He's Not Ready for an Allowance

Evan wants an allowance. I have agreed to $5 a week if he can complete two chores during the week: make his bed daily and take out the trash on trash days.

It's pretty simple, right?

Day #1: Saturday - He didn't make his bed.
It's the first day of the deal. I ignore the mistake to see how long it takes before he remembers he wants an allowance.

Day #2: Sunday - Again, he didn't make his bed.
This is said in the car on the way to church.
"Oh, you mean I have to do chores on the weekend, too? Mom, that was never discussed. I think I should have the weekends off."

Day #3: Monday - He made my bed (to make up for Saturday), and he made his own bed. He checked the trashcan to see if it was full enough to take outside. He's determined to correct the wrong so he can get the money to buy Squinkies. I have no idea what these are, but the product has been located on the web and the webpage has been conveniently saved to my favorites. I think this is a hint.

Day #4: Tuesday - He made my bed but not his own.
He says I pushed him out the door before he could get to it. Ohhhh, but you had enough time to play a quick game of basketball and check the highlights on Sports Center?

Day #5: Wednesday - He put the trash can on the curb, but he didn't put the trash bags in the can. He didn't make his bed.
He wants to know when I am ordering the Squinkies.

Day #6: Thursday - He says, "I have an idea, Mom. Just pay me for the good grades I get. Not every mom has a son that is the top AR points earner AND gets straight As all the time."

I have a son who still expects to get a crisp $5 bill on Friday afternoon. His world will crumble when I refuse to pay him and his dream of a new Squinkie collection are put to rest. You will hear his cries of protest all the way in Texas. I am sure of it. He will say I am unfair. He will say I lied to him.

I will tell him he's smart, he keeps straight As all the time; he didn't keep his end of the deal. What's not to understand?

Showing 'Em How It's Done

It all made sense today.

 I now know why Keagan has been spending so much of his free time listening to music and practicing his dance moves. Today was the Just Dance AR party for the students who met their reading goals for the second quarter. Keagan currently has the most points of any first grader, and as the point leader, he got to choose the first song.

After school, I asked how it went, and he said, "Don't worry, Mom. I showed 'em how it's done."

Everything's Bigger in Texas...Even Fat Lips

Oh, happy day! As of today, I have Texas plates on the car driven everywhere but Texas. It has been a long fourteen years since I have been able to wear the plate of home.

The boys are proud Texans, too, even if they have never lived in the Great State. However, this picture was actually just a ploy to get Keagan in front of the camera. His big fat lip is not your imagination. He jacked up his face last night when he was playing on the perimeter of the tub, slipped on the wet surface, and hit his face on the toilet lid. There was blood, yells, blood, chipped teeth, and cries before I finally got out of him what happened. Today, too embarrassed to say that he fell and hit his lip on the toilet, he went to school and told his friends that Evan beat him up. After school, a group of first graders came to Keagan's defense, and while encircling Evan like soldiers about to launch a major attack, demanded to know why Evan would he do such a thing. Evan played it cool. He knew how nervous Keagan was about the kids learning the truth. His reply, "That's what brothers do. Now who wants to play some football?"

Keagan's secret is safe...for now.

And I have Texas plates.

Come On, Man!

This is what I overheard the boys talking about on the way home today.

She is such a diva; all the girls crowd around her in the gym. I don't get it either because she is so annoying. Did you see that powder she had on her face? She had white powder all over her face and red stuff on her cheeks. It looked really bad, but all the girls thought she was so cool.

I interrupted. Wait!!! You mean to say a first grade girl was wearing make up today at school?

Evan: Oh, Mom! That's nothing. There was a kindergartner wearing masquerade and eye lighter yesterday. 

Keagan's Media Festival Project

Every year the kids at the local elementary school complete media festival projects. Last year Evan's project (his web page on "The States of Matter" created within a small group) made it to the national level and earned the award "recognized." This was quite the honor. Keagan's project on "I Like Sports" made it to the district level and then didn't score high enough to advance to state. This weekend he completed the project he plans to submit to this year's festival. He is so hoping for a trophy this year!

Miracle Makers and Disappointment

It's a holiday weekend and we were up at o'dark thirty preparing for a day at the gym. Evan's team picked up a new player this week, and when I saw this kid on the court Monday, I thought we had reached basketball heaven. This kid has been blessed with some awesome basketball skills, and since our team seriously lacks real talent, I just knew he was our answer to scoring out of the single digits. And I dare say, I thought we might have a chance to win, too. Our miracle player played well, but it wasn't enough to overcome the Jazz. The Jazz coach arrives to the games with a clipboard, a marker board, and colored markers. He has a play book. Our coach had the wrong game time, and according to Evan, has only one play in his play book. It's called suicides. However out-matched we might have been, Evan had two three point shots and scored a total of eight points. 

Keagan's team lost by one point in the last 20 seconds of the game. Eight hours later it is still too painful for me to discuss. After the game, he walked right past the mom holding the snack bags, skipping his thrice daily carb high, and headed straight  for the car. That's when I knew he saw the injustice of the last minute loss as I did, and I would have to be the adult and help him calmly walk through his anger and disappointment. 

Then I saw these shots on my camera, and who could remain so sad? He scored, he played his heart out, and he had parents we didn't even know congratulating him with a job well done. 

We will do it all over again next Saturday.

Play by Play Action

Last week I found Evan awake in his bed at ten o'clock. On top of his bed were stacks of notebooks, printer paper, colored pencils and erasers. I asked what he was he doing so late at night, and he said, "I gotta get these football plays on paper, Mama. If I don't, I might not remember them tomorrow and then I won't be able to win."

He is the next Jimmy Johnson, and by JJ, I mean the legendary Cowboys coach, not the NASCAR driver.

This morning the boys were outside playing football. Keagan was the "coach" and Evan was the "team." (Don't even begin to question how Evan can pass, receive, and  tackle when he is playing the role of eleven players because in his mind he does it all.) Evan handed Keagan a stack of papers, and said, "Here are the papers you will need to throw down on the ground and stomp on when the team messes up. All good coaches do that when they get mad."

A few minutes later I hear Keagan grabbing a drink in the kitchen, and I ask him how the game is going. He says, "They are playing like crap today, Mom!" Intrigued, I asked why. He says, "Well we are pretending we are the Dolphins today, and they always play bad."