I Spy

I spy with my little eye two boys with Christmas Fever!

 

Okay, maybe just one of the two actually has the fever, but the other one is at least a good sport.

Traditionally, the day after Thanksgiving is the day to put up the tree and other Christmas decorations but with turkey day falling so early this year, I was just not ready nor in the mood for it quite yet! But, the Christmas Fever became Actual Fever and the small boy stayed home from school on Monday, so the Dad humored and consoled him by putting up the lights. 

With the lights up, it was just a matter of time and nagging harassment before I gave in and put up the tree. And, I spy with my little eye a very naughty and sneaky cat.

Look at her. With her evil squinty eyes.

To the great disappointment of the small boy, I insisted on NOT putting any "ordaments" on the tree until after we saw how the cat dealt with the tree. Not being quite in the Christmas mood to begin with, thinking about cleaning up shattered glass really brought out the Grinch in me. The cat was not too bad on that first evening of the Plain Tree, so we added lights on the second day. Mostly she sits under the tree, with that wicked look on her kitty face, daring me to do anything about it. On Nicco's third sick day, we added the soft decorations. The cat has played with those, so the others remain boxed up.

On the third sick day, I decided to go ahead and call the doctor. I called at 8:40, ten minutes after the clinic opened, and was told there was an opening at 9:30 and at 10:15. I had not yet showered, so I took the 10:15. I arrived to a PACKED waiting room. What the crap! Seriously? A packed waiting room in a clinic with only one doctor only 1.5 hours after opening? I would not be surprised to see the place packed at the end of the day with a whole day of appointments getting backed up, but that early? Seriously? So we waited. And waited. And waited some more.

After an hour and a half of waiting I was tempted to just go home because I knew I would pay my $20 and be told that it's some virus. Drink plenty of fluids, get plenty of rest, thank you very much, cha-ching! But I figured I'd already sat there that long, I may as well stick it out to the end. We got to the exam room, the nurse weighed my kid (really? they knew why I was there...and I had just gone in for the well child visit a couple weeks before) then took his temperature and said the doctor would be in soon. Sorry for the wait, he got behind. After about 20 minutes in the exam room, my little monkey was bouncing off the walls and the Physician's Assistant came in and asked some questions, listened to heart and lungs, looked in mouth and ears, made some notes and said the doctor will be in soon.

Another twenty minutes later, the doctor came in and did all the same things the PA did, wrote a prescription for a codeine-laced cough syrup and anti-biotics for the bronchial infection. Well, I was glad I waited after all, poor kid. We went out to get our lollipop and receipt and the waiting room was completely silent and empty. Good gracious sakes, people! Learn how to schedule appointments!

Yesterday was the fourth sick day and my boy was tired (codeine!) and just wanted to watch t.v. But he also wanted to be snuggled up in a Pillow Fort. And I spy with my little eye Nicco, watching a show via periscope.

Oh my goodness.

Feast

I'm watching A Charlie Brown Thanksgiving with my kid.

They are making toast and popcorn for dinner. I asked Nicco if he would like toast for our Thanksgiving dinner.

He said, "Toast, Mom? I don't even like toast. All I like is ciabatta bread, not toasted, and without the skin."

So, I'll take that as a no.

Pilgrims in Space

Not surprisingly, Nicco has been learning about Thanksgiving traditions and history in school. Also, since the third grade class did a patriotic performance a few weeks ago we've been listening to his patriotic songs CD in the car. One of the songs mentions pilgrims. More on this later.

The boy has been talking about all the things he is thankful for. It's a good thing to do. It's good practice. He made a booklet about gratitude at school yesterday. It says, with his answers in italics,:
    
     On Thanksgiving, I'm thankful for my cat.
     I'm thankful for my family because portecshen [sic] (protection).
     At mealtimes I'm thankful for vitamins and protein.
     At school I'm thankful for my spelling tests each Friday.
     Outside when I look at nature, I'm thankful for trees because they give us oxygen and shade.
     I'm thankful I have clothes.
     I almost forgot! I'm also thankful for pilgrims.

