pages before falling asleep.  I also hope to pick up books more during the weekend, while enjoying a morning cup of coffee, or during a quiet moment after lunch.

5.  Say NO more often
I really messed up several times in the last few months by volunteering for things I really had no time for.  I became a Den Mother for Cub Scouts which is something I really wanted to do and have been enjoying.  But then I said I would help with Rechartering our pack.  This becaome a nightmare, having to try to answer questions that only the Scoutmaster really could answer, and nagging him for answers when I don't really know him well.  I finally had to say NO I will not help with this after all.  Sorry.  Then I felt guilty.  It would be better to not get myself in that position from the start.  On the last day of school before holiday break, I was asked to help out with each of the boys' Christmas parties.  I said no to both, and instead went to get my hair colored.  The guilt was there but not nearly as strong as it has been.  I will keep practicing until I have no guilt.

6.  Being a good mom
This is a constant that never goes away.  Both to boys and to pets.

7.  Being a good wife
This really needs work.  I have little energy or patience left by the time I spend time with Jav.  We talk about problems with the kids, money or anything else after kids go to bed.  Tempers can run high just because of sheer exhaustion.  I need to have more patience during these conversations.  I also need to find out more about his work day and let him vent more.  And we need to have more time with just each other.  Date nights out or movie nights in.

So that sums up my Things.  Here's to a wonderful 2015!




  

The best thing to ever happen to our pets

I can't believe I forgot my post about this.  When I first started posting about the Colorado trip, I teased a post about our pet sitters.  We ran into them at breakfast last Sunday morning and I realized I never did one.  I have to share the story of Mike and Eddie.

I had mentioned that our vet really let us down by letting me know three days before we left that he was concerned about Zoe's health if we left her with them.  I was in such a state at work that day I really don't even remember it well.  I texted my mom friend Allyssa who had lived in our neighborhood and had posted in Facebook about her awesome pet sitters several times.  She got me their numbers with a little more background info, restating that they are AWESOME and hoped we could use them.  I spoke with them and told them my plight, and they agreed to come over that night to get more info.

When I started to lay out all the things I do to make sure I remembered them all, on paper I was seemingly certifiable.  I feed Zoe in tiny amounts so she won't throw up.  Three times before work, once when I get home from work, and three times at least in the evenings.  Bones has to be fed in the garage so Zoe won't eat his food, which would mess up her thyroid.  Plus Zoe can be shy and doesn't like strangers to the point where she might hide.  I thought to myself, "These guys are not going to want to take on this craziness."  But guess what?  They did.  They were so cool with it.  In fact, the visit that night was just a formality to get all the details down and see where they eat, etc.  We had initially thought we'd still send Tucker to the vet, but decided at the last minute that he would stay home too - making the situation at home even more normal to the cats.

Mike is tall, lanky and easy going, and obviously the people person.  Eddie is short and shy, but notices everything.  He is very quiet until he gets to know you  a little better.  By the time they left our house I felt like I'd known them my whole life.  They have been a couple for much longer than me and Jav and have that great way of completing each others' sentences.   They live close by and have been pet sitting for 7 years.  Their client list has grown to over 100 in the last few years.  We instantly liked and felt like we could trust them.

They set up their schedule:  They'd come by three times a day, walking Tucker for one visit, turning porch lights on and off, even agreeing to change water for our birdbaths, and watering a few plants that would need it if it got really hot.  They even gave us tips on restaurants and places to check out in Estes Park!  It turned out they travel extensively when they are not taking care of other people's pets.  I called the next morning to cancel the vet reservations.  They were fine with it and sounded relieved.  I started thinking more positively about the trip, and wondered why we hadn't tried this sooner.  I guess we had always thought about the security risks of letting total strangers into your house, and I have a hard time trusting people with the care of my four-legged babies.  But Mike and Eddie were so likable, I had at least one friend I trusted that had used them and loved them, and we were really worried about what might happen to Zoe if we left her at the vet's.  That fact totally changed my perspective and opinion in a very short time.

