There's a First Time for Everything...

...And Saturday was Nicco's first time bowling. It was also his first visit to Hooters. You see, the bowling alley is attached to Hooters. It is unclear from the front where the bowling alley entrance is located. Based on the sign and arrow, it appears that you have to go through Hooters to get to the bowling alley. So I took my little wide-eyed boy, innocently and sweetly carrying his colorfully wrapped birthday present, into Hooters. We asked how to get to the bowling alley. The gals smiled and pointed the way. Nicco smiled back and said nothing. It was amusing. I barely suppressed my giggles. And my shame.

It was a challenge, once inside, to find bowling balls light enough for small children to roll, but heavy enough to do the job. Once that was accomplished, Nicco said, "That ball is heavier than I expected!"

 He got the spare on that shot up there. He was really excited.

 Here, he's encouraging the ball down the lane. Sometimes, it almost didn't make it.

(I have videos, but google hates me.) 

His score after the first game. I think he's better than me! Let's just say it was a good thing they used the bumpers.

After bowling, the party moved to the party room for gifts, pizza, and cake. Then the kids were set loose in the arcade. Nicco played the same game 20 times in a row. It only cost one token to play and he got 20 tickets each time. Enough to "win" a cool swirly straw water bottle.

Nicco had a blast, so that's a winner. Unless his having fun means we have to come back...hmmm. Maybe it was NOT a successful day after all!

 

Firebirds, the Conclusion

The Crazy Firebirds

Nicco finished his first ever soccer experience last weekend. It was quite an adventure. For me.

It all started when my friend invited me to invite Nicco to play on a team with her boy. She told me the registration deadline and of course I procrastinated. It turned out I was a day late. They put me on a waiting list. They had to match up all the kids and coaches and specific requests then see if they had room for Nicco. A few days went by with no word and I was not optimistic. I apologized to my friend and told her I wasn't sure we would get on a team. She saw the glass half full and was sure that they would find a spot for Nicco. And she was right. Apparently, they really had to scramble, beg, and maybe even bribe people to coach these little guys. We did get a coach and enough kids to make a team and Nicco loved it in spite of his full intention to hate it.

Their first game was a 1-1 tie. The kid who scored our goal did not return to our team. I don't know why. Maybe because he was one of two third graders on an otherwise all first grade team? Our bad news bears kept at it. They practiced, they ran, they drilled, they laughed and smiled and had fun breathing air and moving their bodies and getting vitamin D in the sunshine. And they just kept on losing. Not bad though. Their worst loss was 3-0.

I really enjoyed sitting on the side of the hill with my friend and my husband chatting and laughing and giggling at the antics of the kids on the field below. In our conversations it came out that I had coached some middle school teams back in my teaching days. I wanted to keep it a secret because I wanted to watch, not coach, my kid. But it came out.

A few weeks into the season, I heard a horrible news blip on the radio. There was a fatal hit and run accident. Our kids' coach was involved. He would not be returning. One of the moms called me to see if I would be willing to fill in, seeing as how I had some experience and all. So I did.

The first half of the season the kids worked on shooting, passing, and trapping. The second half of the season, we spent more time on positions and spacing. Those little guys were running themselves half to death chasing the ball when they really didn't need to. In the first game I coached I made sure that all the kids played in pretty much whatever position they wanted to. Then I started getting a sense of where they played best and positioned them accordingly. And wouldn't you know, they started playing a lot better.

Their last game day was a double header. Or, a two-headed game, as Nicco called it. They played more offense in those two games than they had all season long. I was sure that they would at least score a goal. I was sure that they could even win one of the games. Alas, they did not. But, they only lost 1-0 in each game. I told them how proud I was of them for trying so hard and learning so much. I told them they can learn as much from losing as they can from winning and as long as they try their very best and keep learning and keep trying, they have the hearts of champions. Nicco said, "I don't feel like a champion." I said, "You're not. But you have a HEART of a champion, IF you learn from losing." The lesson was above his head for now. But he did have a good experience. One we will probably repeat in October.

I have fear that they may ask me to coach again, now that I'm on the radar.

Quotes of the Day

We were watching Mr. Bean. It was the episode where he's taking a math test and he says he focused on geometry because he believed they focused on trigonometry last year. Nicco asked, "Is that when you learn about guns, how to shoot the trigger? Triggernometry?"

Yesterday when I picked Nicco up from school he told me he had a headache. I told him it was probably because of all the wind blowing dust and pollen and making his allergies bad.
He said, "No, I think it's math."

