It Can’t Be!

It’s game time, People! We had our first official high school soccer game of the season and I had to blink twice at introductions. Is that...? Number 27? Number 36, of course. I fully expected Evan in the starting line up. But 27? What number is Keagan wearing tonight? It can’t be, but it is! That’s both of my boys in the starting line up! 

Some coaches get it. Freshmen can play varsity and play a full game and be one of the best on the field! 

We lost 0-2, both goals were set pieces, and neither could be attributed to my players. I Can Not Wait to See This! 

Service

The high school the boys attend offers a service pin to wear upon graduation if an allotted number of service hours has been accumulated. Evan has met his minimum for this semester, but he continues to get up early on Saturday mornings to serve breakfast to the needy. This week Keagan joined him. 

We give praise to teens and children when they make the honor roll, when they win state titles as the star athlete, or when they win awards for being the most popular kid in the class. Why don’t we praise kids for community service and helping the less fortunate? This has a far reaching impact on society and our community, and yet so little of it is recognized or acknowledged. 

On our way home this morning, Keagan said, “My day started at 6:30am and ended at 11:30am. I’m livin’ the best day!”

Funny

Evan says to me, “Mom, the funniest thing that has happened in a while happened last night. Keagan asked me to get his phone so I could look at his fantasy team. As soon as I put in his passcode, I see his chat screen, and all of the open conversations were with girls. Guess how many girls he was talking to at the same time? Eight! I said something to him about it, and he just laughed. That kid. He loves the chase.”

Not sure if I should be proud or concerned. 😝

Catchin' Up

When one boy plays a tourney out of town and the other boy remains behind, the late Sunday afternoons reunions are the best! They laugh, tell jokes, recap the weekend highlights, and then this. 

Sunday night they were up until 11:00 doing this! 

Best of friends. Family. Brothers.

Happy Halloween

I was just lamenting to a friend last night that neither of my boys expressed any desire to go trick-or-treating this year. They claimed to be too old for such childish antics. Then today, between soccer games, Keagan asked to run by Party City "to just look for a mask to scare kids at our door." After game two, he decided maybe he could hit one street in the neighborhood "since it's not raining or anything." Within ten minutes of arriving home from soccer, he was ready. 

So maybe he was just a little excited about trick-or-treating after all. 

Evan was kicked back on the couch with his dried mango and root beer content to watch college football for the night when the doorbell rang. All of a sudden, trick-or-treating was a better plan. 

He said to me, "I think I'll go out since I have a jersey, too."

This means I'm curled up on the couch all by myself content to know my boys are still little boys. For at least the day, anyway. 

Score!

Look what arrived in the mail yesterday!

Even better! Look at Keagan's expression when he saw Evan holding the package!

 I can't tell you how many of the neighbor kids have said, "Oh my gosh! You have Snackeez? Lucky!" I guess my kids aren't the only ones who think a cup within a cup can revolutionize their lives.

He Said It

Keagan: "Mom, I read a book today at school. Can you add it to my reading log?"

Me: "Oh, yeah? What was it?

Keagan: "Pissed."

Me: "What was that?"

Keagan: "Pissed! Like when you have a secret to say."

As it turns out, Keagan had selected the book "PSSTT!!" For the record, he was pissed when I had to ask a third time the name of the book.




Me: "Evan, we all know what Keagan wants to drive when he's 16. What do you want to drive?"

Evan: "I don't really care what I drive as long it gets me home from football practice."

Half an hour later Evan comes back to me and says, "You know that whole car thing. Well, I do care a little bit. I'll drive anything but a Ford Prius. Because it's so small I think it would really hurt my knees to have to sit in that thing."



What two conversations could summarize my boys and their personalities any better than that?

One of These Days

Basketball Week #5 may have brought new competition, but the same bleacher comments were made that have been made almost every other week.

1. What do you feed that boy? He's a big 'un.

One of these days I am going to have a really good come back. Today I just smiled and said, "Well, yesterday he ate a three pound bag of cutie oranges for his afternoon snack."