I kept sending last minute texts the night before, and a few as we were pulling out Saturday morning, probably confirming their opinion of me as the craziest OCD pet owner they've ever had to deal with.  I was still concerned, and really didn't want to have to turn around and come back if Zoe refused to come out and eat for them.  The second day, as we were driving through Denver and passing Mile High Stadium, Mike texted that Zoe was eating for them and it looked like everything would be fine.  He didn't want me to worry.  I broke down and cried right there in the car I was so relieved and thankful to had found these guys.  We contacted them a couple of times during the trip, to make sure everything was going smoothly.  They always wanted to know where we were and what we were doing that day.  And always had good travel tips for us.

When we got home, there were surprises waiting for us everywhere.  Some of them weren't even discovered right away.  First off, we noticed everyone looked healthy and well-fed.  Then we spotted a picture of Bones (which we later found out Eddie had taken), that was on the fridge.  Then we saw a magazine cover of a Dog Fancy magazine that they had photoshopped Tucker into.  It was framed and set up next to their invoices for the trip.  Later that evening I spotted another new pic on the fridge:  a stunning black and white of one of our tiny hummingbirds sitting on the wire that crosses our yard.  It is one of my favorite pictures.  It turns out that Eddie and Tucker bonded and he got walked twice a day, minimum.  (He probably wasn't even that glad to see us after that kind of doting attention!)  About a week later, Jav had been working from home and I discovered that the towel rack and toilet paper holder in our guest bathroom was no longer loose and in need of a molly bolt in the wall.  I was thrilled that Jav had finally fixed it and ran to thank him.  He stared with a blank look and had no idea what I was talking about.  We both realized it at the same time:  Our awesome pet sitters had even fixed our bathroom hardware!

Then later in the summer, they proved themselves the ultimate givers of customer service, going above and beyond the norm in a huge way.  My Uncle Dave passed away and we needed to travel to Fredericksburg for the funeral.  I called Mike to see if they might be able to help us for two nights.  He said they were actually on vacation, but that they would help us.  I tried to change his mind, and felt so bad that we intruded into their much-needed break.  But he insisted.  When I went to get our key back after we returned, I took a dozen homemade blueberry muffins.  Eddie came out with a huge jar of homemade strawberry jam for me.  When we saw them Sunday, it was so great to catch up with them.  Eddie showed us the wildlife pictures he'd taken that week and said that almost every client they had in Mistletoe Heights had become pregnant in the last eight weeks.  The only holdout had a husband who'd had a vasectomy and we laughed about how awkward it was going to be if it happened to her too.  They're just the best.  We are in the early stages of planning another big summer trip which I'll talk about more later, but it's so nice to know Mike and Eddie will be there for our old, needy cats and our sweet dog while we're gone.

The holidays and why they rocked this year

I have had more fun this holiday season then in any year I can remember.  I pondered this from time to time.  Was it because my kids are the perfect ages for really getting into it?  They are, and that was the reason for many joyful moments, but that wasn't it.  Was it because I was super organized with all of my holiday to-do lists done and everything spaced out perfectly this year?  I think I really planned well, but nope, that wasn't the reason.

The reason was simple.  I haven't been sick.  For as long as I can remember, Thanksgiving and Christmas have been a time of year that I have had to "get through" instead of enjoy.  Because I have ALWAYS been stuffed up and coughing my lungs out with bronchitis.  I was usually taking strong antibiotics that messed up my stomach and meant I couldn't drink any alcohol.  And I had such little energy because of all of this that I'm not really sure how I have been getting it done year after year.  Pure adrenaline and a stubborn sensibility, I guess.  Last year between September and January I had three sinus infections, bronchitis and the flu.  

I switched to my current doctor, a ENT sinus specialist, last Spring.  After a couple of visits and an MRI, she determined I might be a candidate for balloon surgery.  She said the little ducts that are supposed to be draining under my eyes were not working right.  Of course I have wondered why countless doctors have not figured this out before.  She also wanted to clean out the areas just over each eyebrow and the bigger cavities under my eyes.  I have to say that the process itself was very, very unpleasant.  She had a team of four, and it felt like they all had prongs going up my sinuses even though I was numbed out.  The numbing stuff was the problem.  Your entire throat numbs out when it runs back down, and I couldn't swallow and felt like I was choking the whole time.  It was only supposed to take 20 minutes, but took around 45 because I kept having problems.  In fact it took so long that the numbing spray was starting to wear off once she got to the last cavity, but I just took the pain because I didn't want to have that choking sensation again.  Once I got back home I still had trouble with the choking sensation, but after an hour I finally felt like I might live.  Afterwards I was telling people to not even consider this surgery without being put totally under.  And I wondered why I put myself through something so horrible.  For two weeks when it got to be late in the day, every step I took I could feel in my head and jaw.

