The Power of Boredom

One of the best parts of my week is Saturday morning. I like it because it usually offers the time tested staples of a leisurely weekend such as a big family breakfast, hot coffee brewing when I stumble out of my room, and a little personal time for everyone. However, Saturday morning usually starts on Friday evening so things can get a bit complicated in an effort to simplify.

It happens like this...on Friday evening everyone slowly makes their way into bed and the parents of the house head up to say evening prayers. Friday evening prayers are different because they ALWAYS end with a fatherly admonition that the child praying should include a prayer for a spirit of quietness the following morning to let the paternal unit sleep in lest his ire be raised to just below the ceiling followed by the child in question loosing a finger or other appendage. So Saturday mornings are usually quiet. But as every parent knows, quiet can mean trouble.

So it was that this morning, all was quiet. The sun was up, the air was cool and breakfast was finished. Given the beauty of this particular Georgia morning, I sent everyone outside for some fresh air and solid play. The first indication of trouble came when Samuel showed up in the kitchen and just kind of stood around looking sheepish. I queried, "Why aren't you outside?" His reply was unexpected, but not surprising. "I don't what to get in trouble when Mason and Wyatt get hurt." "Why would they get hurt?" "They're on the roof!", he said, not wanting to tell on them but not wanting to lie either.

A while later, after a little more too much quiet, I heard a loud conversation taking place in the garage and stole slowly to the door to ascertain what was being said. That's when I discovered that my children were being forced to take their imaginations to new heights to think up something to do since there was no TV, Playstation, or Computer actually operating in the back yard.

My discovery of their level of boredom came in the form of a sentence from Mason as each threw their ideas for fun into the proverbial hat. He said, "Let's practice scewdriver throwing!"

A Christmas to Remember

Christmas is a great holiday. Giving and getting, spending time with family, eating till you wanna pop, and ultimatly breaking something by days end. It's both hectic and fun. This year we decided to do something a bit different. We limited our gifts to the kids and sent a certified letter to Santa to do the same. On Christmas day, after the rush of early morning excitment had subsided a bit, we presented them with "final gift"...a group gift. Nothing special, just two small books. Tour books outlining the sights and highlights of Washington DC. Olivia was the first to catch on with, "Are we going to Washington DC?" at which the boys stopped and stared awaiting an answer. Indeed, we were going to DC. They freaked out and immediatly began pouring over the books to determine what they wanted to see. So for the rest of Christmas day, the kids talked and played, I worked to finish re-plumbing our bathroom and Tina packed us all up in anticipation of leaving town the next day.

The 26th arrived as scheduled and we loaded up bright and early to drive north. It was a 9-10 hour road trip but we arrived and checked into the lodging office at Bolling Air Force Base. The next 3 days were cram-packed with sights and tours and subway rides and miles of walking but each one had a great time getting their first taste of the history of America. We saw everything from The Wright Brothers Flyer to the Declaration of Independance. We saw Abraham Lincolns Top Hat and Ford's Theatre. We saw Kermit the Frog and the Hope Diamond. We visited the Lincoln, FDR, Jefferson, and Washington Monuments, the War Memorials for Viet Nam, Korea, and WWII. On our last day we visited Arlington National Cemetery, wathched the changing of the guard at the Tomb of the Unknowns, saw the grave of Audie Murphy and other significant figures in American history.

I could go on for hours about the details of what we did and where we went. But the purpose of the trip was to allow the kids to see the seat of our government and everything surrounding it. One thing we did was get each of them a small journal and made them take the time to write each night about the days events. On December 27th, our first day of actual touring, Wyatt summed up the events and feelings of the entire trip very concisely. Dec 27 - We went to the the Library of Congress. I saw most of the memorials in Washington DC. We are going to see the museums tomorrow. PS. I had a great day.

There's A Signpost Up Ahead...

Fear. That about describes it. Fear is a good word. Or maybe apprehension is a bit better. Then again terror might just be the best of all. At any rate, the experienced effect underquestion is like soaking yourself in gasoline and then standing there, holding a disposable lighter, and thinking about the sensation to come. Not a pretty picture.

Such is the emotional landscape I find myself surveying. Why, you ask? Because at this moment a young man stands before me bearing the bane of parents everywhere...his drivers permit. Our firstborn, our little man, the eldest of our brood wants to drive my car, and he has the blessing of the state of Georgia to do it. I don't think my heart, lungs, brain, or bowels can take this. How can he possibly be old enough to drive? Just yesterday we were bathing him in the kitchen sink! I am becoming convinced (and I'm mere moments into this thing) that teen driving is the primary cause of mid-life crisis. My hair is greying, my eyes are bagging, and my stomach is on the verge of purging at the thought of it all.

Woe unto me that I was ever born for such a day as this. Woe be unto my pocket book whence I must upgrade my auto insurance. Woe for I am undone at the thought of the first fruits of my loins hurling himself and others hither and yon at speeds approaching 15 MPH!