Evan's team won again today, even without two of the starters, 21-13. Evan got a three pointer, and I was the only one who seemed to notice.


2. Where did that little 'un learn to play basketball?

One of these days I am going to be bold enough to lie and say, "Those mad skills came from his mama. I can ball like no other."

Keagan's team won again today 14-11; this makes a two game winning streak. Keagan had an awesome pick that allowed another student to score. It just so happens that he and Coach discussed it at halftime and Keagan was able to incorporate it like he had been doing it all season.

We're on break until January. You will be able to find the boys in the driveway with the hoop, though, practicing those 3s and setting up picks.

Science Class

Tropical Storm Andrea is headed towards us and has brought us already two days of rain. Our back yard is flooded; our cul-de-sac is a pond. We have been stuck inside, wishing we were some place else, or at the very least, doing something a little more productive than watching the rain fall. I remembered the science kits the boys received as Christmas gifts and suggested we curb our boredom with an experiment or two. So instead of watching the rain fall, Evan made goo.

He carefully mixed the water and goo powder. He shook it vigorously and complained that the directions needed to be more specific. I'm not sure how "shake vigorously for five minutes" needed more explanation.

After careful examination, it was time to watch the goo defy gravity and climb the test tube. I suppose we did something wrong at the shake vigorously step because we had nothing climb our test tube. There was some big disappointment and some broken goo dreams for this guy.

After his pathetic screams of "This is CRAP, Mom!" and his storming through the house mad as a hornet, I realized he had thrown the goo down the drain. This done when the very next line in the directions says, "When done playing with the goo, place excess in a trash can. Pouring goo down the drain can cause major plumbing problems."

Then it was my turn for pathetic screams and storming through the house.

I found my way to Keagan's room when I realized he had been a little too quiet for at least half an hour. I found him sitting in the middle of the carpet with his own science kit.  He had citric acid, corn starch, and water lined up in front of him. Packages ripped open. White powder all over his red shirt, which inevitably meant white powder was also all over the carpet. It was the horror of finding red cabbage powder poured all over the carpet with about two flakes having actually made it into a test tube, though, that sent me over the edge.

Science class has been canceled. The boys are now outside, playing basketball in the pond while the tropical storm barrels right over us.

Another Last

Another last...This weekend was the last soccer tournament wearing the blue Storm jersey.

It's really hard walking away from something that you have invested so much time and energy, but after our last game on Sunday, the boys didn't look back. They have become pros at this month of lasts. They are anxiously awaiting bigger and better things in Tennessee. Namely, winning.

Turn Right at the Strip Club

Strip clubs and pawn shops. You are guaranteed to find them outside the gates of every military installation. Stewart has more than its fair share of both. The road we take between soccer practice and our house has a strip club, and at night, the fluorescent lighting has the club lit up like a Christmas tree. The boys never fail to see it. The sign in the parking lot contains a permanent want ad for "beautiful dancers" and has a logo complete with pole dancers. Bright lights. Metal building. Pole dancers. It's classy. Just like all of the others.

Last night we were on our way home, and Keagan, excited that the 75 minute drive back home from soccer practice was almost over, exclaimed, "We're almost home, Evan. I know because we are at the gymnastics place."

Evan replied in his all-knowing, grown-up voice, "That's not a gymnastics training center, Keagan. That's a dance school."

There was a brief pause and then Evan commented, "I have no idea why you have to be beautiful to learn to dance, though."

I giggled and Keagan wanted to know why I always laugh at his mention of gymnasts. Luckily a high speed cop chase ensued in the opposite lane and the beautiful pole dancers were forgotten.

Unit next time, anyway.

Boys Will be Boys

Yesterday Evan and our neighbor Z walked over to the neighborhood lake, which is a nice way of saying the drainage pond, to skip rocks. The boys were enjoying the sun and some time talking about boy things, namely the powers of various Skylanders, when Z picked up a rock to throw in the water. When he attempted to pick up another, Evan quickly told him to stop. Z was inches away from picking up a snake, and it wasn't just any snake. It was a rattle snake.

But it gets better.

