We've experienced MAJOR CATASTROPHE tonight. After a nice day (Micah's basketball team won the championship at the tournament, tonight - hard to believe with a 1-9 regular season status), the boys decided to play outside until the last ray of sun shone. When darkness began to creep in, I opened the door to call the boys in and was met with screaming hysterics.
"Mommy! Come quick! Dahlia has a baby groundhog and she won't let it go!" (For anyone reading this who doesn't know, Dahlia is our 14 year old dog. Don't miss the key words there - 14 years old. I mean to tell you, the girl takes a full minute to sit down these days not to mention getting back up again.)
Well, what was I to do? I didn't even have my shoes on. There was no way I could have gotten myself shod and run the 100 yards or so in time. And if I had, miraculously, gotten myself there in time - then what? Do you think Dahlia would have obediently dropped the groundhog and licked it's wounds? (In case you don't know the answer to that, ask my mom. She lost a chicken or two at the teeth of my sweet pooch. She's also convinced that my girl killed her neighbor's goat. But I don't believe her. And ok, there's the time she chased the cows. And Mom's cat. Oh, and she kind of bullied Mom's dog a little, too.)
So anyway, I yelled for the boys to just come inside. I figured mending broken hearts was easier than interceding with my dog and her prey.
When they finally did get inside, they were visibly upset. Apparently, there was a nest of baby groundhogs. Micah says there were about five of them, but Chase maintains that there were no less than eight. Chase said Dahlia "chomped all of them, gulped some of them down and left blood everywhere." Micah said the babies were all screaming. Both boys said they tried to get Dahlia to stop and she wouldn't.
Yikes.
Chase is the most upset. He vowed never to hug Dahlia again. Again if anyone doesn't know, Chase LOVES Dahlia. He has all of his life. Sometimes he loves her too much (you know that old Mellencamp song, "sometimes love don't feel like should, you make it hurt so good." Mellencamp probably had an entirely different meaning - but I think that is how Dahlia must feel about Chase, sometimes). Now Chase is disenchanted with Dahlia. I guess he feels betrayed by her.
Bless their little hearts. I feel bad for the babies, too - I'm glad I didn't see it happen. I suppose this is the boys' first brush with brutality. It's a harsh and vicious world out there.
So Dahlia is in the doghouse (figuratively, we don't actually have a real one).
Saturday, March 21, 2009
Friday, March 20, 2009
Tinsel Teeth
If only for the reason to use our free kid's meal Valentines before it's too late, we decided to dine at Frisch's last week. Well, only one evening last week. And, ok, I just love those fish sandwiches on rye buns, not to mention the coconut cream pie. (Hello, Diet, old friend. Can't say I've missed you much.)
During our dinner we got to discussing how both boys will need braces as soon as they turn 12. Micah's little eyes turned as big as the plate holding his cheeseburger. "I don't want braces. I like my teeth the way they are." Then before we could respond to that, "Do they have to drill holes in the front of my teeth to put the braces in?" And Chase wondered, with a suspicious glint in his eye, "Just what are 'braces,' anyway?"
So I tried to explain how braces work and that drilling holes is not part of the process. Paul may not have helped quell Micah's anxieties when he suggested that he would keep a large magnet on hand and whenever he wanted the boys to come he would pull out his magnet.
I'm not sure how many times during our dinner Micah told us that he thinks his teeth are just fine the way they are and he likes his teeth. A lot.
I hope that during these next three years, orthodontists will have perfected the stress-free, pain-free teeth straightening method. Because, frankly, you have to catch Micah first and then hold him down for just a booster shot - and you know how quickly those are administered. I can't imagine how an orthodontist would hold him down to install braces.
During our dinner we got to discussing how both boys will need braces as soon as they turn 12. Micah's little eyes turned as big as the plate holding his cheeseburger. "I don't want braces. I like my teeth the way they are." Then before we could respond to that, "Do they have to drill holes in the front of my teeth to put the braces in?" And Chase wondered, with a suspicious glint in his eye, "Just what are 'braces,' anyway?"
So I tried to explain how braces work and that drilling holes is not part of the process. Paul may not have helped quell Micah's anxieties when he suggested that he would keep a large magnet on hand and whenever he wanted the boys to come he would pull out his magnet.
I'm not sure how many times during our dinner Micah told us that he thinks his teeth are just fine the way they are and he likes his teeth. A lot.
I hope that during these next three years, orthodontists will have perfected the stress-free, pain-free teeth straightening method. Because, frankly, you have to catch Micah first and then hold him down for just a booster shot - and you know how quickly those are administered. I can't imagine how an orthodontist would hold him down to install braces.
Monday, March 9, 2009
Sometimes you're the windshield; sometimes you're the bug
Is there anyone that has gone through life without encountering the dreaded bully? Most likely not, but if so - feel free to comment about it (or anything).