About these pilgrims. On our ride home from Mesa when the line "Oh beautiful for pilgrim feet, whose firm impassioned stress, a thoroughfare of freedom beat across the wilderness" came up on the CD he asked, "Did pilgrims find this country?" I told him that there were people already living here but then explorers found the country. Pilgrims were the first people to settle it and build cities. He said, "I'm thankful the pilgrims built cities. We should say thank you to those pilgrims when we're in space."

The Fastest Kids in the (South) West

My weekend, in a (few) nutshell(s).

 

After school on Friday, I got my kid and hit the road. We were very excited to see our family and watch our girl run. We were very excited to spend a couple nights in a hotel...hotels are adventures. 

 

We arrived and called Aunt Di to see whether we should head to the race course or whether we should wait and see what dinner plans there were. She told us to head on out. We did. We found Miss Lucy and "pretty much her best friend" Kami and hooked up with the rest of the people. I had to follow Diana to dinner because she has a nav system and I don't.

Lucy Biles: "I beat everyone!"

Nicco was a little shy with all those crazy high school kids (they're teenagers, after all) and strangers, but he was happy anyway to see his big cousin. He smiled and giggled at her. We ate, visited, then parted ways. The racers needed to get good sleep before the big day.

Back at the hotel, Nicco wanted to sleep on the side of the bed by the clock because he was "more curious about the time" than I was. In the morning, he woke up and told me "It's 7:14 already!" so we got up, showered, packed our necessaries, ate breakfast, then headed out to the course. We got there before our family so we got acquainted with some of the other XC parents. Such good people. I had a tinge of nostalgia and was afraid I would turn into a hot puddle of sentimental tears. I kept it together for the most part.

We also watched people while we waited. XC kids are in large proportion colossal nerds. I love them. I also read team t-shirts. One said "I'm XC and I know it." Ha. One said, "We're not the Marines. We leave people behind." Double ha! One said, "Work will win where wishing won't." Nice alliteration! And, ah.

 Nicco with the sun in his eyes and his sweet big cousin Lucy.

 Lucy's coach almost photo-bombed them, but instead he pushed our girl! Such a joker.

Before the boys' race, this little 9 year-old girl sang the national anthem. It was pretty much amazing.

The boys team won their state championship and hoped to qualify for nationals at this meet. The top 2 teams automatically qualified, with a handful of wild-cards on the edge. The wild card teams have to wait anxiously for results from the other regions to find out if they make it or not.

Here's my boy watching the finish of one of the races.

And here's my boy killing time between races. He was very patient and good on what was probably a mostly boring day for him.

 (Today I'm thankful for portable technology with which to entertain small children.)

 Our speedy girls, Kami and Lucy, pre-race.

 Warming up.

 An anxious Mama and Coach at the start.

The top four runners, just beyond one mile. There were these two sets of two leading the other 220-some girls. They ran shoulder to shoulder, sometimes jockeying for position, trading places here and there. The computer chips kept live-stats up until the 2nd mile, then everyone was in suspense to see the finish. It was a blind finish, so we had to just wait until they came around the corner.

Lucy ran strong and had a solid 4th place finish. Those Colorado girls ahead of her were just a little too fast. She and the other top 5 finishers broke the course record, she ran her personal best, and she retained her title of Fastest Girl In Utah, enhancing it a bit by becoming the Fastest Girl in UT, AZ, NM, and NV. Good girl!

This is why I love Cross Country...friendly rivals. There is no "let's go stomp on their throats and kill!" attitude in XC.

The sun made it difficult for Nicco to see his i-pad screen while he waited for the awards. He improvised.

Lucy and 18 of the top 21 finishers. She qualified for the national championship in two weeks. We're so proud! She was one place out of medals, but lucky her, she did not go home without hardware. Nicco brought two plastic dollar store Winner medals up to give to the girls. It was cute.

