These Training Wheels

"I want to take these training wheels off forever!" proclaims my 4-year old, my baby.

It was just the sweetest, cutest thing ever said that day, after Gise had become a full-fledged member of the 2-wheel riding universe.

Achieving this status is one of the big milestones in the preschool years, along with learning how to pump on a swing, tie your shoes, and wipe your own booty. As a parent, I revel in any achievement accomplished by my child, especially one that can make the bike rides go a bit more speedy. The child too is often so proud he'll have to call all the grandmas and grandpas, have to ride from morning up to sundown, and proclaim he'll take those training wheels off forever (or at least until he graduates to an adult tricycle).

Yet, as Gise stated his declaration, and after the cuteness of it settled in, I realized I was hesitant in him taking those training wheels off. He'll have so many more opportunities in his life to do so, and I'm scared, nervous for him. What about when he has to take off the training wheels when he gets cut from the team? What about when he has to take off the training wheels and deal with a broken heart from his first love? What about when he has to take off the training wheels and head to college? What about when he has graduates from that college and faces the world of the employed/unemployed?

I know he will face all of these milestones at some point in his life, but I just want to hold him back from it all for awhile. My baby.

I also know that taking those training wheels off leads to some fabulous adventures. These moments are what help us grow, grow into who we become. I pray that I do have children who take the training wheels off and embrace the experiences with such clarity and confidence. I pray they will learn from these moments, knowing it will make them a better human being, shaping them into the person God has planned from the beginning for them to become.

Go ahead, Gise, take those training wheels off forever. If you fall, get back up and keep going. If you hurt, surround yourself with those who will you encourage you and make you feel better. Wear the right equipment to keep yourself from harm. Ride alongside others who share your same goals, but always pushing each other to be better. When you have no one to ride with, riding by yourself is good for you too.

Overall, I am so excited for you, Gise. The smile seen on your face, especially as you can now ride like The Brothers, is priceless. I am so proud you have reached this moment in your life. I will be there for each one of them, Lord willing. Mostly, I want you to be proud of you, not needing to do it for others, but for yourself.

Ride, my child, ride.

Enjoy it.

It's So Quiet, I Can Hear My Head Not Pounding

Shhh...

Do you hear that?  Me neither.

Except for the tapping at the keyboard and the quiet noises an unemployed husband makes reading his newspaper at the kitchen table, it is quiet; it is still; it is calm.

I have endured the summer.  I have made it.  Made it through countless arguments over who hit who and who said what.  Made it through the guilt of allowing them countless hours of watching "iCarly" and "Phineas & Ferb" and recordings of "Wipeout".  Made it through an enumerable amount of inquisitions on why this one or that one could sleep over or not.  Made it through the summer having the aforementioned husband home and kids not truly understanding why he can't play 24-7 since he is not working.

Now, as I sit in the peace, I can say it was worth it.  Today is the first day of school.  This is the day my youngest has started going all day, mind you it is only 2 days a week, but we have to start somewhere.

I walked in the door after dropping the younglings off and asked the husband, "Now what do I do?"  He said I should lay on the couch and read a book.  "Are you being sarcastic?" I questioned, seeing as that is all I did during my summer of endurance.  Yet, when others who have asked me what I am going to do now with my free time, I have responded with exactly the words my husband said to me this morning.  At least for the first month or so.  A good friend told me yesterday in response to my couch laziness, "You deserve it.  We have worked hard for our kids.  You can do whatever you want."

It is now time to relish in the peace and quiet, but I first have to figure out how to get that noisy, talk-to-himself, sing-to-himself, fart-and-burp-and-laugh-at himself, quirky husband of mine out of my space to do so.

Let it Snow, Let it Snow, Let it Snow

These holidays have been deadly for my waist band.  And the fact that the gym isn't calling my name as loudly as last Christmas.

But what I am thankful for is a good ol' workout shoveling the snow.  That has got to burn off at least a thousand calories, right?  Burn off that half bag of Tositos, right?  I don't know, but that's what I tell myself.

In addition to getting my big ol' booty off the couch, shoveling is a way to hang out with the boys outside.  I get to be the hero by pushing that white puff into big piles for them.  Then what is created it entirely up to them.  So far this year, we have had the simple sled hill and also the pile made into snowball forts, inspired by the watched-the-night-before movie of "Elf".  They just love that part where Buddy is a snowball-throwing machine, attacking the bullies and making them fall over!  That scene, and the burp for like 30 seconds scene.

