PPK

Here we go. The weekends overtaken by sporting events began today. The boys participated in the local Punt, Pass, Kick competition on post. Keagan told me all week that he refused to participate, but I signed him up anyway. He won third place.

Evan, has of course, looked forward to today's event all week. With coverage of NFL training camps on ESPN beginning this week, he has been consumed with the preseason schedule, the Cowboys' decision to switch to a new defense, and the health of all the current QBs. As he lounged on the couch this week watching Sports Nation, he mumbled something about dream job and no one can memorize useless football stats like I can. The boy loves him some football.

He won first place and advances to sectionals.

Let the backyard training begin!

The Touched Artist

We spent the night at the local art museum and botanic gardens listening to live music and walking around the grounds of an old plantation. We passed the mint plants, and Keagan asked, "Dad, is that what you had to chew on when you were a kid to clean your teeth? You know since there wasn't any toothpaste then?"

The boys weren't too impressed with the cello player or the woodwind trio. Keagan said, "We're in Nashville. Where's the country music?" And just around the corner we found them: a banjo player and a guitarist playing Turkey in the Straw. Keagan clapped to the beat and enjoyed the music as much as the over-fifty crowd that had gathered to hear the next Merle Travis piece. 

And then the sun set and we got to finally see what we had anticipated all afternoon: the outdoor light display. We fought the crowds, the slow walking elderly, and and the non-English speaking tour bus to see the art work in the forms of LED lights. 

 Beautiful. Interesting. Unique.

I was so proud to be able to expose the boys to something beyond splash parks and another game of Family Feud. On our way out of the park, Evan said, "The lights were great and I liked how they changed colors, but I think the artist must be touched because I don't see how any of these lights are supposed to look like sea urchins or lightning bugs."

He Said It

Evan wore a new shirt yesterday. It left tiny pieces of red cotton under his arms. I told him to make sure he washed under his arms when in the shower, and Keagan asked, "Did you get that because you used too much shampoo?" Evan replied, "No, Keagan. Who uses shampoo under their arms?" Keagan's reponse, "Well, I do. Sometimes I use conditioner, too. I like to be fresh." 

We spent a good hour last night playing Apples to Apples. Keagan threw out cards that were totally ridiculous and had us all laughing hysterically. Keagan said, "If I don't make it in the NBA, then I think I will have my own talk show. It will be called, 'The Keagan.'"

We spent all day yesterday registering for school, the YMCA, and child care on post. I think I wrote my cell phone number down no fewer than a dozen times and at one point I got so sick of having to include three emergency contacts when I have lived in this new town for only three weeks and know no one, I mean no one, that I finally just began making up peoples' names and phone numbers. We got to the second stop, and the boys were embarrassing me with under-their-breath chuckles. I was getting so frustrated and finally when we were alone I asked what was so funny. Evan replied, "Keagan saw you wrote 'M' next to sex on the forms and he asked me, 'Why does Mom say I have medium sex?' 

God love him. 

Music City

You can't be this close to Nashville and not do the country music thing. We ventured to the city last night, through heavy downpours and a lightning storm, and did the live, country music scene. Keagan was so excited to be at the Grand Ole Opry that his little hand squeezed mine all the way to our seat. He was completely taken with the idea of hearing someone famous perform.

He wasn't nearly as excited to hear the songs performed by the elderly with the hits from the 1950s, and truth be told, I wasn't either.There's just something about an old man singing a wistful song about being famous again that's just terribly depressing.

Keagan didn't hear anyone he recognized from the radio, but he decided a couple of performances were good enough that they should be on the radio. We agreed our favorites were Jimmy Wayne and the Texas duo, Sons of Fathers.

Can't wait to do it again real soon - old guys, heavy rain, and all.

Boyhood to Teenhood

I continue to lament the fact that my boys are growing up and growing up too fast. Here are reasons number 54-57 that make me realize my older son is leaving boyhood.

1. We left the house today to obtain our annual sport physicals and he remembered to wear underwear. Better yet, I didn't have to give any reminders like "Brush your hair, wear a clean shirt and don't forget your underwear."

2. The nurse measured his height at 5'1''. What ten year old is over five feet tall? He ranked in the 99th percentile, so I guess I am correct in assuming that few others create Amazon children. He was super excited to carry this stat and immediately told Wes, "Dad, I'm so tall that if you took all the fifth graders in the United State and lined them up, only one of those kids would be taller than me."

3. We went out to eat tonight and he walked down the stairs in a season appropriate outfit that actually matched! Miracles never cease. If you only knew what he came out of his room wearing last Sunday before church, you would celebrate with me.

As much as I want to celebrate his successes, I would love to relive one of those days with my sweet baby boy leaving the house going commando and wearing mismatched clothes.

Ahh, who I am kidding? That will probably be tomorrow!

Summer Time Excitement

While trying not to think of school and the end of summer, the boys and I have spent long days watching Family Feud (I can't even explain their fascination with this game) and making an assortment of recipes that friends have posted on Facebook. I made paella that was to die for, bean dip that was cheesy good, peanut butter bars that added five pounds to each of us, and tomorrow we are having breakfast cupcakes. We have also learned, after surveying 100 people, the top six talk show hosts that would monopolize a conversation at a dinner party.

While trying not to think of school and the end of summer, the boys and I took Maybelle to the vet for her annual vaccinations that were thirteen months past due. While there, we decided it might be a good idea to ask the vet if he could do anything with her eye that has been swollen shut for the last week and a half. We learned we have a stressed out cat and that once she becomes unstressed, her eye will open again. And so now we must walk on tip toe within our own house so that we decrease the level of anxiety experienced with the cat. Somehow, I think Keagan's attempt to make Maybelle a Power Ranger might have exacerbated her condition. At this rate, she will be a one eyed cat for at least another week.

While trying not to think of school and the end of summer, the boys have been training for a triathalon. I took the boys hiking one day this week and I got smoked. We had been on the trail for about ten minutes and I was breathing hard climbing up the side of the cave, and Evan looked at me in all seriousness and said, "How can you already be tired?" I have resolved to never hike with him again. In all honesty, I have perhaps spent one too many hours watching TV with the boys. Earlier this summer Evan found the Maury Povich talk show, and when I kindly suggested that the boys find something else to watch, Evan said, "This is so white trash, but I just can't not watch. These people are 'complete train wrecks.' "

We have one more week of summer! It proves to be just as exciting.

Job, Sweet, Job Number 7

In the last fifteen years, I have held more jobs that most people do in a lifetime. I had almost decided that not working for a year or two might be a good thing. I talked myself into living and loving the typical officer wife life: lunch dates with friends, going to the gym with a workout partner, cooking great meals every single night, and attending a weekly Bible Study.

Praise the Lord! This arrived in my inbox today.

Ms. XXXX,

Congratulations, you have been selected for FLES Teacher position at XXX-XXXX Schools!  

Please review the job offer letter, sign, and return to me annotating your acceptance/declination. You can return this by either scanning in the email or fax.  

If you have any questions, please contact me by email or at the phone number provided in the job offer letter.



I will be teaching Spanish to elementary aged students. Can I tell you that teaching kinder and first graders scares the BeJeezus out of me? I don't even know where to begin. I've decided I just can't think about it too much or it stresses me out. I find it much more comforting knowing that I can now purchase a new washing machine and not feel guilty. Who needs lunch dates and work out partners when you can have clean clothes?