No TV? Aaack!

As most everyone else has experienced, we've undergone a major winter storm this week. First 4" of snow, followed by 1" of ice, then topped off by another 3" of snow. It is beautiful.

The boys haven't been to school since Monday (did I mention that today is Friday?). We were blocked in for the first couple of days by several trees down in our driveway. And since the 1" of ice, their outside time has been limited due to the hazard of unstable trees. On Tuesday, we lost our t.v. reception. Ah, the joys of satellite.

So, you see where I'm going with this. No school, very little outside time, stuck at home, NO TV. Major motion picture companies could make millions off of the horror this strikes into a mom's heart.

However (and quite surprisingly) we've had such a lovely week. We've played games, put together puzzles, read, run around the house pretending to be Luke Skywalker and some Storm Troopers. You should see the LEGO creations.

I've amassed quite a collection of custom comic books this week. One in particular was about a Baby vs. a Bully, whereupon in an unexpected ending the Baby takes down the Bully and then proclaims, "There's a NEW Bully in town." ($5 Starbucks gift card to the first person to name the author of that comic book).

The government should have done studies in my house this week. Maybe then they'd relax a bit about the big digital switch. Are you ready? (Whatever).

What happened last week

It's been a while since I've posted a new blog. Either things are currently really boring or really busy, I haven't decided which. As it is, I have no one-good story to tell this time. Just a few updates.

Micah's quest to be more responsible has been, well, frustrating. Last Thursday it was warm - at least in the 40s - and I decided to take the boys to the park after school. They were allowed to bring their scooters since I was walking Dahlia on the trail. When we got to the park, Micah had his scooter but not his helmet and therefore was not able to ride. Needless to say, he made the trip to the park almost unbearable! How much enjoyment can one get from a walk when one has to listen to stomping and whining, anyway? Sadly, the afternoon got worse.

When we got home the boys were to do their homework while I fixed dinner. Micah looked through his bookbag and was horrified to find that he had forgotten to bring home his homework. His first reaction was to blame the substitute for not reminding him to pack it up at the end of the day. And while he makes a good point that a disruption of normalcy can make one forget things, let's face it - this sort of thing happens all too often with Micah. Unfortunately this was the 3rd time this month he'd not had his homework to turn in for some reason or another and that means he will not participate in the school's "Bulldog Club." The Bulldog Club is a special time for kids who 1) behave, and 2) do their homework. And if they stay in it all year, the kids earn a T-shirt at the end of the year. Micah has NEVER missed out on a Bulldog Club and is devastated (and I mean devastated - really, tears and all) that he will miss out on it this month. I, too, am heartbroken for him. I sure hope he starts getting the hang of this responsibility thing soon!

On another note, Chase's Sunday School teacher (Mrs. Sue) called us tonight. What a delightful woman - really! She wanted to remind Chase to read his Bible this evening. He was in the bathroom and couldn't talk, so I told her I'd pass the message along. Mrs. Sue said that before she called us she called Katie, another of her students. Katie asked, "Have you talked to Chase, yet?" Mrs. Sue responded that no, she hadn't gotten to Chase yet. He was further down the list. Katie said, "Be sure to tell him that I miss him, when you do talk to him." (I know it's mean, but I just HAD to tell Chase that. How can you pass up an opportunity like that?) Chase slapped his hand to his forehead and said, "Aaargh! I HATE it when she says things like that!" (tee-hee! Ah, Chase - the chick magnet).

I'll end with this last bit - because it just epitomizes the typical male, in my opinion. Saturday night I visited with friends and made an Italian sausage lasagna to take with me. I thought it'd be just as easy to double the recipe so I could have an extra to serve on Sunday after church - especially since we'd be having one of Micah's friends over. I put one in the oven and the other in the refrigerator. Paul came home while the one was baking and commented on how good it smelled and how unfair it was that I was taking it to other people. I told him he was in luck, that there was an extra one and we'd eat it on Sunday. When I got home that night he asked me how my friends enjoyed the lasagna. I said everyone like it and that he would, too. Paul answered that he had already eaten a piece and served it up to the kids for dinner as well. I didn't quite know what to say. "Paul. I hadn't COOKED that lasagna yet. Remember? I told you we'd have it on Sunday." He said he thought it seemed a little crunchy and crumbly.

Men!

The Enabling Mommy

This past Tuesday evening, Micah was measuring with meters, centimeters and decimeters for math homework.When he had completed it, he handed it to me to look over - as is our custom. Sadly, I must admit I have no idea how to measure in anything other than inches, feet and (sometimes) yards. (Drat that confounded metric system! Doesn't it know to stay out of the U.S.?) Anyway, I asked Paul to help and together we were able to check over Micah's homework.

It was time to set the table for supper and I didn't want Micah's homework to get gloppy so I put it away in his bookbag (let the ominous background music start now).

Wednesday, Micah brought home a note from his teacher saying that his homework was not turned in, nor any of the other various folders for which he is responsible and that he would not be able to participate in recess until all is turned in. When I asked Micah why he did not turn in his requirements he answered that he could not find them. They were not in his bookbag.

Well! I knew differently! I did not leave that job to my (perfectly capable) son. No sir, I placed it in his bookbag, myself. So after Micah and I searched the house high and low, and the car, I sent off an email to his teacher stating that I had put his homework in his bag and I am sure it made it to school and could she please have Micah check everywhere at school, again?

Thursday morning came around and Micah's teacher replied to my email. Micah had checked all around and had not located his missing items. I searched the house (again), then went to school. Now, before you lecture me on being too intrusive, Thursday happens to be the day I regularly volunteer at the school. So I was going anyway.

