Wheeler Deelers

During Grandma and Grandpa's visit, we rediscovered the kids' long lost Geotrax Train set - which we had assumed Grandma had tossed at her last visit.  Apparently, she had instead stored it in an old bathtub, without our knowledge.  Rob told the boys that if they sold their newly discovered "treasure", they could keep the cash.  They have been working ALL DAY putting the set together, finding the missing pieces, arranging it for the perfect Craigslist picture. 

I overheard them from upstairs.
"How much should we ask for it?  $100?"
"No way!! $1000!"
"$1000?  Really?"
"Someone will totally pay $1000 for all this stuff.  They're out there.  Believe it."

Sure.  Sure some schmuck will pay $1000 for my kids' old plastic train set that's been sitting in a bath tub for the past three years.  Sure they will.  Who am I to squash their wheeler deeler dreams?

Handel's Messiah

We decided at the last minute to go to the local rendition of Handel's Messiah.  This would be a first for all of us, and it seemed like a great Christmas-y thing to do.  We really didn't know what to expect... at all.  Anyways, due to the "very last minute" nature of our ticket purchases, the only seats available for our size family were in the FRONT ROW.  Like REALLY front row.  If the performers were wearing skirts?  Yeah.  We'd have been looking up them. 

Are any of you aware that the "excerpted" version of Handel's Messiah is THREE HOURS LONG?  Yes.  And that's just the "excerpts".  Do you know that the attention span of a modern Aho Yooper is NOT three hours long, when listening to opera?  I was really proud of the kids, whose every move was watched like a hawk by the baritone soloist sitting directly above our heads (we were THAT close).  They followed along in the program and tried their best not to fidget.   And I really enjoyed any of the parts with the chorus and symphony, but... those opera soloists?  The ones that sang the same single Bible verse over and over and over until they made it last 10 minutes long for a SINGLE LINE?  I could've done without them.  They're very talented.  It's just... not my thing, opera. And apparently not my family's thing either.   And when you're following along in the program, and realize... "wait!  They didn't move on to the next line!  They repeated that line!  No... what?  They're repeating it again?  And... again??  Just say it already!  Move on!  We've got 53 more verses to go!"   It just makes having patience really hard.  REALLY hard. Sigh. 

Afterwards, I documented the reactions of my family.  Identities have been obscured for the protection of the complainers.

12 year old boy: "That was the longest amen in history".
8 year old girl: "I should've stayed home and watched Mary Poppins."
46 year old man: "I spent the whole time counting the singers nose hairs and catching his spittle in my face."
12 year old boy: "I never want to do that again. EVER."
12 year old boy: "Just because they're singing Bible verses doesn't make it good, Mom."
8 year old girl: "I can't believe we survived that. I almost died of boredness."
44 year old woman: "I really liked the parts I recognized... the Hallelujah Chorus and 'For Unto Us a Child is Born'".
12 year old boy: "Don't give me that.  I saw you falling asleep."
44 year old woman: "People had longer attention spans when this was written in the 1700s."

So, we aren't sophisticated when it comes to our musical tastes.  It was still fun dressing up and going out for an evening.

Advent Calendar

We have an Advent Calendar in our living room.  Quinn was asking this morning how many days there are until Christmas. 

"Welp," says I.  "It's the 12th and Christmas is the 25th.  So 13 days."

"NO," Quinn replies.  "I meant until Christmas break."

His world revolves around the days that there are no school.  He's more excited about that than Christmas itself, methinks.  I don't think "Middle School Winter Break" is on the liturgical calendar, though!!!!

Deadly Sins

So, a few things have been happening simultaneously here.  Firstly, I have been sick.  Like dog-sick for weeks, a literal snot-factory where I am highly medicated and feeling fatigued.  Secondly, our country is going through a very ugly national election.  Thirdly, life and work and school and extracurricular activities have ramped up to a frantic level, and mama is feeling overwhelmed.  Oh, and then lastly... the boys happened to LISTEN during Sunday school this week.   SO, that's the stage, as we were driving to school in the car yesterday.

Mom: "Well, boys.. I didn't exercise again this morning, because I feel so crappy.  AND tomorrow is my day of despair... the national election, where I cannot forsee a good outcome for the country."