Unfortunately, Micah encountered some bullying last week during recess. At least that is my motherly opinion. (I have gotten other opinions that what occurred could not be classified as bullying.) Micah likes to play basketball at recess and there is only one goal. Unfortunately another 3rd grader that enjoys playing basketball, does not like for Micah to join in. Therefore he has told Micah that he cannot play. A few times. It has hurt my boy's feelings.
And yet, I can't understand it. In my 35 year old mind I wonder, 'why does he listen to this kid?' However, my 9 year old mind probably would have not been so bold. He most likely inherited his meekness from me. (Don't laugh! I AM meek.)
Later, on Sunday night, Chase complained to me about his back hurting. Apparently one of his friends at church knocked him down. Oh yeah, after choking him. Last week this friend made bruises on Chase's arm. The thing is, this kid genuinely likes Chase. I think he's just a roughhouser. But Chase complained and whined about how much his friend hurt him.
I suppose I just sort of snapped. I asked him why he put up with it if it hurt so much. I said, "If it were me, I would tell him, 'Friend, either take your hands off of me or I will knock your lights out.' And then, if he didn't take his hands off of me, I would knock his lights out." Chase giggled, but Micah was appalled: "At CHURCH?!?" he asked. (Parental disclaimer: I don't really think Chase has this in him. Furthermore, Paul told me it was really bad advice.)
But I didn't stop there. "And, Micah! Why on earth do you let other kids tell you what you can and can't do? If I wanted to play basketball and some kid said I can't, I would ask him, 'who made you the boss of the basketball court?' And I'd play anyway!" Like I said, there was a definite snapping point. Micah liked it, though. He and Chase thought Mommy was being extra funny. The Big, Bad Mommy. I guess they've heard 8 or 9 years of "Play nice" and "be respectful" and "Staggs' aren't rude." So this was kind of a shock.
Anyway, hopefully it worked. Micah reported that he played basketball today, even after the "bully" said he couldn't. Eventually, the other kids just included him on their team. He was nicer about it, though. He said when the other kid told him to move somewhere else, Micah's answer was, "No, thanks." I like that. Polite but firm. That's my boy.
Who knows what the future of recess brings? And for that matter if my friend from church will wonder why I suggested that my son knock her son's lights out.
Unfortunately, Micah encountered some bullying last week during recess. At least that is my motherly opinion. (I have gotten other opinions that what occurred could not be classified as bullying.) Micah likes to play basketball at recess and there is only one goal. Unfortunately another 3rd grader that enjoys playing basketball, does not like for Micah to join in. Therefore he has told Micah that he cannot play. A few times. It has hurt my boy's feelings.
And yet, I can't understand it. In my 35 year old mind I wonder, 'why does he listen to this kid?' However, my 9 year old mind probably would have not been so bold. He most likely inherited his meekness from me. (Don't laugh! I AM meek.)
Later, on Sunday night, Chase complained to me about his back hurting. Apparently one of his friends at church knocked him down. Oh yeah, after choking him. Last week this friend made bruises on Chase's arm. The thing is, this kid genuinely likes Chase. I think he's just a roughhouser. But Chase complained and whined about how much his friend hurt him.
I suppose I just sort of snapped. I asked him why he put up with it if it hurt so much. I said, "If it were me, I would tell him, 'Friend, either take your hands off of me or I will knock your lights out.' And then, if he didn't take his hands off of me, I would knock his lights out." Chase giggled, but Micah was appalled: "At CHURCH?!?" he asked. (Parental disclaimer: I don't really think Chase has this in him. Furthermore, Paul told me it was really bad advice.)
But I didn't stop there. "And, Micah! Why on earth do you let other kids tell you what you can and can't do? If I wanted to play basketball and some kid said I can't, I would ask him, 'who made you the boss of the basketball court?' And I'd play anyway!" Like I said, there was a definite snapping point. Micah liked it, though. He and Chase thought Mommy was being extra funny. The Big, Bad Mommy. I guess they've heard 8 or 9 years of "Play nice" and "be respectful" and "Staggs' aren't rude." So this was kind of a shock.
Anyway, hopefully it worked. Micah reported that he played basketball today, even after the "bully" said he couldn't. Eventually, the other kids just included him on their team. He was nicer about it, though. He said when the other kid told him to move somewhere else, Micah's answer was, "No, thanks." I like that. Polite but firm. That's my boy.
Who knows what the future of recess brings? And for that matter if my friend from church will wonder why I suggested that my son knock her son's lights out.
Tuesday, March 3, 2009
Hurry, hurry!
OK, I'll admit it. I got a speeding ticket last Saturday. I thought I had time to bring Chase home from Micah's basketball game, feed him lunch and get him to baseball practice in plenty of time. I was so wrong.