So, enjoy the winter, the snow.  Enjoy the fishtails and the donuts.  Enjoy the bitterness of the chilly wind that takes your breath away.  Just be thankful you have breath, be thankful you can drive, be thankful you can see.  And I am thankful I can shovel.  Enjoy the snow, the winter.

Heart Breaker

My guy's heart is broken.

He has been pushed down and kicked, literally, by the lady in his life.

Grant likes the girls. He loves to chase them at recess, tease them in the classroom, and give them smiles galore.

It seems quite harmless, but I guess it has gone too far. This year when one girl, Jannie*, found out she had Grant in her class, she was like, "Oh no!" Grant loves to tease Jannie, mercilessly. I told her to just let him know if it was too much and ask him to stop. I kept telling myself that maybe the girls like being teased too.

Maren* was the new girl this year, chasing her and her best friend Haddie* outside. I made sure to keep reminding Grant not to take it too far, or the girls aren't going to like him back. "But Mom, they chase us too!" So, I didn't worry much about it.

Haddie then became Grant's new flavor of the month, most likely because she is in his own class and sat in the same group. I heard it from the teacher and aide at conferences when I asked if he was being a respectful classmate. "Grant loves Haddie. Always has to sit right next to her when she is reading and stuff. Not a problem though. Cute." And Grant told me one student always lets him cut in front of her if she is by Haddie.

These kids are so cute, I thought. And I even joked about it with Haddie's mother. Precious and sweet. Awww.

The tables have turned. "Grant, when did you get that cut on your leg?" Recess, last Friday. "Maren pushed me down and kicked me." "So did Haddie."

He was dead serious, somber, with sadness being read all over his face. "They said they don't like me, Mom."

"Sometimes girls just say that to tease you back, Grant. Maybe that's what they meant."

No, it wasn't what they meant. He knew that his heart had been broken. And mine as well.

I just didn't know what to say. I think I probably confused him more than I helped him. I told him she wasn't worth it if she was going to treat him that way. I told him to let those girls know they shouldn't be kicking and pushing, and to ask them why they did it. I told him to just play with the boys from now on. I told him to calm down on the girl-teasing. I told him maybe he ought to apologize to Haddie and Maren for teasing them so much. I asked him if he wanted me to call Haddie's mom.

I probably should have just given him a hug and told him it was going to be okay.

Wisdom is what I pray for. Maybe by the time my last child goes through it all, I will have it down. But I will just plod along trying my best, I guess. What would others do, I also thought?

I'm probably making a bigger deal out of it than need be. And I'm sure Grant was at fault in some way too. Two sides to the story, always.

This child is a wonderful boy. He is smart, outgoing, smiley, adventurous, among many other super traits. I pray as a mother I do not stifle his personality. If part of being who Grant is, in that he is a big teaser, then go for it. I just need to teach him and guide him in learning how to be a friend in other ways also.

Or maybe teasing and chasing girls at recess and hitting the one you "like" is just part of being a 3rd grader. Hmmm....


*names changed to protect the innocent (until proven guilty) (and when guilty, my baby's mama is coming to get you!)

Dear Blog,

Have you missed me? Let me start off by saying sorry, sorry I've neglected you. Really, by neglecting you, I have been neglecting me. It's only been brought to my attention lately that I haven't been visiting with you and sharing with you.

I know, you have heard rumors. I'm sorry I was lured over to the world of Facebook. I know, I said I wouldn't get sucked in. And, please know, I haven't given myself fully to FB. (That's "Facebook" in FB terminology.) If I had given myself fully, I would be updating my status every hour with trivial daily goings-on, like, "I just went poop," or "I'm leaving for carpool now." You get it, right?

Anyway, Blog, Facebook isn't the reason, so don't blame them.

What I share with you are things that make me smile in my life - something about the kids, some daily obscurity - or something I needed to get off my chest (something I could share with not only you, but also the whole world, without them becoming over analytical about my life). And it's been a rough year over here. I haven't seen those things that make me smile. I have had a hard time enjoying boys who are extremely naughty. I have had a hard time facing the day with no motivation. I have had a hard time without encouraging words in my life.

So, Blog, I haven't had any joy to share with you or any crazy, random thoughts because my joy is being squelched and my thoughts are dreary. I do not want to share those words with the world, knowing those words will be forever stamped into the wide world of the web.

