Let The Games Begin

When The Boy was about 18 months old, we took him to a hockey game. I don't remember why we went that night, because we weren't big fans at the time. Little did we know how deep that little child would suck us into the sport.

One of his first words was "skate". I remember looking at him and asking, "Do you want to ice skate?" He nodded.

Not many people will work with a small toddler in that regard. By the time he had turned two, I was in touch with a female figure skating coach who said she'd take him out on the ice for a 20 minute session and evaluate her ability to work with him. Communication is difficult with a small child she said, and he needed to be able to understand her.

At two years old he was speaking in sentences.

She worked with him nearly every Sunday for a year.

Typically they don't accept children into organized hockey until they are five. The Boy has grown up at the rink, and he was allowed to be in the program this year. We figure at the very least it's two hours a week of ice time for the next five months, and hopefully he'll pick up the fundamentals as well as hone his skating skills.

Last night was his first practice. He was dog tired when we got home and barely made it through supper.

Everyone has high aspirations for their children. The Boy has aimed high on his own. He once asked me if we will come watch him when he's playing college hockey.

MFH laughed and said, "I'm pretty sure your mom will have an apartment wherever you are, son."

I Never Knew

Saturday night we traveled 90 miles to watch Joel play hockey. The Boy was watching a DVD on the way up, and MFH and I were talking about our journey to become a family. Our adoption was plagued with glitches, but we were fortunate to know people fostering in Guatemala and we received lots of pictures and updates along the way. We got to see him grow and change through their eyes.

The Boy's adoption story is just that - his story. We've never divulged the details of his life before coming to live with us to anyone but immediate family. In the interest of this post, I will just say that there had not been many men in The Boy's life when he was a baby, and we were concerned about how he'd react to and attach to MFH.

There was turmoil surrounding adoption in Guatemala at the time we had our pick up trip. When The Boy arrived at our hotel, the guards outside would not let his caregivers park to come in. MFH knew the color of the vehicle they were driving, and after seeing this car drive around and around the entrance, he ran outside. His intuition was right on - our son was in that car.

I ran out to find MFH sitting in the backseat of the car, cradling our son, who was visibly scared.

They sat, entwined, for hours.

I would stroke The Boy's forehead and talk to him, but I was content with that.

Saturday night MFH asked me if that had bothered me. He knew that the wait was hard on me and that I was aching to hold our son. I told him no. As much as I wanted to hold The Boy, I knew he was scared and I didn't want to upset him. See, I knew that I loved this child. But so much of this journey had been about my feelings and my ups and downs, and MFH was the rock. I'm not sure that I ever knew how hard the wait was for him.

MFH then said, "Having him cling to me that day was the single best thing that has happened to me in my entire life."

Now I know.

If you can't be an athlete.....

be an athletic supporter.

Heh.

Our first hockey team meeting was last night. We were to take all of The Boy's gear so the coach could go through it and tell us what we need to purchase.

"Genit@l protection, and I am not kidding," he says.

New stick - $19.00

Practice jersey - $15.00

Sharpening skates - $5.00

MFH's grin as he bought our 4.5 year old son his first jock - Priceless

Shopping on TV

I do a lot of my shopping from catalogs and online, mostly because we don't have a lot of choices here in small resort town. Most of the stores seem to cater to the very young or the very old or the very rich, with not much thought for us young-at-heart-not-yet-old-pocketbook-conscientious inbetweens.

Do any of you shop on those home shopping channels?

What do you think of them?

I've just recently rediscovered them and I find myself oohing and aahing over the stuff and just itching to pick up that phone and dial in. Oh! And to have my testimonial on TV!

Are the prices on those home shopping networks a good deal? Does anybody know? Any of you I mean. I could just take the word of those people who call in their testimonials, but I'm a little creeped out by people who just sit in front of the TV all day and all night and buy stuff, apparently tons of stuff, and then call in to say how wonderful it all is and how the hosts have become like family to them.

I would never be one of those people.

Not as long as my computer is working, anyway.

Measuring Up

Yesterday The Boy turned 4 1/2. We don't celebrate this milestone except to record his height in his room on the personalized growth chart that his oh-so-crafty grandma made for him. He is 39.5 inches tall. He has grown an inch since his birthday. He weighs about 37 pounds.

On the US growth charts he is in the 39th percentile for height and the 10th percentile for weight.

I know that it's important only that he is achieving height and weight gains. We are fortunate that our family doctor also has experience working in developing countries, and she stressed this to us when we brought him home.