The boys bent down to get a closer look at a real, live rattle snake - to see if the rattle would really shake - and to count the rings on the rattle. Really? Who does that? Thankfully, the temperature hadn't been warm enough to transiiton it out of hibernation yet.

Evan yelled, "It's a rattle snake!" Z yelled, "Cool, I've never seen one before...except that one Maybelle dragged up in the yard last fall! It was already dead so that doesn't count." The conversation continued when an adult across the street asked, "Do you boys see a snake?" Thank God the neighbor drew the boys' attention away from the danger because the boys were so enthralled with the creature, it never occurred to them to back away.

The snake was eventually killed and the boys were sent home safely with a story to tell. Boys might be boys, but next time my boy better be a whole lot smarter. So many reasons to be thankful today.

Love, Love, Love

Be still my heart.

Nate and His Evil Twin Brother

Keagan was chosen to represent his class in a young author's writing competition with his story of Nate and His Evil Twin Brother. He read it out loud to Evan and me on the way home today, and before I could get a word out, Evan said, "Wow, Keagan, you have a well developed plot with a conflict and resolution. Most kids can't do that at your age. However, you might want to rethink your climax." Believe it or not, that is as close to a compliment that big brother can bestow on little brother. The intention to compliment was there - muddled with the unsolicited suggestion.

Which meant I had to ask Evan about his winning story. As it turns out someone else wrote a "ten page novel" that pretty much secured the win would go to someone other than Evan, but it might have had something to do with his story about moving to Georgia and learning to talk funny like the locals. I take it the "locals" didn't find that too funny.

Copy That!

When Wes was home this weekend, he took the boys to Wal-Mart to buy science fair materials. They came home with the necessary supplies and a pair of walkie talkies. It all seemed like lots of fun until we learned the neighborhood kids also have walkie talkies. Can I say neighborhood fun overload? They have long distance capabilities and do not recognize brick wall barriers. Walkie Talkie technology has obviously made some technological advances in the last few years.

The boys have begun clearing a path in the wood line that leads them to an open field where a small family of deer live. Lately, they have ventured through the thickets to watch the deer and leave apple cores. You might remember that we seem to have a plethora in our house.  On Monday I suggested they take one WT with them and leave one with me. For safety reasons of course. It has nothing to do with the fascination I have with code names and trucker language.
This is an excerpt from Monday's adventure:

10-4, M-to-the-Mom, do you read me?

Loud and clear, Lightning. Be careful in the woods. Over!

We will. We are trying to follow the deer tracks into the clearing. Over.

Be careful. Tell Thunder to watch his step.

Wait! What do you think this is, Mom? It looks like a nest under this tree limb. What do you think is hibernating in here?

Snakes! Stay away, Keagan. I mean it! Stay away!

Some time passes.

Emergency! Emergency! Mom, do you read me? We are in danger! We are being chased!!

Keagan, what is chasing you?

SNAKES, Mom! BIG BLACK SNAKES!

Interestingly enough the snakes stopped their chase just as the house came into view and the tree line cleared into our backyard. Be sure M-to-the Mom was ready for battle...with a walkie-talkie and a shoe.

I think it's safe to say that the boys know what a snake den looks like.

Over.

Desperate Times Call for Desperate Matters

"Look, Evan! Look what Mom did. Don't you think that's a good idea? Did you see? She has that smell good stuff from the dryer in the shoes! She's the smartest mom ever!"

After fixing the remote controlled Air Hog last week, the smell-good-shoes move confirms the boys' belief that I can solve any problem, that I am Superwoman! 

Who am I to argue? Besides, I am desperate to rid my house and car of the smell of sweaty cleats.

Basketball Woes

Four games this week. Four losses. Lots of tears. This time it was the boys and not me. I have given up on believing we can win so I surprisingly sit quietly and watch the game like any normal parent. I still fail to find the humor, though, in eight year olds who shoot on the wrong goal or walk with the ball down the court. The other parents laugh and say, "Oh, Lordy Be! How cute is that?" I swear under my breath and put my head between my legs so that I don't hyperventilate.

