Memorial Day Memories A.K.A. The Post That Never Ends

It was one of those days when we just wanted to try something new. So, we headed over to Funkytown for the day. We kicked the day off by first bailing Tyler and Brian out of jail.

I told them their decision to hide the Oreos from Mommy would catch up to them.

We then waited to watch the morning herding of the cattle in The Stockyards. While we waited, the boys enjoyed the chance to pet a nice horse.

And Brian enjoyed the chance to make a joke of this picture.

Rumor is that Bone Thugs is reuniting. Maybe they'll come up with more classics like Ghetto Cowboy. Until then, I think one of them found a gig herding cattle in Fort Worth twice a day.

After the thrilling show of cattle being herded, we moseyed on over to Trail Boss Burgers for some cowboy grub. Because Brian saw a sign for catfish and nothing says "Old West" like all you can eat catfish.

Here's us snapping some pics while we waited for our food. This is me trying to get T to sit still long enough for a pic.This is Brian with the boys. This is Brian setting the example for how to behave at a restaurant. Thanks, Brian.

Apparently, we were having so much fun, we noticed this little guy try to join us.

See the little Hispanic/non quarter Asian boy squeezing in next to Noah? Noah didn't seem to mind his company, though.

After lunch, Tyler felt the need for speed.

And then we headed over to Burgers Lake. It's a one acre, spring fed lake with a couple of sandy beaches, a trapeze, some slides and diving boards. And, what better way to spend a muggy day than in the water?
But, dang, that was COLD water!

The boys had fun on the kids' size diving boards and slide. Really, just the chance to get soaked and splash around was good enough for them. But, then, Noah discovered the tether ball station and the following collection of photos should give some indication of how much time he spent there, given the fact that he and the ball are the only constants in each photo.

I love how the adults in the first pic didn't seem to care that a little kid was trying to play with them. However, I don't think the little kid in the pic seemed to notice his size disadvantage either.

While Noah tether balled, T found other ways to entertain himself. First, he decided pouring sand into a bucket was really awesome.

Then, he decided to start a collection of "lion food" (rocks). We love his imagination.

And, aside from braving a really tall slide and watching our kids play, Brian and I made a sport of tattoo spotting.Nothing against tattoos, but the last time I saw that many tats in one place, was watching this team a few weeks ago...

It seems to be a Denver Nugget prerequisite, as this guy has them, too, and he used to play there. Anyway, we decided if we keep going to crowded places, it might not be a bad idea to get our last name tattooed across our backs. In Goth letters, of course. It would be an easy way to match all of us up.

Burgers Lake is a neat little hole in the wall place tucked into an old neighborhood and, were it not for the internet, we would've never discovered it. It's one of those places that looks like it's been there for decades. It's not as decked out as the large water parks, but it has its own charm. Including when they came on the P.A. and asked that everyone stop to mark a minute of silence in honor of those who have given their life for our country. And everyone actually did.

We ended the perfect day with some Double Dave's pepperoni rolls and some aloe lotion.

The End.

Put Me In Coach, I'm Ready to Play (Clap, Clap, etc.)

Noah's wrapped up his first season of an organized sport, T-Ball. I confess I would've chosen another sport for his first experience if Coach Barton hadn't asked Noah to play. Is it un-American that America's Favorite Pastime is one of my least favorite sports? Something about it being nine innings and involving a lot of standing around. Still, there's something pretty special about watching your child on the field and seeing his enthusiasm at getting to bat or chase after the ball. Also, I think the fact that it was limited to two or three innings helped. A lot.

Hello, MLB, are you paying attention? Potential female fan for life if you change that nine inning rule.

We are SOOO proud of you, Noah, and had so much fun watching you suit up every game and strut your stuff in your cap and knee highs (they have a manlier name for those socks, I'm sure). You are so proud of your uniform, we went to wake you from your pre-game nap one day and discovered this...Not much of an intimidating game face, but that's dedication for sure.