Yet, one has to press on. You have to move forward slowly, even if it is one little inch at a time, or you are never going to get anywhere. And silly me, I know (and so does my therapist), that I find joy in writing. Thus, I will press on. I will start the day with an extra prayer, asking for joyous moments and the ability to see and acknowledging them. And then, Blog, I will share my life with you.

With Sincere Forgiveness and Remorse,

Amy
Author

Blahhh!

The Gibson family has arrived at the half-way mark in bringing this stomach virus full circle. Now, after knowing I will not die, I can reflect a bit and make light of the events of the past week. I would love to offer up some pieces of knowledge I have accumulated living with this ugly sickness that has grab hold of myself and Will and Grant.

1. Did you hear of the lose 10 pounds in 10 hours diet?

2. A mom hears the whimpers of pain and the moans of hurt of a child, but a dad can sleep through it all. Yet, when the mom experiences these same symptoms, the husband wakes up the next morning and exclaims his wife is "weird", has no sympathy for her, and makes fun of her for making those same noises as she suffered all night long.

3. Even though you think it might be better to have your brother drive because you are weak and are off-kilter, think again. (Maybe that's the real reason Grant puked in your truck. Hmmm.)

4. At 2:30 in the morning, 45 minutes between a child's pukes is just the right amount or time to fold 4 loads of laundry. Why go back to sleep anyway?

5. All my boys have comfortable beds.

6. If you don't know which end to put on the toilet, go with the rear one. Then, it frees your hands up to hold the bucket for the other end.

So, enjoy your sunshine. I'll keep you posted on the progress of this flu and any other new tidbits of junk I acquire. Enjoy!

Who's Clues? Blue's Clues!

As your days keep moving along, here at the Gibson house our days move along a bit more rapidly thanks to the little one named Gise. He, like his older brothers, is constantly moving. Yet, unlike his older brothers, he gets into more things than them.

His new thing is hand soap. After thinking he is just messing around with the water and toothbrushes in the bathroom, I will find him washing his hands. But Gise doesn't use just one squirt, he uses at least 20.

"Bubbles, Mommy?" he'll say as he shows me his creation in the sink.

"Rub," Gise proudly says as he imitates others.

Yet, yesterday was the best soap moment so far. As I was hanging out in some other room, I hear the Dad yelling at Gise. "No, no. No soap. No rub on wall!" And then I hear a hand smack or two followed by a big cry and "Mommy, Mommy." The father states, "Yeah, you go find your Mommy!!"

Wearily the baby (my 2 1/2 year old baby) Gise moseys over to me where he is met with a hug from a hugger who doesn't want to get soap all over her.

"Were you washing your hands?" I question. "Did you get it on the wall?"

Gise answers, "Paw print."

Melt my heart, my child - even though your Mom and Dad had to clean up all the suds on the walls - melt my heart.

Oh, Darn It!

Have you ever noticed they don't make socks like they used to? I don't remember mine becoming as hole-y as quickly from years past? Should we bring back "darning"? Do you even know what darning is?

And speaking of hosiery, I wore nylons, aka panty hose, the other Sunday for the first time in years. The outfit called for it, and luckily the only pair I own is black. Yet, the elastic waist was a little flimsy. (Must be all the weight I've lost. Ha!) Having a little fun running/simple jog up to the sidewalk of church with the little guys, I noticed these nylons had let go of my waist and were headed on down to about the hips. No big deal. Yet, a trip to the bathroom after dropping the boys off in Treasureland was needed after I realized they were most likely going to be shown falling down at the hem of my skirt shortly. The rest of the church service and trip home were most uneventful, but it was great to come home and rid myself of them. I was tempted to throw them away, but who knows when I might need another pair of black nylons again.

"Five what?"

Adam's teacher pulled me aside after I helped with Group Time yesterday. "I have to show you something," says Mrs. DeVries.

"Uh oh," I utter wearily. (I shutter when the teacher needs to talk to me. Or the school's name shows up on the Caller ID.)

She showed me this...

A standard paper the boys use to learn their numbers in Pre-K. I've seen them before.

"What do you think those are?" she asks, referring to the 5 brown objects Adam drew.

I was clueless. She said she was too when she asked Adam what they were.

"They're 5 wieners!!" Adam had happily proclaimed.

I wasn't shocked or surprised. And if it had been any other teacher besides Kristin DeVries, I most likely would have been a bit embarrassed. I just shook my head, knowing my son too well. Knowing that "poop" is his current favorite word or knowing that my boys have no qualms about their privates or knowing what is appropriate or inappropriate.