Quinn and Colby: "GEEZ Mom.  You are committing so many deadly sins."

Mom: "WHAT???"

Quinn: "Yes.  Sloth and despair.  And maybe gluttony."

Mom: "In my defense, gluttony has taken a back seat because I have no appetite since being sick.  And.... ok.  I will have hope.  I have hope that whoever wins, impeachment proceedings start immediately.  Despair is gone."

Now to work on sloth.

Harsh.

Quinn, on the Election

The boys have been hearing lots about the election this year (who couldn't.  It's everywhere.  And it's ugly).  Quinn popped off with this the other day.

"Mom, people say that Donald Trump is a misogynist". 

"Hmmmm.  Do you even know what that means?" I asked.

"Of course.  It means that he massages people's backs," says he.

HAHAHAHAHAHAHA.  He was offended that I laughed at him, but I couldn't help it. 

"I'm pronouncing it wrong Mom, but that IS what it means!"  Too funny. 

And then, both boys came up with this, and I nearly peed my pants.

"Mom, if Donald Trump was Mexican, this is what he'd say...  [[in their best Donald impersonations]]
'I'm going to build a ramp over that wall, and get those hot-dog eating Americans to pay for it!  Let's make Mexico Bueno again!'"

I died.  WHERE do they come up with this stuff?????

Autobiographies of the first 12 years

Both boys have written autobiographies for English class.  Here's what they wrote:

COLBY:

Usually, an autobiography starts when the person was born. But not me! I start before I was born. SO, now that you know how this is going to start, let us begin.

Let me set the scene. There was me, in the dark, trapped in that tiny space known as the womb. But there was something different in that little space. Usually, people will tell you how they were all alone in the womb, but not me. I was a twin. "Oh." I hear you saying, "then that makes it better." Well, let me tell you first hand it doesn't. Remember how I said it was cramped? Well, having a twin makes it two times worse. I have FOOTAGE of me getting kicked around by that annoying little brat.  Wait!  Who is the "annoying little brat?" Well, that person is my twin/brother. His name is Quinn. 

"But how is he 'little,' if he's your identical twin?"

Technically, I am 5 minutes older than him, but that is not the point. Quinn was annoying even before he was born; he would take my food,kick me around, etc. But right as I was born, I decided to turn the tables and started hitting him in the face.

After that, I grew up and got some hobbies. One of the most memorable was video games.

December 25, 2010 (something along those lines), 1 am, yep, 1 am. I woke up and ran as fast as those little legs could take me.  I slammed open the door so hard it nearly broke. But, hey it was Christmas.  I ran down the stairs making booms as I ran. Boom! Boom! Boom!

In fact, it was so loud that it woke up my mom sleeping downstairs.  We will get to that later. My little kid self nearly broke the sound barrier  running into the living room, and there it was. A Wii.  

"A Wii!?!?!?!" little, tiny me screamed.  My scream of excitement woke everybody in the whole house. Then my mom walked up next to me and very groggily said "tell me, Colby, why are you up at 1 am in the morning?"

"Wait," I asked, "It is 1 am in the morning?"

 "Yes."

 "Huh, the more you know." So she let me sleep with her and said go to bed, but I said "are you serious?" She sighed and mumbled to herself, "Welp, I am certainly not going to sleep for a long, long time."  Yes, I agreed.  Not until you let me play that Wii.  Then we made a deal.  I would wait in her bed until 5 am, then I could wake everybody up. But I would never go to sleep during that period.

Okay, enough about video games (for now).  Let's talk about animation.

So, my teacher makes us write in our journal, and we have to write about our passion, and I am thinking  "Hmm, what should be my passion?  Hmm, I wonder what my logo says ( no, not the old one)? Hmm..."  Thus I pick animation. Let me tell you before you go running off to buy an expensive animation program; IT IS HARD. Not only that, it is time-consuming. It takes about 5 hours for a 1-minute clip by yourself. Oh, and by the way, if you do buy that "really expensive animation program" you will probably think "why the heck did I buy this?  This is a waste of my money."   But I have been naming off the bad stuff.   There is a lot of good stuff about it. It helps me to relax, and when you finish your animation, it feels rewarding. But most of all IT IS FUN.