He's got two rainout make up games left, but it looks like we'll be celebrating my cousin's wedding in Colorado next week. So, here's a little wrap up of Noah's season as a KC Royal. (Incidentally, Brian's hoping he gets traded to the Cubs next year. That should surprise exactly no one.)

Y'all feel like some John Fogerty to guide you through some pics?

Well, beat the drum and hold the phone - the sun came out today! (Right after it poured at the start of the game. We also ignored the lightning storm over Frisco, but chancing the potential lightning strikes seemed a little more desireable than telling a bunch of fired up four and five year olds to pack up their bats and head home).

See what I mean? They're intimidating. Especially the one waving to the camera and the one holding a bag of animal crackers in his teeth.

We're born again, there's new grass on the field. (So we can pick at it and kick our feet at it while some kid's at bat across the field).

A-roundin' third, and headed for home, it's a brown-eyed handsome man; (Our Noah Jack!)

Anyone can understand the way I feel.

Oh, put me in, Coach - I'm ready to play today;
Put me in, Coach - I'm ready to play today;
Look at me, I can be Centerfield.

Got a beat-up glove, a homemade bat, and brand-new pair of shoes;

You know I think it's time to give this game a ride.

Just to hit the ball and touch 'em all - a moment in the sun;(pop)

It's gone and you can tell that one goodbye!

And, now, your SportsCenter video highlight.

John 15:3

I have the utmost appreciation and respect for those who have given their life for our country and I am thankful for a chosen day to honor them. Words cannot express my gratitude, yet I hope heaven gives me the opportunity to thank you face to face. You are the very best kind of people. Those who live sacrificially and courageously for others.

My prayers are with our troops everytime I hear the National Anthem. Their families are also in my prayers as they, too, sacrifice so much. I'm reminded of this often on the days the boys are nutty and I wonder how military spouses do it when their partner is far away. Your families, your marriages, your contentment, your safety, your leaders...these are all on my heart when I pray for you. Thank you, with all my heart, for laying down your freedom and, sometimes, your life, to protect mine. Thank you for protecting my freedom to worship as I choose, to speak out when I disagree, to own a gun if I so choose, to vote as I feel led and so on. Thank you for laying down your life for mine. It's hard to wrap my mind around that.

God bless and keep our fallen soldiers and their families. God bless and keep our troops that stand ready to protect our freedoms and our families. Including my brother, Scott. He's a Green Beret stationed in Okinawa. And, for all the years our Dad served our country before he retired from the Air Force, thank you, Dad.

Greater love hath no man than this, that a man lay down his life for his friends. John 15:3

We sleep safely in our beds because rough men stand ready in the night to visit violence on those who would harm us. George Orwell

Summer, Summer, Summertime...

Preschool ended Thursday and Brian decided to teach the boys some Will Smith to usher in the summer break. He started singing, "Summer, summer, summertime. Time to sit back and unwind."

But I guess when you're four and still developing your vocabulary and "unwind" wouldn't be in your vocabulary anyway since your energy is unending (much like this sentence), you hear this...
"Summer, summer, summertime. Time to sit back and whine."

Which really cracked him up. A lot. He asked, "Daddy, do you mean 'whine' like this? Eyyyyyhhh."

Which, if that's what this summer comes down to, I may very well lose my mind.

But, hey! We've got summer vacation, folks! Here is how the fellas ended out their school year.

Nothing says, "Partay!" like some cookies and capri sun.

And, I'm so very thankful to these special ladies for loving on my boys this year. When we prayed on the way to school, our prayers included thanking God for our wonderful teachers (and their saint-like ability to make it through the day without strangling our kids). I always felt safe leaving my children with them, knowing they would supply abundant love, solid teaching and simulating, FUN activities.

So, thank you, Ms. Gretchen, Ms. Ginger and Ms. Carmen, for loving and teaching our Noah. We love you very much!

And, thank you, Ms. Ollie and Ms. Diana, for loving and teaching our Tyler! We love you very much!

The Art of Interpretation

Noah drew a picture for me at school.
I think it is precious.