But then the side effects all wore off.  It was Halloween time, and still no sinus infection.  Thanksgiving quickly was approaching, and I kept waiting for the symptoms to start:  headache, scratchy throat, stuffed up head.  I had slight headaches and sore throats from time to time, but nothing lasted more than a day.  I started to feel downright giddy that it seemed I would make the whole holiday season without any trouble.  And I have.  I just recently have been having some worse symptoms, which I am not surprised by since I have not been getting enough sleep for the last three weeks.  My resistance is down, and I was a little lazy about doing my sinus rinse twice a day.  But now that Christmas is over I have time to get back on track and hope to fend off a full-blown infection of any kind.

One or both boys, and sometimes Jav, are also normally sick by now.  We have somehow dodged that bullet this year.  In a normal year, by the end of December we have probably visited a doctor at least 6 times (between all of us) and picked up at least 8 rounds of medicine.  I took Gabriel for his checkup in October.  That's all, other than my follow up with my ENT.  

I really can't be happier about the kids being healthier.  And I can't put into words what it's meant to find such a good doctor for me, to have her finally figure out and fix what's been wrong, and to have my quality of life back.  

Colorado Day 6 - Epic horseback ride!

Thursday morning we had planned all along to go horseback riding.  There were some hiccups in the planning throughout the week.  We had assumed Joel, and possibly Gabriel and Macy, could ride ponies.  WRONG!  50 pound limit for ponies.  I was pretty concerned about both boys, but especially Jojo, trying to ride full size horses.  It just seemed too dangerous for a 4-year-old.  We called them several times and finally worked out that one of the guides would lead Joel's horse the entire ride.  

I had in my mind that the three youngest might bow out at the last minute when discovering how far off the ground you are when you get on a large horse.  I had also decided that I wouldn't mind sitting out the ride and waiting with whoever might back out.  I have been on a couple of horseback rides, and though they were fun, it wasn't something that I just couldn't wait to do again.  

But as they say in the West, there was a changin' wind blowin' down the mountain.  Or something prophetic and poetic like that.  

We found the place and walked up to the office to register and sign all the legal paperwork.  These are the ponies that kids under 50 pounds are allowed to ride.  They look so cute.  But once you spend 20 minutes watching them you realize that they are MEAN AS SNAKES.  Actually, I think that's an insult to snakes.  They kept nipping each other and trying to kick each other.  The black and white one nearest the guide in red was the worst.  I found myself a tiny bit less worried about Joel riding a full-sized horse.  

They gathered us together and wanted to know how many of us had ridden before, and if any of us considered ourselves "experienced".  They picked out the fresh horses for us.  I know it's silly, but we want to remember the names of everyone's horse, so bear with me:

Scout was my horse.  He was in a big hurry to get the ride over with and kept bumping into Cade's horse in front of him.  Cade's horse kept kicking him which only made him want to go faster.

My mom had raised her hand when they asked for more experienced riders, which left me a little surprised.  They gave her Jag.

My dad had Captain.  Not the upright creepy Ranger mascot.  

April had Sarge.  Philip had Hondo, who was a beautiful and really tall horse.  Cade had Virgil, or He Who Likes to Kick.  Alot.  

Gabriel had Socks (or Sox?   We should've asked him how he spelled it).  Macy had Mr. Wilson and Jojo had Barron.  And Jav, who I forgot about when I first posted this (love you honey), had Golden Granite.  How could I have forgotten a great name like Golden Granite???

They saddled us and I was just waiting for someone to yell that they wanted down, or that it was too scary.  Macy was very nervous but one of the guides agreed to lead her horse, just like one was leading Joel's.  I was a little shocked to see how calm my boys were.  As you can see in the picture, they both looked to me like they do this all the time.  They were ready for adventure big time.  So it turned out that I didn't have to stay behind.  I went through a little wave of panic, and realized I was HOPING one of the kids would want to stay behind.  Then I told myself, once again, how long will it be before I'm back here, riding a horse in the mountains?  If ever?  I listened very carefully to our guides' instructions.