Actually, I found it quite amusing, not laugh out loud amusing, but smile-to-yourself amusing, feel-the-love-for-your-child amusing.

Oh, Adam, you make me smile. You are one of a kind!!

Trick or Treat, Smell My Feet

If any of you know me at all, you would know that I would not shell out $20 for a Halloween costume - for something you will wear for only 2 hours in one day! So, as I was glancing through my digital pictures, I was reminded of how my boys earned their way to become Clone Troopers.

In order to obtain the costume of the year, I told them they had to raise half of the cost of it. Our chore chart that rests on the frig lists, among many, household tasks in which to get some cash of their own -- dusting the upstairs bedrooms - $1, vacuuming - 10 cents per room, cleaning the powder room - 75 cents, sweeping and mopping the tile floor - $3. And the last item is change Gise' diaper - 50 cents pee-pee, $5 poopy. Never since the week before Halloween has this item been approached, as I have thought it would never be approached, just a joke in the midst of all the work.

Yet, Grant needed $4.50 more.

"Mom, I'll change Gise' poopy diaper," Grant said hesitantly.

I believe Gise was so dumbfounded that his brother was wiping his bootie, that he laid so still. He always gives his Momma a hard time, kicking, screaming and squirming.

Here's some pictures of my hard-working boys, Adam & Grant...

And Gise...

And Will...

Triple Bops

It has happened again. Tonight we had simultaneous triple dumps among the three older boys.

Will was the last one to announce his intentions. So, I steered him toward the remaining bathroom as I explained the others were occupied. He states he remembers the last time, and that it was "cool".

As a house full of girls most often get their cycle at the same time, is this what happens in a house full of boys?

(Please enjoy another toilet photo of one of my children. This is Adam, age 4, last Christmas.) (He'd be so embarrassed if he knew all that I was doing.)

Sun & Sand

"Let's go to the beach this summer, Auntie Liz," Grant asks.

"Good idea, Grant," Liz responds. "Let's do it."

Three months later...

"When does school start, Grant?" questions Liz.

"Next week Tuesday," responds the 7 year old.

"I guess we better go to the beach Monday then, seeing as we haven't gone yet this summer if we want to get it in before school starts," replies the Auntie.*

*(conversation is not exact words, please understand)

So, off to North Avenue Beach, as requested by Grant, for a day of beachy, beachy fun! Uncle Brandon, Uncle Bryan and Grandma Docter joined us in the outing. It was a bit chilly, but when the cloudless sky came upon us, we took off our shirts (Brandon) to enjoy the sun and soak it in. Grant and Adam loved the water, especially jumping and riding the huge waves that were formed that windy-ish day. Will was my sand man, as we dug big holes and made tunnels and built our own sand guy. Frisbees and footballs were flying as uncles were tackled.

What a way to end the summer! Enjoy the slide show.

Ahhh... The First Day of School

It started out as a wonderful, quiet morning. I was awake before everyone else, getting cinnamon rolls ready for the first day of school breakfast. It was commercial-like as I woke my children up. Grant says, "Ahhh... I smell cinnamon rolls." "This is an exciting day," exclaims Will as he is climbing down the bunk bed ladder. The children had arisen without a complaint of hating school or wanting to stay in bed. And sitting around the table wasn't a battle; it was expectant and joyful.

"Boys, we need to be in the car by 7:40," I state at 6:42am, thinking we have plenty of time this morning.

Things were going smoothly along until about 7:20. After quelling up with anxiety and impatience, I erupted. Mr. Grant tests me to no-end on school mornings. He is the biggest dilly-dallyer I know, besides Dave. And it drives me insane!!! I can't send him upstairs for anything because he gets lost in the process of it all and unloads his mind by playing Legos when he should be brushing his teeth. Then, I yell up to him again. "LET'S GOOO, GRAAANT!!!"

"Mom, why did you yell so loud?" questions Will. "BECAUSE I HAVE A SECOND-GRADER WHO CAN'T GET READY BY HIMSELF!!!" I scream.

At 7:35am, an accident happens by one child, right after they had just sat on the toilet for 5 minutes. Dave can't help me out, because he is wiping his own butt on another toilet. I make Grant cry as I pull his hair while combing it. And I get frustrated because my eldest is a sissy, crying all the time over the littlest things, like a little tangle in his sun-streaked locks.

It is now 7:46am, and they grab their shoes. "GET IN THE CAR!!" "WE'RE SO LATE!!" "AND IT'S ONLY THE FIRST DAY OF SCHOOL!!" "UGGHH!!"