 Here are the kids, being silly. So shocking that kids would be silly.

 Again, with the silliness.

And the runners (minus one) with their coaches. Minus One was off pouting, I think. The boys came in 4th in a tie-breaker. Their little hearts were nearly broken. But not quite, because they still have that wild-card shot at nationals.

After running races and waiting for awards and waiting to process info for nationals and waiting for everyone to take pictures, everyone was pretty much starving and exhausted. We went to Whataburger for lunch and Nicco got to sit next to his cousin while he ate his patty. He smiled and giggled. He was not the only boy smiling and giggling at Lucy and Kami. Although for entirely different reasons.

The parents took the kids back to their home base, I took Nicco back to the hotel, then while the kids played and celebrated, the moms went to see some silly movie and Diana came to visit with me. We got some good sister-time in, and I loved it. It was so much fun.

This morning Nicco wished he could see Lucy again, but everyone had a long day of driving ahead. I'm glad my drive was only 2 hours, not 12. We're home safe and the Daddy is off on his motorcycle. And all is right with the world.

I'm So Exciting!

Once upon a time, Nicco said he was so exciting when he meant he was so excited. Since then, I almost always say (in my head) I'm so exciting! when I mean I'm so excited! I know my big sis relates.

Speaking of Big Sis, she (and her offspring) are the reason for my emotional state.

I get a road trip! Yay!

I'm picking up my boy from school this afternoon and heading up to Mesa for the Nike Southwest Regional Cross-Country Championship! Which I expect my super-speedy niece to win! Well, to be fair, maybe I don't expect her to win. I would not be one. tiny. bit. surprised if she does, however.

I'm going to spend an evening, a day (at the races! yippee!) and a night with my sister basking in the reflected glory of my State Champion niece. It will be all nostalgic and fun. Nostalgic just because I ran cross-country too once upon a time when I was young, not because I have any remote idea what it is like to be fast, let alone a State Champion. Then again, I'm not sure Lucy has any idea either. Machines don't have emotions.

Good times ahead!

A Story; or Be Careful What You Wish For

I have all sorts of wild emotions swirling about my heart and mind. I'm disappointed, angry, sad, betrayed, bitter...

I don't want to be angry, sad and bitter. Can't help the disappointed and betrayed, but I can control the others.

As a family, we have decided to really focus on our own self reliance. Watching the election and the weather disaster and the government's response to the disaster in the North East really spurs the interest in depending on NO ONE for our own well being and survival. This will give us a sense of peace and confidence to replace some other negative thoughts and feelings.

We are going to have a provident living Christmas!

As an individual, I want to focus on being more compassionate and kind. I'm pretty selfish. Referring again to the Nor'east, being perfectly honest, those people have pretty much voted the compassion out of me. I don't feel bad for people who can't manage the minimum preparation with at least A WEEK'S NOTICE of pending disaster. I'm an ant, dammit, and the grasshoppers can freeze and starve for all I care.

I kind of feel bad for people whose homes got destroyed and swept away. No amount of food storage or preparedness can help you in that kind of disaster. But all the people in the streets fighting and screaming for help just asked for MORE government interference in all of our lives and guess what...they aren't that reliable. In fact, FEMA shut down because of bad weather.

So, with all this bitterness, I really do want to be kind. I don't like being hateful. It's no fun. I've spent a few days really pondering and focusing on being more generous with my time and helping my actual neighbors in their need. Lo and behold, on Monday morning I had an e-mail about a family who just moved into our ward, the Mama just had a baby and just came home from an extended stay at the hospital because of a blood clot and they are not yet unpacked. Could anyone help her unpack, watch her kids, bring her dinner? The next day I had a text from my friend asking if I would have time Wednesday to help her pick up a car in Phoenix. Last night I got a call from another friend asking if I could watch her kid after school because Plan A fell through. It was an emergency.

Well, I asked for it after all. So yes, yes, and yes.