Let's talk about pets.

Over the years (which is not many) I had five dogs that I can remember.

Their names were Gunner, Morgan, Fergie, Sammy, and Blue. I'm going to talk a little bit about them all.

Morgan:

By FAR Morgan was the bravest. She would protect you from anything. From criminals to dogs to even wolves, she was there to protect.  She had her own home behind the sauna. On the day of her death, she made a hole under the house and died.

Fergie:

Fergie was playful. I think Fergie was dad's favorite dog. She liked to play catch with the football. She liked to hide under the covers in the bed so nobody could find her.  She was a great dog.  When she died, we made a memorial for her and buried her, with a sign to remind us of that great dog.

Gunner:

Gunner is my current dog. Gunner is smart, in a mischevious sort of way. He is also a "playful, but rough" kind of dog.  He plays "catch me," which is a game where he runs around, and you have to catch him.  He jukes you out, and when you try to find him, he jumps right over your arm.

Sammy:

I never really knew Sammy, his death was unknown, and I don't remember him that much. But what I do know is that he was WILD, but not in a bad way. I remember that Sammy was alive when Morgan was around. And those two would play a lot.

Blue:

I don't remember Blue at all; I was tiny at the time. 

I don't even know Blue's gender.  But what I do know is that Blue was an excellent dog and that I THINK he was a beagle, so you know he was a great dog.

So, now you know a little bit about my life. But that is not even close to all of my life. I haven't even told you how I make music and post on Youtube and Soundcloud, or how I make video games, or even how I went to MEXICO! But I will tell you life is great so far. And I hope it will stay that way forever.

FROM QUINN:

Autobiography

            Welcome to my autobiography, where I will tell you about my life!  Even though I’m in 7th grade!   We’ll talk about where I live, to where I’ve been!  First, I will talk about my passion and then I will go on from there.            

            I am passionate about music, because I just like everything about it; from writing it, to playing it, and even listening to it! It's what motivates me, and helps me concentrate.   My favorite types of music are dance, EDM, and electronic.  I really like MUSIC!                                           

I also play three instruments: trumpet, keyboard/piano, and mandolin.  What I do in my spare time is make music on my phone and post it online. I post my music on a website called Soundcloud, which is a site where you can listen to music, like itunes.  My profile is called MrOpaze and I have currently made 16 songs!

 I currently have two pets. One of them is a dog named Gunner, and I know what you're thinking. You think since his name is Gunner,  he is a big ferocious dog with lots of teeth and will attack you at any moment.  Well, you would be wrong… besides the ferocious part! He is actually a small, energy-filled 100% Jack Russell Terrier puppy, and  trust me he is ferocious!   When he bites on my pant leg, he won’t let go! He is a cute little monster! The second pet I have is a fish that has lived for a whopping 7 years so far! I’m not sure what type of fish he is because we got him so long ago, but what I do know is that he is a determined fish.  My fish is orange, but he used to be black.  I don’t know if it is a natural thing or not, but I think I might know why: one day my sister put a perfume bottle over the fish tank, and I think you know what's next… she dropped it in the fish tank! And it is still alive. Those are my pets.

I've been to a lot of places;  Hawaii, Mexico, Florida, Honduras, Belize, the Cayman Islands,  Canada, and many more! One of my favorite vacations I’ve ever been on was the cruise.  It was a cruise that went from Florida to Mexico.  We didn't need a passport, because we started in Florida and ended in Florida. This was four years ago, but I remember that I was in a bus with my with my cousins heading to the docking bay, but once I got there, they wouldn't let me in! They didn't let me in because I didn't have my birth certificate, but my mom had it and she was on a different bus! I had to sit there in front of the door while a guard watched me! It was a mess! But eventually she came, and I got in.  Once I took a step in the boat, I was amazed. It was super fancy.  The cruise was called Carnival, and it was like everything was made of glass and I thought it was going to break!

I have four family members.  Their names are Reagan, Colby, Monica and Rob.  Monica and Rob are my parents.  Reagan is my little annoying sister.  Colby is my twin.  We are of Finnish descent and we go on a lot of vacations as I mentioned before.  We live in Chassell. 

Since I’m only 7th grade, I know this autobiography is not over yet.  There are a lot of things in store for me.  I hope you like my autobiography.