And all of a sudden, something amazing happened.  I relaxed.  I was so comfortable up there, more than I'd ever been on a horse.  I leaned forward in the saddle when we started going up, and kept my feet relaxed and long in the stirrups.  It felt so natural to be up there.  Luckily they had placed me in front of Joel because I think I would have been really concerned about him.  I could see Gabriel, though, with his Ray Bolger scarecrow way of moving loosey goosey all over the place.  I finally realized he wasn't holding onto the saddle horn, and had to show him where it was.  It was a beautiful ride up, but it never occurred to me that we would have to head back down those steep hills after awhile.  Even when, after a break to make sure we were all still sittin' pretty, one of the guides' horses tried to roll over with her on top (she jumped out of the way just in time), I never got nervous at all.  I actually felt like I was one with my horse, no matter how cornball that sounds.

The way down was really tricky.  We had all of these "steps" down that the horses had to navigate.  The steps were an average of a foot wide.  That causes a huge dip, but I quickly got the hang of leaning back and holding on with one hand to the saddle horn and the other on the back of the saddle, just like our guides were doing.  It.  Was.  So.  Fun.  It was like an amusement park ride.  Except for worrying that one of the kids would fall off on one of those dips and hit their head on a rock.  And except for everytime I saw my mom, she looked like she was leaning sideways and had a panicked look on her face.

When she was told that we still had an hour to go, she said she couldn't go any further and felt really dizzy.  My dad helped her off the horse and she realized she was having trouble moving her hands.  It turns out she was dehydrated.  Not only did we not know that riding in that elevation increases your water needs, but it was a hot day (temperature was 88 while we were riding).  Stupidly, none of us brought water, being concerned about where we would hold it while trying to hold the reins and saddle horn.  The guides had extra, thank goodness.  Mom decided she couldn't get back on her horse.  She was just too shaky.  They didn't have a way to get people quickly down the mountain in an emergency, which we all thought was crazy.  (Maybe they do now that all of this happened).  But the problem was that our two remaining guides had to deal with two extra horses.

The guide who had been leading Macy decided to let her be on her own and lead one down.  This did not go over well with poor Macy, who had I think had been tolerating everything as long as the guide was in control.  There were some near meltdowns, lots of tears, pep talks from all of us that she could do it, but nothing was working.  Finally the guide had to come to the front where Macy was and just kept talking to her all the way back down.  When Macy would start freaking out again, she would start singing "Let It Go" from Frozen.  Once my brother started singing it in a really high girly voice to make Macy laugh.  We ALL did!   The other loose horse posed more of a problem.  The other guide (the one leading Joel and pictured below talking with Cade), said to just let it go off and graze and she would ride back up after we were back down and get it.  She was SIXTEEN years old, and told us she had been riding since she was three.   Her horsemanship skills were truly amazing.

Groups kept passing us, because when we stopped for that long period of time, scrambling around trying to figure out what to do, we got really behind.  There were several kids riding that had on helmets.  Oops.  April and I agreed we would not be winning any Parent of the Year Awards this year.  And even though I was truly worried about Mom, I still loved being up on that horse so much that I was already wondering how to go about signing up for a ride after we got back home.

We got back and I was relieved to get all four kids back on the ground.  Then came the tortuous hour-long wait for my parents.  We chatted with the girl who was both a guide and a photographer, taking a shot of everyone heading out on the trail,  She was super nice, but joked that she assumed everyone from Texas knew how to ride a horse.  She also told us that there were two rides we could have taken.  The other side of the ranch had normal, flat trail rides.  We just happened to pick the climbing and descending trail.  It was a huge relief when we finally saw three little dots that got bigger and bigger.  They had zig-zagged down the entire mountain.  Joel, who I assumed wasn't really paying attention to what was going on, ran and gave my mom a HUGE hug, letting me know that I underestimated his capacity for understanding and empathy yet again.

Mom was still shaky, but felt better after they got back home, had some food and more water, and got to rest for awhile.  We were all exhausted and enjoyed our take out while rehashing tales from trail earlier in the day.  We saw beautiful mountains, with snow still capping them.  We saw the Stanley Hotel, infamous for inspiring Stephen King to write, "The Shining" after staying there and getting really drunk in the bar.  We bonded as a family while smelling pine trees and fresh clean air.  We truly learned how to not just ride but stay on a big pack horse while walking up and down steep paths.  We were so thankful Mom was ok, and impressed with our three smallish cowboys and one small cowgirl.