And because I haven't taken art since about the 6th grade, I admittedly look at this art with untrained eyes.

I think I've got it pretty well pegged, though. The purple stick figure is obviously me because the long, thin legs are a dead giveaway. It appears I'm either sporting a black eye after a rough night on the town or too much rouge before a rough night on the town. One never knows with me.


The dark green figure next to me takes some extra time, but I decide it's a bunny with a mustache and a gigantic belly button.

Then, there's the aqua blue TX and the drawing next to it. Clearly, that stands for Texas and he has painstakingly drawn out his interpretation of the shape of Texas. Sam Houston would be so proud.

I felt pretty good about my interpretations, but decided I'd better check with the artist to be sure. I pointed to the blue Texas and puffed my chest as I asked Noah, "What did you draw here, honey?"

"A gun."

Um, excuse me? What exactly are they teaching you on the playgrounds of preschool?

Trying not to lose composure, "Uh, what made you decide to draw a gun, Noah?"

"Because I wanted to show you I can draw a gun by mineself."

Whew. As long as that's the only time you draw a gun. I mean, don't go all Wyatt Earp on me, son.

"Okay," me, moving on, "So, what does the TX mean?"

"Techt."

"You mean Texas? Because TX stands for Texas, right?"

"No, Mommy, techt. Like when someone sends a techt metjage on the phone."

Pardon me and when did you turn into Bill Gates? I've heard of this thing called Generation Z. It appears it exists. "Gen Z kids will grow up with a highly sophisticated media and computer environment and will be more Internet savvy and expert than their Gen Y forerunners."

No kidding. I didn't even know what that there thing called the e-mail was until I was a college freshman and he knows how to navigate the web. It's weird.

"So," a little less sure of myself, "who is that purple person?"

"I drawed you, Mommy. And that is a fish next to you because I wanted to show you I can draw fishies all by mineself."

Well, well, well. It seems me and my 6th grade art background would be more at home at Disney World instead of the Louvre Museum.

There is one thing that's not open to interpretation, though.

He loves me. He even drew four hearts to prove it.

And I think that is precious.

It's Like It's 12,000 BC All Over Again

Somebody told me Neanderthals were extinct.

Somebody needs to re-write the history books. It is a well documented fact Neanderthals performed tribal dances to usher in the new moon. And those actually involved mooning your Mom.

This is how they hunted food. It's a well documented fact their survival depended on what they could catch in very small pools of water. They didn't have nets or fishing lures, you know.

I think I figured out what made their Mommas go extinct, though. 'Cause if you saw this running around your cave's backyard

how would you feel knowing OxyClean and extra rinse cycles weren't going to be invented for another 14,000 years?

The Call of The Wild

Satchel the Cat has found a new hobby.

I walked into the recesses of our garage the other day and discovered this...


It seems Satch has taken to collecting animal pelts. I'm guessing this used to be some floppy-eared bunny. Some people pay good money for their authentic furs. I just own a cat that's gone rogue on us.

Tonight, she delivered this to our doorstep.


Needless to say, I'm a little freaked out.

And, if I walk into the garage to discover this someday,

well, I guess I'll appreciate knowing our cat is keeping our local taxidermist in business.

I Hope You Dance

You know what messes a girl up?

PRESCHOOL GRADUATION.

Which means this...

Handing programs to proud Daddies walking in with armfuls of floral bouquets. Years from now, most of these Daddies will walk into their child's high school graduation in much the same fashion.

Hearing pomp and circumstance as excited kids donning white caps and tassels file into the auditorium.

Watching parents stand to wave to their kids, hoping to catch their eye so they know they have a personal cheering section in the dim auditorium.

Learning Pastor Jeff's words of wisdom from the standpoint of a parent about to launch his daughters into another stage of life when they graduate from high school in three weeks. Hearing his perspective and remembering, yet again, that these moments are too fleeting. Being reminded you can't outsource the spiritual growth of your children; these things must be taught at home. Deuteronomy 6:4-9.

Reciting the Pledge of Allegiance with children I hope will grow to appreciate the sacrifices of all who gave and/or give them the right to an education.