I spent Tuesday morning helping New Jenny unpack and dropped pizza and salad off for her family on my way to a Relief Society meeting about canning meat. (Provident Living!) I spent this morning on a pleasant drive up to Phoenix with my friend. We chatted and got to know a little more about each other.

As we pulled up to the place where she was picking up her car, I told her I brought my taser just in case. She said, "The razor-wire is making you a little nervous, is it?" So in industrial Phoenix, she finalized her transaction with a very pleasant man, whose daughter (roughly 30, I'd say) worked at the reception desk. He gave Emily some pointers on driving the '67 Bronco but then when my 5'2" friend asked how to adjust the seats, he said, "Uh...that might be a problem." The seats don't adjust, she doesn't drive a stick...so we decided to trade drivers. The seats were still a bit of a stretch for me, but not as bad. The helpful and kind Seller of the Vehicle found a big fat phone book and a pillow for a back rest to bring the "seat" forward a little. He duct-taped (you can do anything with duct-tape!) foam blocks to the pedals to bring them closer too. I think he felt bad sending two girls not much older than his own daughter out on the road in that car.

Emily decided she could drive it after all. I promised to follow close behind. We stopped for gas and a quart of oil, but we couldn't figure out how to pop the hood. A (homeless?) guy approached us and offered assistance. Emily was on the phone with the Kindly Seller of the Vehicle who drove down quickly to show her how to pop the hood. It was slightly tricky, but easy if you know how. Homeless Guy wasn't leaving. I was glad I had my taser, just in case. Homeless Guy asked for the empty oil bottle. "I use it for...something else," he said mysteriously. "Mumble mumble bicycle mumble mumble." Okay...

Kindly Seller of the Vehicle didn't leave until Homeless Guy wandered away and Emily was safely on the road. Thank you, Kindly Seller of the Vehicle!

Emily and I made a deal to trade cars about halfway home, but she just kept on going past the mid-point. When we pulled into her driveway, she said she was so miserable she just wanted to push through and not stop for nothin'. She thanked me profusely for my willingness to help and I told her I was glad she called. Really! I was! I'm her visiting teacher after all, so I should be the person she calls for help!

Now that I am home safely I am digging out playdough and cookie dough to entertain and feed small children when they come home from school.

And now my generosity plate is full, thanks! Maybe I'll go back to bitter for just a day or two...

{{Shivers}}

I only just officially turned off the air conditioner.

I'm supposed to have a good 2-3 weeks, a month even, where I can open doors and windows and let the fresh air in before I have to turn the heater on.

The other day when Nicco talked to his grandparents, they mentioned cold and snow. He said it's cold here too, like in the 60s or 70s. Which is fine for outside but it's down to 68 in the house!

This will not do.

Season of Gratitude

Wowsers.

Just, Wow.

My little boy came to me just now and said, Mom, aren't you glad you were born and live in this country?

Yes, I said. I am extraordinarily thankful that we live in this land of freedom and opportunity.

He said, Soldiers fight and die to protect us and our country.

Yes, I said. And I am very thankful that there are soldiers who are willing to fight and die for our freedom. They fight and die to protect good, honest, hardworking, strong and industrious people.

Like Dad, he said.

Yes, like Dad.

So I'm going to be thankful for two things this year, he said.

What are those two things, I asked.

What we just talked about and my family, he said.

I'll tell you what, I'm thankful that amid my weeping and wailing and gnashing of teeth as I obsessed over politics leading up to and through the night of the election that THIS is what my boy came away with. Gratitude and love.

Lost Tooth Follow Up

My cute and silly little boy. He's cute and silly. He wants me to take pictures of odd things so they can "be a memory forever." I agree with the sentiment, but not especially with all the things he wants to remember forever.

 

I did agree to take a picture of the "I lost a tooth!" sticker he got at school today. And now it's a memory forever. 

I told him that every time I lost a tooth as a kid my Dad would say "Now you have a hole in your head!" He laughed. I was planning to secretly call my Dad to tell him to mention the hole in his head the next time he spoke to Nicco, but I forgot.