THE END!!

 

           

           

           

Dinner Conversation

Quinn was pouring himself a glass of cranberry juice at dinner tonight.  Everyone was watching, waiting for the inevitable spill.

Colby: "Don't spill.  If you do, they'll send you to the orphanage."
Quinn: "Geez, people!  So much pressure! You're all staring at me!   REALLY?"
Quinn poured.  Quinn spilled.
Colby: "ORPHANGE!"
Quinn: "They wouldn't ever send me to an orphanage."
Colby: "I remember the time I made a plan to run away."
Mom and Dad: "You did?"
Colby: "Yes.  I wrote it down and everything.  I was going to run away, and then stop at grandma and grandpa's house for food and money for a few days, until you noticed I was gone."
Mom: "You think it would take a few days for us to notice you were gone?"
Colby: "Yeah.  You'd see Quinn around, and think it was me and I'd have a few days.  Then you'd call the cops, and I would set out from grandma and grandpa's house."
Dad: "And where were you planning on going?"
Colby: "I don't remember that part.  I would just take the money they gave me for transportation and food.  I wrote it all down."
Mom: "HMMMMM.  And what was so terrible in your life that you wanted to run away?"
Colby: "It was a few years ago, when I accidentally broke the window at school.  That was the worst day of my life."


Glad he didn't run away.  But does he REALLY think we'd notice if he wasn't here??? 

Smart Aleck

Putting the boys to bed tonight, I gave Quinn a kiss on the forehead.

"I love you, buddy" I said.

"And I have strong regard for you as well, Mother". 

Loopholes

Quinn: "Mom, you are the queen of loopholes."
Mom: "No I'm not!"
Quinn: "YES!  I come to you and ask if you can get electronics out of the safe, and you tell me 'go clean your room'.  I go clean my room, and come back and you say 'I never said I would get it out, I just told you to clean your room!'"
Mom: "True.  I cannot be held responsible for your assumptions."
Quinn: "That's a loophole."
Mom: "No.  That's precise wording."

Quintessential Quinn

This is how Quinn spent much of his summer - notebook on lap, tapping out a melody on the keyboard he bought with his birthday money.  Both boys are big into composing these days.  Obsessed really, which is nice because it gives Mom a "carrot" to hold over their heads to get chores done.  No music making until the dishwasher is emptied.  Which is a warped way of looking at things, but from a Mother's perspective... brutally honest. 

They're good, these boys.  They both have good ears, and creative ideas.  Quinn has switched from wanting to be a geologist to a music composer when he grows up.  Colby still wants to be a software engineer, but design, illustrate, and produce music for his own video games.  Soup to nuts, so to speak.  We will see.  We will see.

She's Going To Blow

Conversation in the car on the way home tonight.  Reagan was pouting because she wanted to stay at grandma's house and play with a friend instead of going home.  It was 8:30 pm... bedtime. 

Reagan: "PLEEEEEEASEEEEEE Mom!  I really want to play with her!"
Mom: "Reagan, this conversation is over.  I gave you my answer.  We're going home."
Reagan: "But PLLLLLLLLLLLLLLLLLLEEEEEEEAAAAASEEE? ((whine whine whine))"
Quinn, putting his hand on  my shoulder from the back seat.  "It's okay, Mom.  Calm down.  Don't blow."
Mom: "I am calm!  I didn't blow up.  I didn't say anything!"
Quinn: "But you were about to.  I can totally tell when you're about to blow.  Reagan, you need to be quiet, because Mom is on the verge of blowing."
Mom: "How do you know that?"
Colby: "Because you're making your 'annoyed' face." 
Without even looking in a mirror, I can tell you... I most assuredly was making an annoyed face. 
Quinn: "I can totally read you, Mom, just like I can read Colby.  Like, for example, if I say 'Mom' too much, you blow.  Like the 10th time I say it... watch out.  You yell."
Colby: "And the 2nd time you ask us to do something.  You freak out."
Mom: "It's more like the 12th time I ask you to do something, but you ignore the first 11 times.  Then I blow."
Quinn:  "That's because Reagan keeps the t.v. up too loud."   (editor's note:  [[eye roll]])
Mom: "Well, Quinn, I would like you to teach Reagan that very valuable skill.  Teach her to read my cues and not push me to the point of blowing."
Colby: "Sometimes I do things just to see you lose it."   Thanks, Colby.