I have never been so proud of all of them as I was that day.  Brave, fun-loving, up-for-the-challenge kids!!!!

P.S.  My brother actually took pics during the ride that are fantastic.  I need to have him send them to me and when he does I'll add them to this post.

Karate Kid

Jojo started karate classes two times a week back in mid-August, the same week the boys started school.  We knew G had tons going on outside of school so we thought it would be good for Joel to have an afterschool activity, at least until Spring baseball starts up next March.  We knew that a karate school existed in Arlington nearby where the boys have swimming lessons in the summers.  We visited one Saturday, and the couple who run the place answered our questions and let Joel take the 2nd half of class.  They seemed very nice and well organized, and we were impressed by the kids we saw that day.  We paid for a month with no contract, then decided to sign him up for a six-month contract.  And I am rueing the day for that decision.

Maybe they are all cash-swallowing piranhas.  I had been thinking it would only be one class a week.  They advised that most kids signed up for three-times-per-week classes.  Two would still be ok, but once a week did not allow for the student to remember things and therefore they wouldn't really advance.  The monthly fee seemed high, but since we didn't shop around maybe it was competitive.  When it came time for Joel's first promotion test to the next level belt, there was a fee for that.  Then everyone started talking about the next Tournament.  Which of course means another fee when you sign up your kid.  This school supposedly puts on really good tournaments, according to many of the parents.  Other schools from as far away as Houston come to participate in them.  But the parents are needed to be scorekeepers for the matches.  After we'd been there a month, we were expected to stay late after class and learn how to keep score in a sparring contest.   We weren't asked, they just made it hard for you to leave without looking like a sad, uninvolved parent.

So all other parents now think I am a sad, uninvolved parent.  I did NOT sign on for all the extra stuff they are throwing at us, I would come home and gripe to Jav.  They have had a Karate School swim day, picnic and this week a Halloween party.  Why can't I just take my kid, once a week, for a class?  Is it so wrong to want that?

Finally, after realizing that Jav and I were having none of the scorekeeping training, the wife gave up and asked if we would just like to watch since it was our first tournament.  Joel still had to prepare just like the other kids as if he was participating.  I don't like the idea of them sparring at that age.  And the worse thing that has happened, that made my mommy hair on the back of my neck stand up, was the day they were paired off to spar so the parents could practice keeping score.  Shihan (master) Jorge pretended to be the judge making the hand signals.  Joel and the new student, Luke, went last.  They had no preparation whatsoever and didn't know what to do.  Considering this I thought they both did really well.  But all the older boys, and even some younger ones from their class, started laughing at them.  Shihan never noticed because he was so wrapped up in training the parents.  I was livid.  It took all of my willpower to not stand up and tell off the boys, tell the Master what I thought of him and his wife, grab Joel and head out the door for good.

Jav calmed me down, something he's gotten very used to doing in the past 10 years.  Then the next session the wife pulled me aside to ask why we hadn't signed Joel up for the tournament yet.  I told her again that Jav was just going to bring him to watch this time, and she asked, "But has Joel said he wants to be in it?"  I told her that Joel doesn't really comprehend what's going on, and doesn't know what a tournament is.  Then she laid the guilt trip down even harder, "But all of them will be getting a trophy for participating, and Joel is not going to get one."  Ugh.  First of all, I have such issues with "everyone gets a trophy" mentality.  And secondly, can you believe the pushiness?

But all bitching aside, Joel loves it.  And I think it's been good for his confidence and balance.  One of his classmates from school, just by chance, is in his karate class, and they are two peas in a pod now.  And I must admit to myself, that aren't they just doing what the cub scouts have been trying to do - get the parents involved so the kids keep coming?  Even so, I don't like their tactics of trying to shame parents into helping.  We wil be shopping around for a new place for Jojo to take after baseball seasons's over,

Shopping: It's worse than the dentist

I'm taking a break from Colorado posting.  We lost our internet connection after a bad storm we had three weeks ago and I have not been able to use anything but my phone to connect.  I have missed posting in here!  I've taken to jotting down ideas for posts on little sticky notes at work.  We'll see how many actually turn into reality.  I have had alot on my mind lately.