We were making something, I can't remember exactly what it was...dinner, snacks, something, and Nicco said, "Well at least that's ONE thing that isn't made in China."

No Mourning the Mourning Doves this Morning

This is what happened yesterday.

 

The Papa Bird was MIA.

 

The poor Mama was left with NO NEST to protect her baby all day in the crazy insane wind, did I mention, ALL DAY LONG. When the wind slowed, it started to rain. That poor Mama alternated facing into the wind and putting her back to it, ruffling her feathers. She was scrunched up against the wall as much as she could be, and the little baby was snuggled up under her bum.

 

We watched them all day yesterday, suffering and enduring. Patrice even said at one point, "There's nothing we can do, is there?" No, any human efforts would probably have frightened the Mama into abandoning her nestless baby. So we let them be.

 

This morning we peeked out...the Mama is still there. The baby is still there. I was talking on the phone to my sister and the Papa came back! He's rebuilding. See him? He has a twig in his mouth. 

He brings sticks and twigs and leaves and says something, nuzzles the Mama and the Baby, then he flies away to get more sticks and twigs.

I think I'm going to put some bread out for them.

Ever Wonder Where they Got the Term "Bird Brain?"

It's from these guys.

Mama and Baby in Survival Mode

Every year, we have a pair of mourning doves who nest in our orange tree. They make me kind of crazy, what with all the poop on the oranges in the fall, but it washes off.

 

We also have a pair who aren't quite quick enough or strong enough or smart enough to win the spot in the orange tree and they end up building their home on the pillar of our patio. I don't know the life cycle of a mourning dove and I don't know if this is the same pair every year or if they are the previous pair's retarded children each spring, but every. year. the nest on the pillar falls apart. Last year the pair lost at least one baby before it hatched. It was a yolky mess on the pool deck below.

 

This year I've done my best to protect them. I remind family and friends that we have a nesting mama and not to frighten her away. Leave her in peace as much as possible to hatch the babies. Yesterday we were playing Nintendopoly (that's the Nintendo collector's edition Monopoly) and watching the dove family. The Papa came home from hunting, I assume, said something to the Mama, she flew off and he settled on top of the nest. After a moment or two, we saw a baby pop its cute little fuzzy head up and the Papa fed it! It was adorable! Good for the dumb little bird family! They successfully nested and hatched at least one baby!

 

This morning is a whole other story. It's windy. The nest is practically gone. It's all in little bits and pieces, strewn about the patio. It wasn't that sturdy to begin with, and its precarious position on the pillar doesn't offer much protection or support. The poor Mama and Baby are all snuggled up as close to the wall as they can get while the Papa is hopping around trying to rebuild the nest. Every time he brings a twig back up, it gets blown away again. There's a reason it's wise to build a nest IN A TREE!

 

If they survive this windstorm, I'll be amazed.

Good Medicine

Quote of the Day from The Doctor:

When up against a werewolf and trapped inside a library, a member of The Doctor's party lamented that they didn't have a proper weapon.

On the contrary!

The Doctor said, "We have books! The greatest weapon in the world! Arm yourselves!"

The View from My Cruiser

I rode my bike to the gym today.  

Those trees are wreaking havoc on my sinuses.

This is Why We Read Books

Every week Nicco has a language arts assignment to be completed with a parent.
This week the lesson was on base words and the -ed and -ing verb endings.

The story that went with the lesson was called "Sad Day, Happy Day." It was about two kids who couldn't play outside because it was a rainy day. They didn't laugh, they didn't smile. They just looked out the window. Then, oh happy day, the sun SHINED on the rain. I asked Nicco, does it say "shined?" He said, "Yes...is that even a word? I think it should be shone." That set my little Grammar Police heart all aflutter, bursting with pride!

When he finished reading and got to the practice part of the assignment, he added all the -ed and -ing endings to the base words. He paused when he came to shine. He didn't know what to do. Should he do what the assignment says, or should he do what is grammatically correct? I told him to do what is grammatically correct.

I added a note to the paper, suggesting that his teacher point out to the children that shine is an irregular verb and shone, not shined, is the proper past tense. Then I called my mom to share the outrage. She suggested that I check my dictionary to make sure I'm right. Our language is not dead, after all. It is a living, and evolving tongue. I said yes, but the reason many improper uses become acceptable is that we have illiterates teaching illiteracy!

I checked the dictionary anyway.

It said:
Shine: v. shone or esp. for vt. 2, shined, shining. 1. to emit or reflect light 2. to stand out; excel 3. to exhibit itself clearly.