If they know what annoys me so well, why do they keep doing it???

12 Year Old Well Child Stats: For the Record Book

At 12 years of age, the boys have the following stats:

Colby: height 5'0.25"  weight 77 pounds    BMI 14.99  (19th% for weight, 66th% for height, BMI in 5th%)
Quinn: height 5'.5"      weight 83 pounds    BMI 15.94  (32nd% for weight, 73rd% for height, BMI in 16th%)

Apparently, there's not a lot of good data out there about one kidney and football, so the doctor said if the boys wanted to play - go ahead.  With appropriate padding.  I guess we let them snowboard and ride a 4 wheeler, so... those are just as dangerous.  And they play all these sports with only one brain and we're fine with THAT, so I shouldn't be worried, right????  Something about football though.  Makes me nervous.  But the physical form has been sign, the shoes have been bought, and my beanpole 5th% BMI boys are all excited to tackle and be tackled. 

So be it.  Bring on 7th grade.

Helplful Observation

Quinn always seems to wax philosophical when we're in the car.

"Mom, I've been alive for twelve years and that seems like such a long time.  I can't imagine how old you are.  You've got me nearly quadrupled!"

Mom: "Well, it seems really short to me!  It goes so fast."

Quinn: "You're already half way to the finish line, Mom!"

Nice.  Thanks for that helpful insight, son.

Sassy pants

Quinn: "Reagan, you're annoying the heck out of me.  You're just so annoying!"

Mom: "Quinn, that's not nice.  The bickering all three of you are doing is annoying me!"

Quinn: "Well, you're welcome to leave the room, mom."

GRRRRRRRR.  That won't take much convincing.  Maybe not the room.  Maybe the house.

Thanks For That.

Quinn was sitting next to me on the bed, his hand on my shoulder.  Then he tapped me.  And then he tapped my arm again.

"What do you want?  I'm right here!"  I say.

"Nothing.  I'm just watching how your arm reverberates whenever I hit it."

Jiggling fat.  Nice. 

Music Man

Both boys are making music digitally and posting it on Soundcloud.  Colby was astounded when someone he didn't know, one "Katherine Higgins", liked his song and started following him. Tonight he said "I think I need to make another techno song, because my fan liked the techno song I made.  I have to please my fan."  Singular.  Fan.  Too funny. 

Why Am I Not Surprised

Quinn in charge of cooking dinner tonight.  I heard him busily working in the kitchen while I lazed in the living room playing the piano.  My heart was full.  Work was being done without any of my input or supervision.

After awhile, Quinn asked me to come in to ask a question.  That's when I saw what was on the menu for the evening.  Peach Cobbler.  And bacon.

His perfect meal.

Maybe not the most well-rounded meal, but he made it himself!

Holy Growth Spurt, Batman!!!

Quinn and Colby have both had size 6 men's shoes since the beginning of the school year.  When Quinn's shoes disintegrated in January, I replaced them with another size 6.  When Colby's disintegrated in March, I replaced them with a size 7... to give him some extra room.  The soccer shoes I bought them last month where a men's size 8.  And they both complain that they're too SMALL.  Today, I had them both measured.  Quinn is a 9.5 and Colby is a 9.  HELLO!!!  To accommodate the rate of foot expansion, I bought a half size up for both boys... so a 10 and a 9.5.  HOLY COW.  That's FOUR SIZES in one school year!!  and THREE SIZES in the last three months!!  What the heck???

A Boy and His Dog

Selective Reading

On Friday,   Rob was out of town, and Grandpa was in charge of picking up all three kids after school while I was at work.   Quinn called me while I was with a patient, and left a message on my phone, saying "Aidan wants me to come over to his house after school.  I can just ride the bus with him."

OK.  It's a school phone he's calling on.  I can't call back. He didn't have his flip phone with him (it was sitting, uncharged, in my purse), so the only way I could  get ahold of Quinn BACK was to email him at school, and hope he had a class with access to a computer. 