I find myself silently comparing him in groups of children. Does every mother do this, I wonder? I think he's average. He wears age appropriate clothes, and they are not dragging on the ground or hanging down his rear.

The Boy starts hockey on Monday. I still find it interesting that he was drawn to hockey, a sport at which people of all statures can excel.

If attitude plays any role in this at all, he will be the tallest kid on the team.

The Gift That Keeps On Giving

Remember back when my mom came to visit and take care of The Boy? It was about a month ago. She brought a nasty cold with her.

I got it, but got over it fairly quickly.

The Boy didn't get it, thankfully.

Joel Hockey Player got it.

MFH is just getting over it.

I got it back again.

Enough already.

The Planets Are Not In Alignment

I read the horoscopes everyday just for fun.

Today my horoscope tells me to go shopping. How exciting, because I was in the mall yesterday and was immediately drawn by the B@th and B0dyw0rks smells. Seriously, I about gave myself whiplash, I snapped my head in that direction so fast!

MFH's horoscope says to pay the bills (haha that's funny - him paying bills), and figure out how much money he doesn't have.

What to do?

I could just put my purchase on the credit card, in which case we wouldn't have to pay for it until next month and surely our horoscopes will say we have more money by then.

In other planetary news, I picked The Boy up from preschool yesterday and noticed there were construction paper planets on the wall.

Me - "Did you study planets today?"

The Boy - "Yes, mommy! We looked at them on the ceiling. We live on Earth!"

The teacher in me was so excited!

Because I feel like I can't take another day....

at this job, and my FIL sent this to me in an email and it made me laugh.

Maybe I'll have something nice to say tomorrow.

Too Much Information, Part II

Remember the new lady in the service department?

I'm still trying to find some - any - reason to like her, in spite of the fact that she wears the same pair of velour pants in four different colors. I'm not the fashion police, but who wouldn't notice that?

Now she felt compelled to confide in me that she sells "Secret Tre@sures" during the evenings. You know, "things" to enhance your love life. For the people who are too shy to shop at a store where you have to enter through the alley. Or, for people who don't know how to shop online. You know, cause who wouldn't rather go to a party at someone's house with 20 of your closest friends and/or people you don't know, and shop for sexu@l pleasure?

Ooh and aah over the selection?

Admit you don't know what the hell to do with THAT????

I guess the worst part is I wonder what kind of aura I'm throwing off here, because she didn't even mention it to Holly - the only other female employed here, and who is MUCH more friendly with her than me.

If she invites me? I'm dragging Holly along. In handcuffs.

Freudian Slip?

Every Saturday morning our routine is the same. The Boy and I head out to W@lm@rt to get our weekly supplies. I have quite the little shopper on my hands.

This past Saturday I tried to shake things up a bit. It was the beginning of the craft show season in our little resort town where artists abound. I always look forward to going and finding things that my very crafty and talented MIL can duplicate for me. You know, for free.

Me - "So, should we go to the craft show before we go to W@lm@rt?"

The Boy - "No, mama. I don't want to go to a crap show."

You Give Me Fever

The preschool called me at 2:30 on Tuesday. The Boy was slow to wake up from nap, which would have been the first indication there was something wrong, as he rarely naps anymore. His cheeks were flushed and he asked for ice water. He had a low grade fever and wanted mommy to come. No problem. I quickly cleared my desk and was there by 3:00.

Over the next two days we dealt with temperatures ranging from 100 to 103. I treated him for the fever and it finally broke yesterday afternoon.

I was just doing some research that said a low grade fever is the body's way of fighting off infection and that you are better not to treat it. Let the body take care of itself.

I am a huge advocate of this outlook, but The Boy was miserable. He was ingesting a ton of liquids, but he was hot and lethargic without medication.

Do you treat fever, or just let nature run it's course?

Too Much Information

We've hired a new assistant at work in the service department. She's been there about three weeks now. I'm having a hard time finding anything to like about her. But, I'm trying. Really.

She was gone last Friday and again on Monday because she was sick with some type of stomach virus.

Tuesday she commented that she'd lost five pounds during the ordeal, what with the puking and diarrhea.

I think she overestimated my curiosity.

My Little Punkin

DD pointed out that The Boy looks so serious in this picture. I'm guessing it's one of two things. 1)The sun is in his eyes, or 2)He helped me rake the leaves and fill the bags, and then he carried all the little ones across the yard and moved them around, much like rearranging furniture, to this final resting place. After this he told me he needed a little rest. :)

Poor Joe

We traveled to my in-laws on Saturday for family pictures. I'll let you know in a future post how that all turns out. We weren't all that excited about it, but you do things like that for your mom. Besides, it gave us a chance for professional pictures of the three of us, which we haven't done since right after The Boy came home.