I had to look in the guide to the dictionary to find out what the "esp. for vt." designation meant before I could allow Nicco to turn in his assignment. It said, "Where three forms of the verb are given, the first represents the past tense, the second the past participle, and the third the present participle."

I win!

The moral of the story is, of course, to read books. Reading books enables one to intuitively know when something is wrong in a sentence. It makes you smart. And you win.

Easter, April Fools, and the Doctor

Nicco colored eggs on Saturday night. He left them in the dye all through the whole movie "A Night in Casablanca." (The kid LOVES Mr. Bean. We thought it would be a good time to introduce him to the Marx Brothers too.) They were the brightest eggs I've ever seen!

On Sunday morning, he hunted all the hard-boiled eggs but not the plastic ones. He was saving those to hunt with our friends when they came over after church to share our Easter feast. I was proud of him for being so generous!

The pool was up to 80 degrees so the kids played the afternoon away in the water while the grown-ups ate snacks. I made deviled eggs. Somehow, that seems a little blasphemous for an Easter treat.

We had a delightful day with our friends, we watched the conclusion of The Bible which happily focused on the Crucifixion and resurrection of Christ, and we went to bed feeling content.

Except that I may have spent some uneasy moments in fitful sleep, wondering what kind of prank the Daddy would come up with for April Fool's Day. He can be tricky, and a little mean. At pick up time in front of the school yesterday afternoon, some of the moms were talking about silly pranks. I told them about how my husband can tease me. They agreed, his last prank was mean. Nicco and I decided that we would call the Daddy on the way home from school and tell him that Nicco was climbing a tree in front of the school, fell out and broke his arm. We were on the way to the hospital. The other moms said, Oh, that's really mean. I reminded them who I was up against! We practiced in the car, with the kid crying hysterically in the back seat. Sadly, my phone dropped my calls! Curse you, AT&T! I didn't get revenge.

Nicco, apparently, had a trick up his sleeve. He told me so. Every few hours throughout the day he reminded me that he had a trick to play on me. Every time he said it, I told him he better not trick his mother! Then, just before bed, he said it one more time. I said, "You're running out of time!" He said, "HA! There is NO trick! I tricked you all day thinking there was a trick!" Ha ha.

And, we've been watching Doctor Who. My most recent favorite quote from the Doctor came in an episode in which a man was alive who was not supposed to be. Rose said to the doctor that he hardly matters. It's not like he starts World War 3 or anything. The Doctor responds, "An ordinary man, that's the most important thing in creation! The whole world is different because he's alive." I love the idea that ordinary people, as individuals, are the most important creation and that each one of us makes a difference in the world just by being alive.

Nicco thought Doctor Who was awesome. He wanted to watch one more episode before bed. There was plenty of time so we did it. It was Creepy. With a capital C. There was a little kid looking for his mommy, calling and asking in a sing-song voice, "Mommy...mommy...Are you my mommy?" And the people's faces turned into gas masks. That's the stuff of nightmares right there. I fully expected Nicco to come into my room at some point in the night. He didn't. 

The sun went down and the moon came up and our holiday weekend came to a close.

Getting My Craft On

A Peeps wreath:

If I cared very much, I could have made my Peeps wreath better. For one, I ran out of hot glue and the replacement glue sticks were the wrong size. P.S. Elmer's glue just makes a sticky, sugary, gluey mess when applied to Peeps and craft foam. Instead of running to the dollar store to get the right size hot glue sticks, I stabbed the Peeps onto the foam. Now they have belly buttons. It also would have been better if I had squished them closer together so as to hide the white marshmallow fluff inside.

I had to put it way up high to dry because our resident feline fuzzy buddy really likes Peeps.
Who knew.

Egg carton chicks:

I don't think we could have made these better. They're pretty darn cute, if you ask me. Funnily enough, the cat likes these too. She eats their feathers. But only if they're on the round table in the breakfast nook. She leaves them alone if they are on the island. She's weird.

I'm Ridiculous

I heart Vincent Van Gogh. He's my favorite.
Dear Theo is one of my favorite books, and I'll probably start reading it again soon.
Like today. Maybe. But more likely I'll obsessively begin watching Doctor Who on Netflix.

My big sis loves Vincent too. I think anyone with a soul must love him on some level. Anyway, I had a message from big sis that there was an episode of Doctor Who called Vincent and the Doctor. Or The Doctor and Vincent. She said to watch it. I did.

The Doctor is a time traveller and in this particular incident he and his friend Amy hoped to have changed a little something so that Vincent wouldn't be so full of despair but even after their visit, he committed suicide. Amy laments the fact that they didn't change a thing.