"Ah, shit, we have to take a picture," I say, followed by my thought of "I hope they didn't hear me say shit. Maybe I can play it off as 'ah, ship.' "

"Don't make us take a picture in the front," Grant states, "The sun is in our eyes there."

"JUST GET OVER HERE NOW!!" I utter loudly to them, not wanting to wake any neighbors and bring attention to the crazy lady who loves in that house. "AND IF YOU DON'T SMILE, I WILL GIVE YOU A SPANKING!!"

Happy First Day of School, boys! Your mother sure made it joyous for you!

In conclusion, I have got to come up with a better morning plan. And pray for more patience. And have another apology ready for my new second-grader when he gets home.

Back-to-School Bash

The Gibson mother wanted to bring Grant's boy classmates together before the school year began. So, a messy party was planned. T-Shirts were spray painted. Jello balloons were tossed. Dirt pudding was eaten. Life Savers were sought after in whip cream pies. Mud was abundant in tug-a-war. Soapy water was splashed all around on the slip-n-slide racetrack. Silly string was discovered. And water fights were aplenty.

Boys need to be boys; they truly defined the word "boy" yesterday. They embraced it. They dove right in, figuratively and literally.

And I loved it. I loved watching them be their boyish selves. Running, jumping, getting disgusting. Having water fights, going crazy with the water balloons. Most of all, I relished their huge smiles and carefree spirits.

Over the past 3 school years, I am beginning to know these little guys better. And I have seen what special kids they are. They are most often filled with joy, seeing it in their smiles and bouncy demeanor. Grant is blessed to have such wonderful classmates. It's going to be fun watching them grow over the years.

"I've Got Bops!!!"

From the powder room, Adam states, "I've got bops!!!"

Grant proclaims from the master bathroom 10 seconds later, "I've got bops!!!"

And another, "I've got bops!!" is heard right after that from the upstairs bathroom from Will.

This is a phenomenon. How often have you ever had 3 of your children going Number 2 all at the same time?

Will says to me later, "Mom, what if we didn't have three bathrooms?"

Insightful.

(By the way, Grant, age 3, likes to peruse magazines just like his Daddy.)

Another One Bites the Dust

Storm Results August 4, 2008: A trampoline mangled after flying 3 lots over through 1 side of a new fence and resting upon the other.



And who could forget the results of an early morning Christmas present on December 23, 2007: Besides the side of our house being attacked and torn and scratched away, this trampoline was never to be jumped upon again.

Yet, it all started in June of 2003 at 12700 Goldenrod Place with the invention of the "trampo-kite". After taking off from the back corner of the yard, the maiden voyage of our first trampoline/trampo-kite ended up 100 yards away over our untouched fence onto our neighbors tree. We will have to work on that landing.

Some More Gratuitous Photos

Anyone else frustrated when they visit this blog and see it hasn't been updated? Yeah, me too! I don't have much to say, but at least when you come on over to our web "home", you will see some cute faces just for the fun of it! Thanks for sticking with me!

No-Sole Mates

Needing to return a pair of shoes given to Gise for his birthday, I called up the store Sunday night hoping a machine would give me their hours. Yes, Sole Mates, would be open at 10am Monday morning. I loaded 'em up at about 9:50 and arrived to find a closed store. We waited awhile. And we happened upon a sign stating their store hours. With the wonderful invention of Wite-Out, MONDAY'S HOURS WERE VANISHED!!

A call was place to the mis-informed machine. In short, I told them I was upset and how unprofessional it was that their hours were contradictory. And that I would not be shopping with them again. (There was another incident also awhile back.)

I got a voice mail later that day, apologizing for the mix-up. He also gave me the correct hours they are open.

Tuesday arrives, and our van is loaded up again at 10:00am. I get hopeful as I see a truck parked right next to the entrance. Hope went to the wayside as the lights were off and the Closed sign was once again on the flip side. UGGGHHH!!!

We left, after placing another message on a now-blank greeting from the establishment telling we were there and they weren't, we got Dunkin' Donuts next store. After paying for my Munchkins, I stormed into that parking lot and shoved the bag of shoes in their mailbox. I left another message telling them to call me for a credit on my credit card.

He called. He was rude. He wasn't apologetic. He gave excuses. He gave me my refund.

Would you do what I did? Was I right? Is it acceptable? Do most people usually blow these things off and get taken advantage of? Don't these businesses need to know when they are wrong and could be better?