On the way to baseball practice, a lady pulled out in front of me on Main Street and since she was going slow and I was in a hurry, I thought I could speed up and get around her. Bad idea. Mr. Policeman was coming from the other direction and when he passed us, I glanced in my rearview mirror and, yup, he did a u-ey. He pulled over the other car AND me (I guess she wasn't going so slow, after all).
Sitting in the parking lot of a local restaurant, I hand over my driver's license and proof of insurance. Mr. Policeman asks where I'm going in such a hurry. It sure does sound silly to admit that I'm running late for my son's baseball practice. Mr. Policeman asks if my son is in the car with me. Yes, he is, I answer. Mr. Policeman sticks his head in the driver's side window to peer into the back seat. There sits Chase, grossly absorbed into his Nintendo DS. That child did not even glance up! Mr. Policeman heads back to his cruiser to write up my ticket. Yippee.
About 6 or 7 minutes pass, and Chase looks up to see that, for some reason, we are sitting in a restaurant parking lot. He also notices that it is 2:58 and baseball practice, he knows, is supposed to start at 3:00. "Mommy! We have to be at baseball at 3:00" he says. "Well, we're not going to make it" I reply. "What are we waiting for?" Chase asks. "Oh, we're justing waiting for Mommy to get her speeding ticket" was my answer. "Oh. Okay." Chase responds.
I declare - you could practically jump up and down on that boy and if he is playing his Nintendo DS, I don't think he'd notice.
Oh well. At least it wasn't Micah with me. I don't think I could have handled all the preaching I would have gotten from the backseat.
On the way to baseball practice, a lady pulled out in front of me on Main Street and since she was going slow and I was in a hurry, I thought I could speed up and get around her. Bad idea. Mr. Policeman was coming from the other direction and when he passed us, I glanced in my rearview mirror and, yup, he did a u-ey. He pulled over the other car AND me (I guess she wasn't going so slow, after all).
Sitting in the parking lot of a local restaurant, I hand over my driver's license and proof of insurance. Mr. Policeman asks where I'm going in such a hurry. It sure does sound silly to admit that I'm running late for my son's baseball practice. Mr. Policeman asks if my son is in the car with me. Yes, he is, I answer. Mr. Policeman sticks his head in the driver's side window to peer into the back seat. There sits Chase, grossly absorbed into his Nintendo DS. That child did not even glance up! Mr. Policeman heads back to his cruiser to write up my ticket. Yippee.
About 6 or 7 minutes pass, and Chase looks up to see that, for some reason, we are sitting in a restaurant parking lot. He also notices that it is 2:58 and baseball practice, he knows, is supposed to start at 3:00. "Mommy! We have to be at baseball at 3:00" he says. "Well, we're not going to make it" I reply. "What are we waiting for?" Chase asks. "Oh, we're justing waiting for Mommy to get her speeding ticket" was my answer. "Oh. Okay." Chase responds.
I declare - you could practically jump up and down on that boy and if he is playing his Nintendo DS, I don't think he'd notice.
Oh well. At least it wasn't Micah with me. I don't think I could have handled all the preaching I would have gotten from the backseat.
Sunday, March 1, 2009
Yaaawwwwn. . .
We hit a milestone this weekend. Micah had his very first (non-family) sleepover. His basketball coach invited the team to his home for a s'mores-making, movie-watching all-nighter. Needless to say, I pulled my very own all-nighter, mom-style, complete with worrying, what-iffing, and praying.
Before I left him, I perused the movies slated for their enjoyment and they were all sports-related, motivational films. All were G and PG except for one PG-13. I was feeling pretty comfortable with that, kind of hoping that they would bypass the PG-13 one. Guess which one they watched first.
Micah reports that he did not sleep at all, except for maybe 4 minutes. But when Paul arrived to pick Micah up, Micah and the rest of the boys were still asleep (of course, I sent Paul to pick him up at 7:00 a.m.).
He says he had a blast, so I'm glad he went (yawn). Even if he is surlier than usual (yawn).
Responsibility update: Micah has now gone 3 entire weeks without forgetting a single school assignment earning a family bowling trip. Whenever we can fit that in, between basketball and baseball weekends.
Before I left him, I perused the movies slated for their enjoyment and they were all sports-related, motivational films. All were G and PG except for one PG-13. I was feeling pretty comfortable with that, kind of hoping that they would bypass the PG-13 one. Guess which one they watched first.
Micah reports that he did not sleep at all, except for maybe 4 minutes. But when Paul arrived to pick Micah up, Micah and the rest of the boys were still asleep (of course, I sent Paul to pick him up at 7:00 a.m.).
He says he had a blast, so I'm glad he went (yawn). Even if he is surlier than usual (yawn).
Responsibility update: Micah has now gone 3 entire weeks without forgetting a single school assignment earning a family bowling trip. Whenever we can fit that in, between basketball and baseball weekends.
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