Because there will be some serious ones coming, I'm starting out with a bit of fluff.  I want to talk about shopping.  And how my attitude towards it has changed in the last 30 years.

I used to consider myself a stylish person, as is my mother and as was her mother before her.  The only trouble was, I could blow a huge wad of money on clothes in a very short amount of time.  This continued all through my 20's and into my 30's.  But sometime along in there came some responsibility.  I didn't want to have credit card debt for years to come.  I knew I would have to get a handle on these binge shopping trips.  So my trips to the mall became fewer, and I would go only when I really needed something, like a new pair of jeans.

Then came marriage, owning our first home, and a tighter budget.  Then came the things that foever ruined me from wanting to go shopping like before.  CHILDREN.  (Sinister Dah Duh Dum!!!!! in the background).  When you first have them you are so overwhelmed that you can't even think about clothes and don't give a crap what you look like.  Then you realize you must face people in public from time to time, and your body is completely misshapen and doesn't fit into ANYTHING in your entire closet.  So you are forced to go shopping.  But it's impossible to focus if you have a kid with you, even an infant.  Since you have no idea what size you wear anymore, you must actually go through the trouble of trying things on, sometimes multiple times.  When you have 15 minutes while the baby is asleep to do this, it's not surprising that you leave with one top that doesn't really seem to fit like it did in the store when you get home.  So you start buying things here and there online, daring the Shopping Gods to send you something that doesn't fit.  Which they always take you up on and you lose.

I think I took Gabriel with me to the mall approximately five times in a stroller.  I am so clutzy anyway, I would invariably run into clothes racks, sweater displays and fellow shoppers as I stumbled through the aisles.  When Joel came I can honestly say that I took him to the mall once.  I hated those stroller memories so much that I just carried him through the store.  Yeah, that was a good idea.  You can't sift through the clothes on a rack while lugging a 20 pound 6-month-old on your hip.

Then there is the money, or lack thereof.  I try to ask for giftcards for birthday and Christmas gifts.  My mom tells me when things are on sale.  And God bless her, she is really the person who has kept me in anything remotely stylish since I've had children.  She hands down things that she doesn't wear that much, and she takes me shopping when I'm really desperate.  I had a few successful trips with my wonderfully sophisticated and stylish mom.  But it was on one of those trips that I realized something.

I HATE the mall now.  Despise it.  It taunts me because nothing seems to fit right.  It confuses me because I have no idea what is fashionable anymore.  It laughs at me glancing at endless racks and racks of clothes that I have no idea how to put together.  It frustrates me because I need so many things, and I can't figure out what to look for first.  It used to be my friend.  But no more.  We are now sworn enemies.

Internet shopping has become a somewhat better friend.  One that occaisionally still lets me down with fit, but I'm learning which retailers sell things that seem to fit me and which ones don't.  If I continue to have my way, the only mall trips we will make in the future are the twice a year visits to Striderite for the boys' shoes.  As long as we are in and out in an hour, I'm ok.  On these trips it's hilarious to watch their faces as we explore unknown territory for them.  "ALOT of people come to the mall, right Mommy?"   "Why does everyone need so much stuff?"  "That's a Food Court?  Cool!!!!"  They walk around with their mouths hanging open like hillbillies in the Big City for the first time.

Maybe one day I'll tell them how years ago their mom could walk the best stores, spot the hippest items and be headed back to the car loaded down with cute outfits in around an hour.

Colorado Day 5 - Trail Ridge Road and family games

Wednesday morning we drove the Trail Ridge Road in the Rocky Mountain National Park.  It is the highest paved road in the United States.  And it takes your breath away.  Everywhere you look you are surrounded by gorgeous views.  Sometimes it is a lush, green valley that seems to go on forever.  Sometimes it is majestic, snow-covered peaks with thin clouds whirling around them.  Sometimes it is a sunny hillside covered by an elk herd.  

This was the first scenic overlook on the drive.  I love this picture, I just wish Jav were in it too.  The colors are so bright and everyone looks so happy - because we were!  Except maybe Macy, who is confidently smiling here but was in actuality pretty nervous because of the precipitous dropoffs on the drive.

These may be my two favorite non-people pictures from the trip.  I was riding with my parents, while everyone else was in my brother's car.  I got so excited that the elk looked like they might cross the street in front of our car that I forgot I had my camera on zoom when they finally crossed over.  I LOVE the one of just his head.  But I think I equally love the one of his big 'ole elk butt.  So funny still, every time we look at it. 