When he got home from school, I asked Nicco if he wanted to call his grandparents to tell them about his tooth. He said sure and called them up. He talked to his grandma briefly before his grandpa got on the line. He said "I lost my tooth today!" I heard my Dad in the background say "Now you have a hole in your head!" Hip-hip-hooray! He didn't need to be told! He said it is one benefit of being predictable. You don't have to be reminded to be predictable.

Nicco put his tooth in a treasure box. I asked him if he wants to put it under his pillow for the tooth fairy. He said "No, I want to keep it forever. Besides, I don't really believe in fairies."

Well, says the Mom to herself, that was easy.

Finally!

At each of the  four dentist visits in the past two years Doctor Flynn has told Nicco that he will start losing those baby teeth soon. The x-rays show the adult teeth pushing up, but no wiggling.

Because a handful of preschoolers, lots of kindergartners, and all but one first grader had lost at least one tooth, Nicco has been exposed to several tooth fairy and losing teeth storybooks.

One day he said to me, "I'm tired of being a baby. When am I going to lose these darn teeth?!?"

Last Saturday he bit into a carrot at lunch and his eyes got big and welled up with frightened tears, his face paled, his little chin quivered and he said to me in a shaky squeaky voice tinged with panic, "Mom, mytoothiswigglingbecauseIcrackeditandthatisnotgood. THAT.IS.NOT.GOOD."

I patted his noggin and told him to let me have a look. I wiggled it and told him the crack he heard inside his head was one part carrot, one part root. I drew a diagram of a tooth and explained the process of root deterioration and told him that this is normal. He was comforted.

The next day, he was eating cake and told me thanks for the red frosting. I told him it was probably blood, not frosting. I didn't put any frosting on the cake. He ran to the bathroom to look in the mirror and had a small freak-out about the blood. In the same squeaky panicky voice, he asked me "Is this normal?" to which I responded yes. Sigh of relief.

The four days following the initial crack were highlighted roughly every 30 minutes with the question, "Is it ready yet?" No matter how many times I told him he'll know when it's ready and it could take a few days, he just kept asking.

This morning I asked him how his tooth is doing. He let me wiggle it. I got a big smile. He asked, "Is it ready?" I said, "Yes! Are you?" He nodded. I got a little piece of paper towel and told him it might hurt a teeny little bit. He giggled and bounced and said, "DO IT!"

I pulled, he put his tongue in the hole in his head and said, "That was it? Are you kidding me? That didn't hurt a bit!" Then he ran to show his Dad.

He finally gets to join all his other classmates on the "Lost a Tooth" chart at school. Perfect timing too, he's the Special Person of the Week this week.

I haven't seen smiles like this since Christmas!

The End

I believed in that Shining City on a Hill.

We are not that Shining City on a Hill.

Like my little sis said, this is a nation of godless, lazy, selfish, entitled, greedy dependents.

This is the end of politics for me. I'm going to turn it off and put on my metaphorical earmuffs and blinders. TFG will suck my soul and spirit from me otherwise. And he's not worth it. Neither are his mindless supporters. I don't have faith in the American people anymore. Traitors. Slaves to a tyrant. I don't believe in America anymore. The nation of our founders died yesterday, may she rest in peace. A republic, madam, if you can keep it. Ha! Sorry Mr. Franklin, we couldn't keep it. We had a good run, but it's over.

Am I bitter? Why yes, yes I am. I am bitterly clinging to my guns and my religion because that is what's left. I have faith in God. And I have faith in my Ruger.

And when SHTF, and trust me, S will HTF, all those wards of the state who think that Big Brother will take care of them will cannibalize and be cannibalized first. And when the zombies come, my family and I can sit back and pick them off one by one.

We'll win.

Makers v. Takers

Sadly, this is what we have become.

I believed in America.

I believed in individualism.

I believed in Freedom.

Now, I believe that we take what we can take.

Gas it up, burn it down.

And move to the caribbean.