This is what I wrote:  "Have Aidan's dad call me if its okay for you to spend the night.  I need to hear it from him first."

So, you tell ME.  Does anything about that email  say "go ahead and ride the bus home with the kid who wants you to come over?"  Because apparently, all Quinn read was "...its okay for you to spend the night..." and nothing more. 

He responded thusly:  "Ok good i will ride with them to their house after school"
And... just to be on the safe side.... "i called u to times to make sure".

But I didn't GET the email until after 5 pm, because .... you know.... I was working.  So it all went down without any communication to the appropriate parties.  Grandpa was waiting for three kids and only found two.  Colby had no idea where his brother was.  Grandpa called me, but only got my voicemail.  Then he called the school, and got voicemail.  Then he called the superintendent's office and got voice mail.  It was after school hours on a Friday.  No one was sticking around to answer phone calls about missing children.   When I finally had a free moment at work to see five waiting voicemails, I knew something was up.  I began frantically trying to figure out how to get ahold of Aidan's dad but he had an unlisted number.  Luckily, I didn't have to wait long before getting a phone call from him. 

"Do you happen to have an extra child over at your house?" I asked him.

"Yeah.  That was quite a surprise."

MMMMHMMMM.  Aidan had never asked his dad if Quinn could come over.   Or rather, he had casually asked his Dad the previous weekend, to which his Dad said "we'll see", but then the subject was never brought up again.   Aidan's dad had never contacted ME because he had no idea Quinn was coming over.  Resulting in poor Grandpa and Grandma being worried sick about losing one of my kids (It's okay.  We have a spare). 

Child is in trouble.

But he called me!!  Right???  And when he got home, he insisted I had told him it was alright to go to his friend's house!!  Because... that middle portion of that sentence!! 

UGH.

I called my husband down in Lansing to ask how to handle the situation.  What is the appropriate punishment to get our son to read an ENTIRE sentence, and not just the part he wants to hear?  My husband was unconcerned.  "I'm too far removed to have an opinion about this at the moment."  Seriously.  Which translates to "nobody died, everyone is accounted for, so what's the big deal?"

DOUBLE UGH.

Single parenting is for the birds, I tell you.  I don't know how people do it.  And once again, I have come to the conclusion that the 6th grade, and general Tweendom, is going to kill me.  Or something.

First Middle School Semi-Formal Dance

This was considered "dressing up" for their first semi-formal dance.  Anything that's not t-shirts and sweats is dressing up in our house.  They reportedly didn't have all THAT much fun, but did dance with one girl each.  It amazes me that they have no qualms asking girls to dance.  I remember that whole process as being earth-shattering and anxiety-filled, but they take it all in stride, the little cassanovas.

UGH

ME (walking into the boys' room to say goodnight last night): "Boys, this room is a mess!  There's clothes everywhere!"

Colby: "I know!  I love it!!  I can belly flop literally ANYWHERE and have a cushioned landing!"

And then he demonstrated.  Threw himself up in the air and landed flat on his belly.  On a pile of clothes.

Nope.  Didn't hurt.

My Son

8:00 pm on a Sunday, getting ready for bed.  I mention that Monday is March 14... Pi day. 

Colby: "OH YEAH!!  That's right!  Pi day!  I told my teacher I'd bring a pie to school tomorrow to celebrate Pi day!" 

Seriously?? NOW you remember?  As we're getting ready for bed???

Colby: "Mom, you know I have a selective memory."

OH how I know you have a selective memory, Colbyman.  He can recall the name and superpower of any mythological character.  But thinking ahead for school???? Nada.

So both boys stayed up late, and baked a last-minute pumpkin pie, well beyond bedtime.  Which, of course they LOVED, and wasn't nearly the "natural consequence" I was hoping it would be. 

Oh well.  At least he didn't remember on Monday morning in the car on the way to school!

The Root of the Problem

Mom: "Colby, for the fifth time... PRACTICE YOUR DRUMS!"
Colby: "Why now?  I've got lots of time left in the day."
Mom: "If you do it now, it's done, and you can relax the rest of the day."  (side note... "relaxing all day" is not something either one of my boys struggles with in the least).  "Then I don't have to nag you for the next six hours.  Just get it done!"
Colby: "Mom, that is future me's problem.  Not my problem."
Mom: "Well, present me needs to start kicking it into gear, so future me isn't grounded."