As soon as we reached the highest point of the drive, it began to snow.  This was the record year for snowfall, so I took this pic to show how thick it was on the side of the road.  There is a small museum and a gift shop/restaurant.  There is also a huge set of stairs leading up to an even higher overlook that just the four of us decided to try.  Philip, Macy and Cade started out but Cade's leg was still bothering him and Macy didn't need to have her arm twisted to turn around and head back.  I almost decided to also, because the wind was suddenly blowing ice cold snow in my ear, and my blue jean jacket was NOT enough coat for the elements up there.  But I had to ask myself, "When will we be back to do this again, and will I be too old to try this at that time?"  I prevailed.  And I'm SO glad I did, because it was special up there with our boys.  I will never forget it.  

The clouds and the weather were something I could have watched up there all day, if I'd had warmer clothes on!  It didn't stay the same for longer than about 4 minutes.  It snowed about three times just during the short time we were up there.  Just before heading back down, Some college-age boys were gathering for a picture, and they took their shirts off.  Silly college boys.  But we all laughed.  

I love this picture of me and my boys making our way back down.  The plant-junkie in me was glad to see they had signs to tell us which flowers were tough enough to thrive up that high.

The same elk heard we saw on the way up was on the move when we drove back down.  Look at the babies!  

We did our usual lunch then naps after we got back home.  Then we started planning our second big home dinner for the evening.  Grilled chicken, mashed potatoes, and broccoli.  While the food was cooking I made up a game of charades for the kids.  They loved it!  I helped Joel when it was his turn.  I've promised them we can play it again some time.

After our excellent dinner the grownups played Password.  Remember the show from the 70's?  Allen Ludden was the host, who I believe was married to Betty White.  She was always one of the celebs pairing up with a regular person on the show.  The person looks at the word clue, and is supposed to say one word to get his or her partner to guess it.  If they don't it goes to the next pair.  We always end up in hysterics when we play with my parents, and this time Philip and April added to the hysteria!  It was crazy fun, and all of our stomachs hurt from laughing long after the game ended.  

I sadly didn't think to take pictures while we were having our night of family game playing.  But I did go out and take some pictures of the Fall River and our cabin at dusk.  What a perfect day.

Colorado -Day 4 - going our separate ways

We split up Tuesday morning.  Poppy, Uncle Philip and all the kids headed to the Rocky Mountain National Park.  They wanted to hike around Bear Lake.  It was a beautiful visit, as you can see.

There was still a bunch of snow on the ground!

Mamaw, Aunt April and I "went to town", as my grandmother would have said.  We walked and shopped around downtown Estes Park.  It is a great downtown area, with lots of cute shops and restaurants.  But everything is overpriced, which is typical of a tourist town.  We did find one really cool store where they had music memoribilia.  I was able to finally replace Gabriel's Beatles toothbrush mug that he broke last year with a new Yellow Submarine one.  And I bought a new pencil drawing of the Fab Four.  I love our Beatles bathroom!

This is the only picture I have from our downtown visit.  The Fall River winds around right through downtown, so that rushing water sound is never very far away.  We had lunch in a brand new sandwich shop.  It was a fun day.

After a rest time in the afternoon, we hiked up "our" mountain again.  I love how the weather changes so quickly in the mountains.  The light is never the same five minutes after you look at a view.  

Show me your muscles!

Later in the early evening, we decided to walk along the river for awhile.  But Cade's leg was still hurting him so we headed back.  The kids always flocked to the playground that was on the grounds of our cabins.  They even had a shuffleboard court!   We ordered dinner and the boys went to pick it up.  We were all really tired from all of our sightseeing.  

I fell in love with the tree below.  A gigantic blue spruce in the middle of the grounds that was breathtaking.

I thought I'd throw in a couple of Joel-isms that we picked up on during this trip.  We splurged on groceries and bought a little more junk food than we normally would, so one of his favorite things to shout out was, "I love burritos!!!" which meant Doritos.  He figured out the weird animal we showed him was an "underdillo".  And one time in the car he couldn't get out when we arrived at our destination because his foot was "sprinkling"  (had fallen asleep). Love that kid and the way his brain works!