It's Morning Again in America

It's going to be a long day, Patriots.

Vote.

I voted!

Let's get this done.

It's a Sign

There's a saying in Colorado that you know God's a Broncos fan, why else would he paint the sunset Orange and Blue?

 

So how do we know God's a Romney supporter?

Spooktacular

Our Halloween season began just a day after we got back from vacation. We went to the pumpkin farm with some friends. This was before Nicco's field trip and he didn't especially want to go with our friends because he didn't want to spoil the school sponsored excursion. We didn't especially want to go because we just got back from our trip and still had unpacking and laundry to do.

 

But, our friend has a very unpredictable schedule and we knew this might be the best chance for fun together so off we went.

The kiddos climbed to the top of the huge and giant Straw Mountain. 

USA! USA! USA!

They bet on blue in the piglet races.

They tried to feed the animals at the petting zoo, but for some reason, the animals just weren't all that hungry.

I'm sure it had nothing to do with the never ending stream of people shoving cups full of food in their faces.

They bounced on the bouncy pillow.

They raced around the hay track in these carts. We tried to discourage Nicco because it looked like work and I had this funny feeling that he would get frustrated and mad. And, sure enough, after his foot slipped off the pedal twice and it was hard to get going again, I had to push him around the track. Irritating. Oh well.

 

The Daddies showed the kids how it's done:

We rode a big truck out to the dusty pumpkin fields and found our perfect pumpkins.

The kids were dusty, tired, and satisfied. Success.

 

There was also a zip line...Nicco couldn't resist. His review? Not as fun as the Monkey Jungle. I guess we'll have to go back! (To the monkey jungle, I mean. Not the pumpkin farm.)

That child of mine loves all holidays. He loves all celebrations. He counts down from one to the next and is always looking forward to whatever is coming up. So, in spite of my natural minimalist tendencies, I try my best to do fun and exciting things for my kid around holidays.

 

I made mummies for dinner:



 And ghosts in the graveyard for dessert.

 I thought these spooky treats were clever and fun. Nicco was not impressed. "Mom," he said, "Those are just hot dogs in bread with ketchup. They are not mummies and blood and bandages."

I brought out dessert and told him it is spoooOOOoooky...GhooooOOOooosts in the graveyard...ooooOOOOoooh. He said, "Mom, you're not scaring me at all." I was tempted to turn off all the lights and set him in front of the Michael Meyers Halloween movie marathon. You want scary, buddy, I'll give you scary. I chose not to traumatize my sassy little boy after all. But I wanted to.

We walked around the neighborhood trick-or-treating. I love Halloween in Arizona. We were in shorts and t-shirts, and many of the neighbors were out on their patios or in their driveways greeting the kids. So fun and friendly.

My little Mario was a hit again. At one house a couple of teenage boys told him "Awesome Mario costume, Dude." Nicco whispered to me, "I can't believe teenagers called me dude!" I think he was a little bit proud.

Speaking of teenagers, we went to Burger King for lunch the other day. We had the play place all to ourselves, which I think is great. Nicco wished for someone to play with. Then we saw a family with two older kids walking towards the play place...slowly approaching...Nicco quickly hid behind a slide. When they sat down at the table just on the other side of the door, my boy came out and said, "Phew! That was close." I said I thought he wanted someone to play with. He said, "Not teenagers Mom. Teenagers."

 

This morning as we walked along the sidewalk to school Nicco told me that 6th grade is when it starts getting bossy. Kindergarten, first grade, and the lower grades are pretty good, but the older grades are bad.

 

Why, I asked.

 

You guessed it, Teenagers.

 

ooooOOOOoooo....Spooky.

 

Happy Halloween! 

 

Pause, Breathe

There is no noise like the noise of Five Boys. Particularly, I dare say, if the Five Boys are all of the same age.  My ears are still ringing.

Wednesday started what has come to be known at our house as The Four Busy Days.