There are deer and antelope everywhere. Because of the fires in August, they have nowhere to be but in the fields near the interstate. When I see one dead on the road, it just breaks my heart, and I always say "Oh, poor Joe." Because the other deer probably just keep hopping over the dead one and think "Oh, man, poor Joe. That just sucks. He was such a cool dude."

I don't know why I call them Joe.

MFH says there must be a place in heaven for someone who feels so badly for the dead deer on the side of the road.

Anyway, MFH likes to hunt. No big deal. It's pretty common here in Montana. Venison is actually good for you. Do I prefer it to beef? No. But I understand the comraderie that happens when it comes to men and hunting, having grown up in a hunting family with three brothers. MFH can't wait to take The Boy with him someday.

One day we were in W@lm@rt back in the sporting goods section where they have all those dead animal heads hung on the walls. There was a huge elk, very beautiful. I told The Boy, "You know what that elk said to the man that was hunting him?"

"Don't shoot me!"

Yeah, that went over real big.

If It Ain't Broke.....

You've Changed 36% in 10 Years

Ah, the past! You may not remember it well - because you're still living in it. While you've changed some, you may want to update your wardrobe, music collection and circle of friends.

How Much Have You Changed in 10 Years?

This totally cracked me up! At first I was surprised at the results, but I shouldn't have been. I recently took stock of my closets, and even though I am a clothes horse and buy new things regularly, I do have outfits that are at least 10 years old. Add to that The Boy's mullet and our love of the 80's/90's metal bands and, well, there ya go.

How do you score?

In The News

There's a lot of hubbub in the adoption community today regarding one famous M@donn@ adopting a baby from a country in Africa, much as there was when Meg Ry@n adopted her daughter from China and the J0lie-P1tts added to their family.

People are speculating whether these famous people have to have homestudies and go through agencies and wait, wait, wait. Or if, because they are famous (why that would really matter to anyone caring for orphaned infants in a facility in a third world country I can't imagine), they get to just arrive on a jet one day and then leave the next day with a baby?

I don't care.

The point is these people are adding a child to their family who otherwise might never know the love of a mom and/or a dad. The child will get good medical care and an education. The child will have enough of, well, everything.

Doesn't every child deserve that?

Testify

We had lots of playdates with the kids in the neighborhood.

He had 4 very busy days with each grandma, which is a real treat.

He had 3 days off with just mommy, another treat.

BUT

He told me he was bored.

He asked me to do circle time with him, which is the time in preschool when they do lessons.

He said he missed his school friends.

On Sunday night he could hardly sleep because he was so excited to go back to school on Monday.

Last night when I picked him up, he said he was so happy.

Maybe it's because The Boy has been in daycare/preschool for as long as he can remember, but I have a hard time thinking I am not doing the right thing.

At least for my kid.

Under the Influence

I wash the hockey player's clothes for him. Over the past year and three resident hockey players, I've learned it's just easier to throw their laundry in with ours than to fight with them over the use of the washer and dryer.

I then fold it and put it on their bed. No big deal.

The Boy has always liked to do laundry with me - from taking it out of the hamper to folding it. I have always let him meticulously fold his own clothes.

Apparently he watches what I fold with great interest.

The hockey players have all worn boxers. On Friday The Boy asked me to buy him a pair of boxers. I let him choose one pair and we looked at the difference between boxers and briefs. I told him that he could try it, and if he liked the boxers we'd think about buying some more.

Today he wore them for the first time.

MFH came out of the bedroom giggling after helping The Boy get dressed for the day.

The Boy tugged his pants down a few inches so you could see the tops of his boxers.

Oh dear.

All Bets Are Off

Our son has always had a "No Fear" attitude.

As soon as we discovered this characteristic, MFH and I jokingly made bets as to when we would make our first trip to the ER for a broken bone. I chose age 2 and MFH chose age 3. We made it through both of those years injury free.

I'm crossing my fingers and knocking on wood here.

Seeing The Boy completely horizontal with the ground and perpendicular with the top of the swingset while on that glider in the pic below made us nervous. He is a daring little soul. When I asked him how he came up with the idea to ride the glider this way, he said "I just made it up."

I would never forbid him to do it, because we all know what happens when parents do that.