UGH.  THAT is the problem.  There's always a procrastination clause in everything.

Conversation In The Car

On the way to school today, with the winter bearing down on us all a little too hard:

Quinn: "Reagan, you're just annoying."
Mom: "Quinn, that is such an unkind thing to say.  That's not ok."
Quinn: "How is that any different than you calling me a picky eater?"
Mom: "You are a picky eater.  That's an objective, quantifiable and verifiable fact.  'Annoying' is a subjective opinion."
Quinn: "You can use all the big words you want, but calling me a picky eater is just as unkind as calling Reagan annoying."
Mom: "I can quantify what percentage of dinners you refuse to eat, because you do not like them.  It's like 95%"
Quinn: "Mom, I like lots of foods.  It's just the stuff YOU make that I don't like."

AND.... there it is.  Maybe I should give up cooking altogether.  The boys would be perfectly happy to survive on peanut butter and jelly sandwiches for the rest of their days.

Dad may have a thing or two to say about that, though. 

I get NO RESPECT around here.  NONE, I tell you!!!  I am the Rodney Dangerfield of mothers.

Quinn Aho: Regional Freethrow Champion

So, on a last-minute whim, Quinn decided to participate in a local Knights of Columbus Free Throw competition.  We arrived late at the gym, which was already full of really tall high-school players shooting around, slam-dunking and the like.   Quinn looked decidedly nervous.  The coach looked him over as we walked in the gym.

"What are you here for?" he asked.
Quinn didn't answer, so I did for him.  "The free throw contest?"
"And how old are you?" coach asked.
"Uhhhh..... eleven." Quinn muttered.
"Eleven?" coached asked.
"Yeah," Quinn replied.
"What's your name?"
"Quinn," he said, staring down at his toes.
"Well, Quinn," coached announced.  "Congratulations.  You just won."

HUH????

Apparently, he was the only eleven year old in his category.  So.... SCORE!  Literally!

Despite making only 3 of 15 free-throws, Quinn won a leather basketball, a certificate naming him the Regional Free-throw Champion, and a patch with his new title that could be sewn on to his jacket.  Suprisingly, he has not asked me to sew that on for him just yet.

He now moves on to the area-wide competition in a month. 

Maybe we should practice a little.

Quinn got a kick out of all of this.  On the way home, he said "So, if I go to area-wide and no one shows up, then I move on to state-wide.  After that is nationals, and the world-wide.  I could get a free trip, if no one shows up!!

Can't you see the headline, Mom?  'Quinn Aho.  He Showed Up.'"

hee hee hee.

That's a new life-time motto.  He. Showed. Up.  Yes he did.

Filed under "He Needs to do the dishes more."

After dinner, Colby asked to be excused.
Mom: "Yes.  Put the food you didn't eat in some Tupperware, and you can finish it tomorrow."
Colby: "Tupperwhat?"
Mom: "Tupperware."
Colby: "What the heck is that?"
Mom: "Tupperware?  You don't know what Tupperware is?"
Colby: "No one does.  What is that?"
Mom: "The plastic containers with the lids?"
Colby: "Oh, like that clear wrap?"
Mom: "NO!!"
Quinn: "You don't know what Tupperware is?"
Colby: "Like you do."
Quinn: "Yes.  I do.  It's this!"  And he goes into the kitchen, and digs around in my Tupperware cupboard, making a horrific mess and bringing out one rectangular container.
Colby: "Oh.  That must have a different name."
Mom: "Yes.  It does.  It's called Tupperware."

Good Grief.

Conversation In the Car

On the way to school today, Colby said something unkind to his sister.  As he tends to do.

Mom: "Colby, that was not kind."
Colby: "Well, it wasn't mean.  It just wasn't necessarily nice."
Mom: "It was mean, Colby.  You need to show kindness in order to receive kindness."
Colby: "That's totally untrue."
Mom: "No it's not.  Kindness begets kindness, and it needs to start somewhere.  You should try it sometime."
Colby: "I did.  I used to be nice all the time.  And it didn't work out so well."

Hmmmmmm.  When was that??  Sounds like there's more to that story that he's not telling me!