The Four Busy Days began with me volunteering for a fundraiser at Nicco's school which I only volunteered for in an effort to look good. It was Papa John's Pizza Delivery Night. Painted Sky Families could order pizza and have the kids' teachers deliver it! Fun! Tip your teacher! Yippee! Mrs. G. sent an e-mail telling the parents of her students that she would be a delivery gal, but she needed two drivers to take two-hour shifts on the delivery night. After a couple of days went by, (I thought surely by then someone would have taken the slots) I asked if she had her drivers. She said via e-mail that I was the first to offer! Oh. Okay. See, I didn't really want to do it. I just wanted her to know I was willing to do it. Foiled by my own delusions of awesomeness. I had to actually be awesome, instead of only appearing to be awesome.

I took the early shift and Nicco came along. The day before the event the co-chair called to make sure we all followed through with our commitments. She said she had so much fun last year that she volunteered to help chair the event this year. Don't worry, my delusions don't stretch that far. Anyway, we met at the pizza joint, had a slice, then hit the road. We delivered 5 pizzas in our shift, chatted about this and that, got in some good quality time with the lovely Mrs. G., and got home in time for the Daddy to say, "Maybe we should order pizza!" It was a well organized event and I'm glad I scored the desirable Brownie Points on such an easy task!

Thursday was The Boy's Birthday. Busy.

Friday was a first grade field trip to the Pumpkin Farm. Truth being told, that is where I really wanted to score my brownie points. Alas, I was not alone. Mrs. G. put the names of the volunteers into a hat and drew out two lucky parents. I was not one of them. boo. I had to send my boy off on his first Field Trip on a Bus, alone. Without me. Just like his first day of French Camp, I survived.

Those Three Busy Days behind us, I had to face the Busiest of the Busy Days. Birthday Party Day. I let Nicco choose five friends. I scheduled a bounce house to be delivered. It arrived, Nicco bounced. We skipped lunch for the bouncing. Then the friends trickled in, one by one. It was a bouncy good time. There were only a few arguments about who was The Boss. King for a Day did not like the Peasant Uprising. There were only a couple of bumps and bruises and I think only one elbow to the face. When the Testosterone-Fueled Seven Year Old Alpha Male contest reached a boiling point, I, in my wisdom, shut it down and fed the animals Sugar. Sugary-sugar with sugar on top.

Then presents. Then more bouncing. Then, mercifully, three o'clock came. The boys went home, one by one. Minutes after the last one pulled away, the Daddy came home and took over. Ahh. Daddies. Yay!

My ears are still ringing with the shouts and *other* noises of five boys.

Now my two boys are playing. And I don't have to supervise them.

King For A Day

Nicco woke up yesterday morning with big eyes and a big smile, greeted by a brand new Angry Birds "Happy Birthday" sign. He kept that smile pasted on his face as he glanced around the house wondering where the balloons and presents were.

 

Still smiling he said, "I guess you can get the gifts while I am at school today." On the way to school he said, "I think you already have gifts. They're probably just hiding."

 

Bingo, Sneaky Pete.

 

While the boy was at school I went on a quest for the one thing he claimed he wanted more than anything else and which I did not find at Target the other day. After that, I set up a treasure hunt for him. The Birthday Boy did actually deserve a little bit of birthday fun while waiting for the Daddy to come home from work.

 

When I picked him up from school he insisted I take a picture of his "Hoppy Birthday" sticker so Daddy could see it. He didn't think he could wear it much longer. It had a small rip, you see. That bugs.

When Nicco said goodbye to his Dad he said, "I thought you would cancel work today." He was slightly disappointed and surprised that his Dad did not come home early for his birthday. He was excited and surprised however when he saw the balloon on the freezer in the garage! He pounded on the window and yelled for me to let him out.

 

He went on his treasure hunt and I forgot to take pictures, so I made him tell his Dad about it when he got home.

In the garage was a balloon with a #1 and the message "Happy birthday, Nicco dear! Put your backpack and your lunchbox on the counter and find #2." I attached a small surprise to each balloon to satisfy the birthday gift craving.