And so we embark on the next phase of parenting and childing. Next stop, girlfriends!

From the Mouths of Babes

Few things in life will make you feel older than a Birthday. Today is mine. I’m 41. But besides marking the beginning of another year of life, this kind of occasion is a great teaching opportunity. You can teach all kinds of things. For instance, advanced math is a good subject.

As we hung around the house, getting dinner ready and assisting the kids with their homework, I casually conversed with my youngest, Olivia. Tina, seizing upon this rare and exciting math teaching opportunity, said to Olivia, “Today, Daddy is 41. So when you’re 16 he’ll be…?” She immediately completed the sentence, “Dead!”

Testing the Legend

It seems all of our kids are at the age when their teeth fall out in clumps. A few days ago, Mason lost yet another tooth (possibly one of his last). He told us about it but didn't tellus that on that very night, he forgot (or neglected) to place said tooth under his pillow. The next morning, no tooth equaled no cash. The following night, unbeknownst to Mom and Dad, he put the tooth under his pillow but didn't tell anyone whether or not TF paid him a visit. Several days later, curiosity got ahold of Tina at the dinner table and she asked, "Mason, did you ever remember to put your tooth under your pillow?" He replied, "The first night I forgot but the second night I remembered." "And what happened?", Mother queried. "A dollar" came the quick and unemotional reply. "Why didn't you tell anyone?" She continued. At last the cat came out of the bag, "Well, I thought you guys were the tooth fairy so I didn't tell anyone."

I'm sure. We're TF! Whatever!

The Girl Who Tempted Fate

A storm was hanging in the sky, waiting to unload on us, so we contented ourselves with indoor activities. Some played games, some watched TV, at least one cooked dinner. It was patently unremarkable. Given the impending weather, none of us reacted very much when the power went out and then within seconds came back on. Other than the need to reset all the clocks in the house, it wasn't much of a bother…a mere hiccup in the midst of our relaxation.

Go back with me to a few moments earlier and taste what it must have been like to be my own parent. Our youngest, and probably our most mischievous, Olivia, decided that since it wasn't actually raining she would go out side and play until the weather dictated otherwise. As she wandered about the house alone something caught her eye. A large box on the side of the house with a huge handle along side. This particular side of the house is not often visited as it is out of the way. But she visited it. And the handled box tickled her fancy. It was, of course, the main breaker to the entire house and she just had to know what would happen if she pulled that handle! A quick jerk, a loud click, and nothing. So she quickly pushed it back into its original position and continued with her play, ignorant of the demon of electricity she had just played with.

Sometimes I think about the stupid things I did out of ignorance or pure curiosity and it makes me sick to my stomach. When she innocently confessed to what she had done, I think my heart stopped. Even now, we are preparing her shackles to be worn until she's 28.

Cootie Avoidance and the Art of Dress

There are many things in today's world from which to choose as a source of entertainment. For Tina and me one of the things we like to do is watch "What Not to Wear" on the learning channel, wherein the hosts take someone in desperate need of a well developed fashion sense and school them in the arts of proper dress. This schooling includes everything from the do's and don'ts of color matching, to how a pair of pants can flatter even the most unflattering figure. Earlier this week one of the "students" on the show was wearing a pair of pants that were held tightly in place by some overzealous elastic approximately 18 inches above her navel. To further the "look" she wore a standard brassiere that fit in a very non-standard way. The end result was that her top half and her bottom half appeared to be in the process of a continental collision somewhere in the vicinity of her 3rd rib. So, the hosts of the show politely talked her through the proper fit of ladies undergarments. Tina then commented, in an offhanded fashion, "I guess none of mine fit properly."

This weekend was Mothers Day. A day where children celebrate their Mothers and husbands sweat profusely at the prospect of having to explain that they didn't actually forget, they were simply busy preparing for Christmas. So it was that mere days before Mother's Day I was still considering real versus fake Christmas Trees and had yet to do anything tangible for this weekend. That's when fate stepped in in the form of a very poorly dressed woman in an ill fitting bra. This was my chance and I grabbed on with gusto. I proudly announced that we were going to the mall!

Once there I directed the family to the upper level and headed to Victoria's Secret. One of Victoria's secrets is that boys under 25 will melt if they go in the store. So the adults in the group fastened the kids to the rail outside the store and headed in to buy a brand new, properly fitting, extremely comfortable and fabulously attractive bra. Once done we headed out of the store and attempted to hand the bright pink gift bag to the boys. They of course were having none of it. After all, it was pink and probably had terminal cooties.

The next day was Mothers Day. We got ready for church and Tina donned her new bra and her old robe and worked feverishly to get the kids into dressing mode, with some success. At one point she approached Wyatt for who knows what and didn't notice that her bra was showing ever so slightly. Wyatt was very purposeful in his avoidance of eye to bra contact. Just looking at it might bring on who knows what kind of disease. So I jokingly asked why he was so embarrassed to which he replied, with emphasis on each letter, "I do not want to see her B-R-A-W-L."