Listening to Elizabeth Smith's tiny voice fill the auditorium with her sweet prayer.

Soaking up Florene's sage words about the importance of a parent impacting their child's spiritual awareness and growth from a young age.

Realizing how much I've come to love each child and accepting that they are being launched into a whole new stage of life. Embracing how thankful I am that these parents entrusted their children to our care and love. Finding myself cheering for and praying over each child on the stage because it's the last gift of impact I can give them.

Witnessing the pride and LOVE of teachers as they hand out diplomas.

Discovering a fresh pimple just above my lip right after I'm done serving the multitudes cookies and lemonade at the post-ceremony reception.

Knowing I devoured two chocolate chip cookies (and it wasn't even my 3:00 crazy hour!) even though I haven't worked out in two days. Unless pushing around a steam cleaner three or four or seven times this last week counts for something. Which I think it should.

But, mostly, this...being smacked in the face with the truth that I have one more year before Noah is up on that stage, white capped and tasseled. One more year to let him just be a kid and not worry about grades, bullies or hearing too much about the facts of life during recess. One more year before he starts kindergarten and, before I know it, 12th grade. One more year before he searches the crowd for his Daddy and me as we frantically wave to get this attention and spotlight his personal cheering section. One more year of realizing how much I love my children and how thankful I am that God entrusted them to my care.

And, if I'm honest, I'll probably have another two cookies at his graduation reception in one more year.

I love you, my little Preschool Friends. It's been a privilege and a blessing to be your fitness teacher. I've loved playing with you and watching you grow and mature this last year. Kindergarten is a big deal, but I hope you still experience joys and live in awe like you did at four and five. I pray your life's journey will be full of joy and blessings and that you will carry with you the affirmation, love and truth you received while at preschool.

These are what messes a girl up.

You know what excites a girl?

Looking out into the dim auditorium and seeing facial features that identify the littlest children as siblings of the graduates. Seeing Collin in his brother's face, John in his sister's face, knowing Sean and Charlize's siblings are in Tyler's class...

Realizing I get to teach some of these precious little siblings next fall!

What Have I Gotten Myself Into?

They say moms forget what having a baby is like. The moment we look into those sweet little squinty eyes, we forget all the pain we endured to gain the privilege of gazing into them. That's how we keep having babies.

It seems that, as we did our family planning and decided now would be a good time to add another member, I forgot one thing.

We now have two in potty training.

And one of these isn't motivated by M&M's.

And, considering we had four potty accidents today (each with two), I'm sure thankful we invested in one of these.

But, wouldn't you know it, just when I thought I had my bases covered, Tyler shrieked that Puppy was trying "to get (his) shoo-wee." I ran around the corner to find Puppy madly trying to get the poop out of Tyler's diaper.

While he was still in it.

I pulled her off and bent over to see if anything managed to work its way out of the diaper. And, just as I bent over to inspect...

She licked me. Right between my nostrils.

So much for puppy breath.


*She will herein be referred to as Barkley. And I wish she'd quit licking my toes right now.

We're having a...

NEPHEW!!!!

Isn't he cute?!

Congrats, Kyle, Katie and Anna! If he's anything like his big cousins and you find Baby Boy Easley oddly attracted to mud puddles (Every.Single.One.), ripping branches off your trees and peeing in his shoes, these words might help you maintain sanity...

If Huck Finn or Tom Sawyer were alive today, we’d say they had ADD or a conduct disorder. They [boys] are who they are, and we need to love them for who they are. Let’s not try to rewire them.” — Michael Gurian, author of The Wonder of Boys

My father used to play with my brother and me in the yard. Mother would come out and say, "You’re tearing up the grass." "We’re not raising grass," my dad would reply, "we’re raising boys." – Harmon Killebrew

Some parents say it is toy guns that make boys warlike. But give a boy a rubber duck and he will seize its neck like the butt of a pistol and shout, “Bang!” — George F. Will, news commentator

We can't wait to watch this new adventure unfold!