The Doctor said, "Every life is a pile of good things and bad things. The good things don't always soften the bad things but vice versa, the bad things don't necessarily spoil the good or make them unimportant."

And now I am a pile of hot, wet, salty tears.

Beach Fix

After the Flower Fields and lunch, we scooted over to Carlsbad State Beach. One of the surfer dude waiters gave us a friendly tip...if you go further north, the water is warmer due to the warm air pumped into the ocean by the San Onofre Nuclear Generating Station. Sandy joked, "uranium enriched warm water! We'll end up with extra ears and eyeballs!" Surfer Dude looked at us with dead seriousness and said, "No, it's totally safe. I surf there." It was amusing. We stuck to the colder waters of the clean Carlsbad beaches instead of venturing up to San Onofre.

Nicco swore he would only go near the water, not in the water this time. I laughed and bet him a bazillion invisible dollars that he would get soaked tip to toe. He said, "make it real dollars and I'll bet you." Mark took that bet...$20 real dollars.

The boy only stayed out of the surf long enough to play in the sand. It was mere seconds, not even minutes, until he was rolling around, soaked tip to toe by the crashing waves. Mark very kindly and generously did not hold Nicco to his wager.

 

 

I watched the pelicans and seagulls fly overhead while the Daddy took beach duty and played with the boy. What a good daddy.

And, the sun set on our vacation.

The Flower Fields

When I made plans and arrangements with our friends for our pending visit, Sandy mentioned The Flower Fields in Carlsbad. Every year, this garden by the sea plants Ranunculus in bands of color which, when they bloom, cascade down the hillside in spectacular waves of white, yellow, orange and red. Wonderful, I thought. I enjoy gardens. I'll make my boys enjoy them too. Sandy said that last year they went toward the end of the season so the flowers were past their prime and looking a little ragged in some places. This year, we were a little early.

In spite of the less than spectacular display, we stopped to smell the ranunculus. My husband was merciless in his mockery and fun-making. "Ooh, preeetty. How cute," he would say, in a high and slightly feminine voice. We walked on, defying his protests. Nicco played in the dirt. He found bits of rope and sticks and irresistible dirt piles. I made him stand by the pest management sign. Ha ha.

Three pieces of rope walk into a restaurant. They are rejected by the maitre d', who tells them the restaurant doesn't serve rope. They'll have to leave. The three pieces of rope sneak in and sit down anyway and one by one go up to the bar in an attempt to have drinks served to them at their table. The small and medium sized ropes are turned away, "Didn't we tell you, we don't serve rope here!" feeling sad and demoralized, they were about to leave but the long piece of rope had an idea. He twisted himself up and teased and pulled his ends. He walked up to the bar, ordered drinks, and the bar tender asked, "Hey, aren't you a piece of rope?" He looked the bar tender in the eye and said...

"Nope. I'm a frayed knot." and walked back to the table with drinks. Ha ha.

We wandered on, and what do you know...the further we went, the more splendorous the fields grew. Look at that! Spectacular! Waves and bands of color, cascading down the hillside!

 Ooh, ahh...

Patrice continued in his teasing and mocking and refused to join us in a family picture in the flower fields. Boo!

It may not have been as impressive when we were there as it will be in a week or so, but still...it was definitely a sight. I liked it. We wandered back toward the garden gates and stopped at the sweet pea maze. I took Nicco in. He likes mazes.

 We went up and down the rows, oohing and ahhing and enjoying the pretty sweet peas.

But after not too long, we were ready to find our way out. At that point we noticed the conversations going on around us. Choruses of "it's this way!" and "no, over here!" and "I just want to get out of here!" and "I'm ready to hop the fence and just leave!" rang in our ears.

It was a tricky maze, and Nicco said, "Let's just go back to the beginning and go out the entrance." To his disappointment and frustration, finding the beginning was just as difficult as finding the end. We finally made it to the outside edge and out the proper exit. Most of the people leaving uttered exasperated sighs of relief. The garden workers were baffled--this is supposed to be a tranquil and peaceful walk! It was funny. To me.

We stopped at the playground on the way out and Nicco obligingly played. I think he wanted to get back to the beach. He posed (kind of) for me in front of a mushroom,

 he climbed up the slide

 and peeked out the window of the "leaning treehouse of pizza"

then said, "Let's go."
We drove past the floral American Flag on our way to lunch.

I liked our garden visit, but we learned some things. A little research would have been wise before the visit. If I had known, I would have made sure that Nicco got his yellow passport to keep him occupied and entertained with kids' activities on our garden walk. I may have even asked for a second copy to keep the Daddy occupied and entertained as well.