I have had a similar experience with another local business a couple months ago also. I called and left a message about my disgust. I know both of these businesses are run by Christians too. It makes me less upset, but more saddened. I know we are human and make mistakes and sin, but to repeatedly be that way? And to treat me like crap on the phone?

Maybe they don't run their business the way I would if I had one. Don't you think they could open up the door on time though? Is that too much to ask when running a business? Whatever. I thought I would throw it out there for you all. I don't care about it anymore. I made my peace and spoke my mind. And I will not be going back to Sole Mates in Crown Point, Indiana again.

Date Night

I recently received the following e-mail from my mom, which she received from her friend.

"Good afternoon!

After trips to the beauty shop, hardware store, etc. we went out to the new house this afternoon. Later we stopped at Dairy Queen for a late (2 p.m.) lunch & saw the cutest couple out on a date. It was a May-Sept. kind of romance. The woman was quite a bit older than the "man", but they looked good together. I don't think it was their first date, but I have reason to believe that she is seeing a few others on the side. But she has her reasons, probably pretty good ones. From the giggles that were coming from that end of the room I would say they were having a really good time together and enjoyed each other's company. Amy & Adam were out on a mother/son date.

It was really sweet. They weren't there too long & may have had other activities prior to the DQ visit, but what we witnessed was just great. We saw them when we first arrived & when I asked where everyone was, she said that they were on a date. So we made sure to sit at the other end & did not speak again until they were leaving. Makes me miss all the fun times I shared with my son when he was little. Amy is doing a wonderful job building memories & cementing her relationships with her children."

I am only sharing her e-mail because of the adorable way she put it into prose and not to toot my own horn about what she said about me. But it does feel good that an outsider, or at least one who knows us and the family, can see my intentions in planning dates with my little men.

I stole "dating your children" from a few of my guy friends. You know, I have boys, why can't I date them? (For sure, they are going to need the practice for someday, or maybe never, for their mama's sake. Ha!) Dates for the Gibson duo is usually a trip to local somewhere for a little something. For example, an ice cream treat at Dairy Queen or a trip to Target for popcorn and pop. Yet, it isn't about the destination, it's about what happens there. With my boys, it is like pulling teeth to get them to express. They know how to talk and say all the goofy, crude boy phrases, just not the dig-down-deep words to have a conversation that doesn't have the words fart, butt or poopy in it. (I'm exaggerating a bit.) I usually bring along my little book "Ask Me" by Antje Damm to help me pry some things out of them. It is a wonderful book that asks simple, accompanied by rich and varied images that are designed to stimulate conversation. Questions like, "Which of your dreams do you remember?" and "What do you wish you could do really well?" are a few examples.

Getting to know my children deeper is not just about dating them, I know. Yet, it is a helpful way to get intentional, focused attention on just one child away from your home. I love seeing these boys in different lights individually. Having a big family like ours, it is easy to be clumped together, especially with two of them coming into this world already a duo. I cherish these little dates and my forever-little boys.

And speaking of dates... Grant had quite an extraordinary date with his mom today that I had to share because he had a blast. And he can't wait to tell everyone at school and show the picture we took. He even made me tell the drive-thru girl at McDonalds' where we went. "Blue Man Group" was the destination!! I want to instill the love of culture and the arts in these guys, because there is so much to offer out there. Grant loved the percussion sets and all the goofy moments these guys share. He was upset because there wasn't more "tubes" that beat on. He even had me pray for the opportunity tonight; so I know he must have loved it. And his mom loved it too!!

What to Do? What to Do?

I've pulled the summer programs book out to glance at for my boys. I don't want to get into too much trouble overscheduling, but it would be fun to do something different, something a mom can't offer.

We already signed up for the necessary swimming lessons, and a possible Vacation Bible School is always a good option. So, Adam wants to do karate and tumbling and Little One's day camp. Will wants to do gymnastics ("Maybe, Ally will be there!" Ally = special girl at preschool.) and golfing. Nothing in the book interests my oldest Grant.

No basketball or baseball skills camps. No arts camp. No karate. No nothing.

A little background on him - he takes after his father on being more mild and more timid than others. (Notice I didn't say "more wussy.") Grant likes to play tag, chase/tease the girls, and play on the equipment at recess, because playing football and basketball with some of the other boys is "too rough," and, "Someone might kick me." Also, Grant gets hit by a ball at least once at every one of his baseball games and, bless his heart, he cries most every time.

So, after offering up Tennis Lessons from the St. John summer program book to my sweet child, he questions, "Is the ball hard?"