I will try to concentrate on the positive, though. Evan had six three pointers this week, and he scored 16 of his team's 18 points in Wednesday night's game. He did not foul out, or if he did, the score keeper took pity on us since we were losing by 20 points.

Keagan scored six points in Tuesday's game, and he scored all five points in Thursday night's game. I was asked by another parent in the stands how many basketball camps the boys had attended, and I said none. She then asked who taught them how to play basketball, and before I could give an honest answer, Keagan piped in, "My mom was a star basketball player and played for the A team when she was in school." The other mom looked at me with doubt written all over her face, and when I saw the that-can't-be-so look on her face, I ran with the story. Never mind I played for my junior high team, spent some time on the bench because I wasn't fast enough, and won only one game the entire season. I WAS THE STAR, according to Keagan anyway.

Art Fair

My kids can do a lot of things and do them well, but art is not one of them. Much like their mama, a stick figure with eyes and a mouth is about all they can handle. I decided to attend tonight's art fair, though, to show my support to the school and the teachers. I had no intention of buying my own sons' art work. At $34 per framed work, I really thought it was highway robbery.

We found the first grade aisle, and we found Keagan's blue cat. Every first grader drew a blue cat, but Keagan's was the only cat drawn on the upper 1/3 of the paper and the only cat sitting in a field of grass with the sun brushing the tip of  his whiskers.

I took my obligatory picture, told him how beautiful it was, and hung his art work back on the rack. Keagan asked, "Mom, what are you doing? You are supposed to go buy it now." One look at his little face, and there was no way I could say no...not even to a blue cat drawn on only 1/3 of the paper.

Then it was time to walk to the third grade aisle. Every third grader used water colors to paint the ocean, and they each created origami sailboats to place in the ocean.

Evan had an orange sky when everyone else had a red/orange sky, and he had a small tear in the paper that became a representation of lightning. No one else had lightning in their pictures.


What could I do? Leaving behind Sun Kissed Cat and Lightning Strikes the Ocean was not an option. We headed out the door minus $64 but with two perfect pieces of art work created by the most talented artists I know.

He Is Risen

Dear Mom and Dad,

Thank you for sending the boys Amazon gift cards for Easter. As soon as we got the codes applied to their Amazon accounts, both boys began shopping for apps, books, and music. Keagan bought an Easter egg hunt app and an UNO app. If he isn't hunting for Easter eggs, then he is playing card games on his Kindle. He also found a book on dogs that he bought and read in all of 15 minutes. We're all about non-fiction animal books; there can't possibly be any we haven't read in the school library.

Evan bought book three in the Sweet Farts series. After two books, it is somehow still funny. And he found a new series from the same author that he decided he had to have since reading about farts has proven to be so entertaining. But, by far, the best purchase was the $3.99 app for MONOPOLY. Evan has played for three days against unknown opponents, and I haven't had to move my little silver shoe along the game board all week. In fact, he is so taken by the app, he decided on Wednesday that I could pack up the marathon game that has been sitting on the leather ottomans for the past 15 days. For this, I will be eternally grateful!

Happy Easter! He is risen!

And my living room is now free of paper money!

He is risen indeed!

Baby Boy No More

We made it! The weather is perfect. The beach is beautiful. However, sometimes you must be taken out of your own environment to a new place to really "see" something.

At the resort we are surrounded by families, most are families with tweens and teens. As I sat on my lounge chair today, lulled to near sleep by the sound of the waves, I see this boy run towards me, and I say to myself, "One day my own boys will be this big." Slightly relieved I still had some time before I reached that half grown stage, I was shocked to find it was my own child now standing in front of me.

The signs have been there all along. He no longer orders from the kids' menu. I had to buy him an entire new set of school uniforms a week ago. This week I am buying a new set of summer shorts and t-shirts. Last night, I bought him a baseball cap to keep the sun out of his eyes, and we had to go to the men's section to find one that fit.

Lucky for me, though, he still finds it fun to cover his little brother in mud, and he still finds it just as much fun to have his brother reciprocate.

And lucky for me, I have one little guy who is still pleased as punch to be my baby boy.