When he put his things on the counter he found #2 which said, "It's your birthday, shout hooray! Put your shoes away and your dirty socks in the laundry to find #3."

In his hamper was the third surprise and a note telling him "Work before fun! Do your homework, read 3 books on RAZ-kids, do one

X-tra math assignment, practice your spelling, then you can help with the cake and find #4."

 

After the schoolwork was done, we got to work on the cake. He found #4 in the pantry.

"If the cake is baking, you can clean your toilet and find #5." Patrice was shocked (!) that I made him clean his toilet on his birthday. King for a Day, after all. I said the King needs a clean throne. Besides, I needed to occupy hands and mind so Mr. Sneaky wouldn't rip into his presents without the Daddy.

On the toilet tank was #5, telling him he's such "a helper! What a big boy! You must be at least 7. If you put away your games, you will find #6."

He put his games in the game closet and found the last message. "I bet you are ready for presents! Is Daddy home? No? Then you may play i-pad until he comes home. Then check your mail. You might find #7, the magic number!"

 

He told me he could just check his mail but not open any presents. Just check, he said, as he creeped slowly toward the patio door. Just check. I promise. No way, I said! For the first time ever in the history of earth I had to force my kid to play i-pad.

 

Luckily, all those other little tasks took up enough time that the Daddy arrived within about 20 minutes and we went out to the mailbox to find #7.

It was just like Up! I suppose it was a good thing I used some of the balloons for the treasure hunt, otherwise the tree house may have floated away!

He found his pile o' presents inside. He giggled and squealed and said things like "Don't EVEN tell me! Lego Harry Potter???!!! More Legos???!!! A Terrain Twister???!!!"

He played with his Dad until bedtime. He told me it was worth the wait.

Nicco Has a Birthday, Shout Hooray!

Seven years ago today my Dad packed up the wife and the hunting rifles, quit the hunt early and zipped from Utah to Colorado in time to see the 10th grandchild when he was just hours old.

 

The Grandparents in France were toasting the 7.5 pound boy who didn't yet have a name.

 

Patrice and I were alternately sleeping and crying.

 

Nicco mostly just looked around at the new world he occupied.

 



 

This is probably my favorite picture of him ever.

I love him so. I can hardly believe it's been seven years. Happy Birthday, my baby!

The Dolphin Show

This is (allegedly) Nicco in the Dolphin Show. He claims he was not in a dolphin show. He's shy, you know. He doesn't want to be famous. Also, it was not his idea. Therefore, he does not like the idea. I have to give him credit though. Despite documented proof to the contrary, he is stubbornly sticking to his story that he was not in a dolphin show.

If you know Nicco, you can see his hesitation to go with the trainer to the arena. He had to wiggle his fingers to make the dolphin sing, then he surfed a dolphin on a boogie board. His job was to wave and smile. I think he was focused on not falling off the board. He had to be coaxed and reminded to do his job.

I love this! I thought it was just so awesome to see my little guy up in the air riding the dolphins. This is the part he hated...he did not have his goggles, so he got salty water in his eyes and up his nose on the drop. That made it the worst thing ever. We were proud that even in his reluctance to perform the boy did not freak out.

For the non-lip-readers out there, I thought that was awesome. Good times!

Some Videos

Nicco was just a teeny little bit wired at the airport on our way to the D.R. 

And he was just a teeny little bit giddy to play in the ocean.

And, he and this little Dominican boy speak the universal language of children.



More fun in the ocean. 

Getting hooked onto the zip line.

 Grinding cocoa or coffee beans, the traditional way.

Cock fight. "How can you tell who's the winner and who's the loser? By killing each other."

Nicco's ocean game...hours and hours of this. He never got tired. Can't say the same for me. It was worth it though, for sure.

More fun in the waves and sun with my kiddo.

That is all for now...I am going to have to figure out a way to edit the dolphin show videos, I think. I'm not sure I can upload the whole thing on this format. We'll see.