I checked the office and the lost and found (with no luck) before heading to Micah's classroom. Lo and behold, there on the shelf above the bookbags out in the hallway are all of Micah's missing items - plain as day. I showed Micah's teacher - who was bewildered. She said Micah had looked around for two days without finding his items. We decided that we should give him another chance to find his things and left everything lying where it was. At that point, his teacher asked if I regularly packed his bookbag. "Er, uh, I mean . . ."

OK. Point taken. I THOUGHT I was helping my kids out, but truth be told, I am teaching them to be dependent on me. Well, no more! We are going to be one mighty independent and organized household.

Boy, it's hard, though. This morning (Friday), I saw his homework lying on the bench in the mudroom before we walked out for school. I fought every urge to place it in his bag. I watched him pick up his bag and go outside without his homework (man, it physically hurt to watch that). I will admit, I told Micah to check the mudroom before we drove away. Paul says I should have said nothing. I think he's right - it's as hard a lesson for me as it is for Micah.

I have to add this, though. As I'm writing, Paul and Micah just came home from his basketball practice. Paul reports that Micah walked out of the house without his coat, basketball or dribbling report. Yup, we've a long road ahead of us.

Ain't it great? Chase is eight!

Chase celebrated his 8th birthday today! (I'll try not to get on my "how did this happen? where is my baby?" tangent.)

Before my story of his birthday begins, I just have to tell this other, shorter story because it's so darn cute. Bobbie and George took him out for his special time Saturday and let him pick out his birthday present. He chose a LEGO set that was more than they planned to pay. Bobbie tried to talk him into other toys, but Chase apparently begged and pleaded for this particular LEGO set. So, being grandparents, they bought it for him. Bobbie told me that while standing in line Chase said, "I just can't believe I am actually holding this in my hands!"

See? Isn't he just the cutest little thing?

Anyway, I tucked him in tight Sunday night. Gave him hugs and kisses. I said for him to give me my last 7-year-old kiss ever and then said goodnight. No sooner than I had come downstairs to brush my teeth, Chase was by my side.

"Oh, yeah, Mommy, when you go out to get my birthday present tonight - remember I want a LEGO Agent set, Mission 8. Try to find that, ok?" (Clearly Chase believes that I am a last minute shopper. Everything was not only bought, but wrapped up and ready to go. And the gifts did NOT include that particular LEGO set.)

I hugged him again and sent him up to his room.

After I washed my face and got my pj's on, Chase was back in my room. "Another thing, Mommy. I need a new mattress. I really want a Tempur-Pedic, ok?"

"You want a mattress for your birthday?" I ask in disbelief. I wonder if there are any other 8 year olds on the entire planet that would ask for a Tempur-Pedic for his birthday.

"Yeah. You know, along with a few toys." He responds.

I hug him, kiss him and send him to his room - again.

The third time he comes into my room Paul tells him that we'll start taking away one present for each time he comes into our room. So he decided it might be best to try to get some shut-eye.

At approximately 3:30 a.m., Chase comes into my room. He wants to know when would be a good time to open presents. When I suggest 7 a.m., he is appalled. "THAT LONG?!?"

I help him back to his bed, fearful that Paul may hold true to his word.

Seven o'clock came way too early, but I dragged myself out of bed, grabbed my camera and headed to the kitchen to watch the present-opening. Chase's brand new, shiny bike was sitting there with a bow on top. I couldn't wait to hear what he would say.

"Oh, I wondered what kind of bike you got me" was not the response I was expecting.

"How did you know we got you a bike?"

"Micah told me."

We would never entrust Micah with secrets. He apparently went on a search mission through the night. And then blabbed. Which is why we don't trust him with secrets.

Oh well, you can't go wrong with a DS game. And fortunately he got that, too.

Basketball Practice

It was my turn to take Micah to practice again on Tuesday (the GPS was in the vehicle, awaiting, this time - see December 12 post). At 7:00 I gave Micah warning. "We need to leave in 20 minutes, Micah. Change your clothes and get your dribbling report." Micah, who was busy stomping his dad at a game of tennis on the Wii, gave me a noncommittal grunt for an answer.

When the time rolled around and I was ready to leave, Micah could not find his dribbling report (the paper that states that he practiced dribbling every day). He became quite upset. "If I don't bring my dribbling report, the coach will make me run!"

I (being Mom) don't like this. I like to protect my children from, well, everything. However, I can see that this is one of those teachable moments that you read about in parenting books. We searched for a few minutes but then, after having no luck finding the report, I announce that we must leave or else we will be late.

Micah became even more upset. "I don't want to go to practice! I'm not going! I can't run because my leg still hurts!" (We went rollerskating a few days ago, thus the sore leg).

I was tempted to not make Micah experience any of this, but I insisted he go and face whatever punishment was ahead of him. I mentioned that maybe this would help him keep up with his report in the future. When Micah continued to complain about his leg, I suggested he could mention to the coach that it was sore but that he needed to let the coach decide what to do.

We get to practice and Micah makes a beeline for the coach. "I couldn't find my dribbling report, but my leg hurts because I went skating and fell down a lot," Micah blurted.

Micah's coach blinks confusedly at Micah. "I'm sorry. Tell me again, what does your leg have to do with your dribbling report?"

When the coach was finally up to speed on Micah's situation, he decided not to make Micah run, but did spend some time lecturing him on the principle of discipline.

With that over, Micah and I went to the sidelines where I asked him to take off his coat and jeans so he could start practicing. Micah said, "You want me to take off my jeans?!? But, Mommy, I don't have on anything underneath!"

Sigh. Was any lesson learned here? Perhaps it was a lesson for me. Turn off the Wii before giving directives.

P.S. He did stay and practice in his jeans. And he did look silly among the other boys in their basketball shorts and other gear. But he did very well. And was not too humble about it, either.