Adventures in Shopping with Teenage Boys Part 2

The other day I was happily wandering around Target all by myself. There is a Heaven on Earth. I was looking at socks. I was deep in a debate inside my head about whether Baby needed men's socks or boys socks. He's on the cusp of wearing men's shoes. I don't think my budget can afford that but his feet aren't listening.

Right in the middle of the debate on what size socks to buy Baby a Mother and her Teenage Son walked up to the Men's Underwear Wall. Standing right in front of all that underwear the Mom turned to her Teenage Son.

"What kind of underwear do you like? You like this kind right? The boxers, not boxer briefs, made out of t-shirt material, right?" She sounded a little exasperated, frustrated, and frazzled all rolled into one slightly loud statement.

The boy, probably 13 or 14, was completely mortified that his Mom had brought him to the Men's Underwear Wall and was talking to him in a voice loud enough for anyone to hear. He answered her in a low mumbling voice, trying not to bring any more attention to himself than she had already brought. I looked around. I was the only one anywhere near them. I tried to look like I was completely absorbed in the debate about sock sizes for Baby. And while I felt a little sorry for the Teenage Boy, I totally understood his slightly exasperated, frustrated, and frazzled Mom. It was all I could do to not laugh, not at her, but  with her, not that she was laughing, but she will one day. Maybe not for 20 years when he tries to buy underwear for his boy, but one day she's going to laugh at the day she stood in front of the Men's Underwear Wall with her Teenage Son.

Adventures in Shopping with Teenage Boys

Sometimes shopping with Teenage Boys is wonderful. You're in, you're out, you're done! Hallelujiah! If it wasn't for the grocery bill boys would be the best!

And then there's the times you need to find certain clothes for the Teenage Boys. Teenage Boys don't do well shopping. Most of them abhor the whole ordeal. And so do their Moms. But there's no choice!

I took Middle Child back-to-school shopping last week. It was the highlight of my week. If I was rating it according to the lowest point of the week.

We got to the store. I had scoped the store out a few days earlier. When we came in I was excited that the sale prices had dropped even more! Wow!

And then we tried to find clothes that he liked. We were searching for shorts because after our family trip I realized he didn't have near enough to make it a whole week between wash days. That's my goal in life, to have enough clothes to make it a whole week between washings. Of course he is very particular, only plaid shorts. We searched high and low. Once we found the things he liked we tried to find them in his size. That's where the luck ended. Apparently not only do I have the most common shoe size but he has the most common waist size, severely limiting both our choices.

Finally we had a handful of clothes to try on! We headed to a fitting room. I sent him in. Another mother with her teenage son was right behind me. Middle Child headed in and I didn't see him for a minute or two. The other boy came right out.

"There's no rooms in there, there all full!" he said.

"Is there people in the rooms?" she asked.

"No, there just full of clothes."

"Well, that's just because no one puts their clothes away. They're empty rooms."

"No they're not!"

"Trust me, the rooms are empty." Which was true. There were no boys or men milling around modeling clothing for their Moms, Spouses, Girlfriends, Mistresses, or anyone else.

The boy hung his head and reluctantly went in a room. I was kind of proud of Middle Child for already figuring this out since he hadn't come back out yet.

Apparently I thanked my lucky stars a moment too soon. He came out right after this exchange with the same complaint. Before we could have the exact same conversation he headed to another fitting room. After he came out making the same complaint we then repeated the exact same conversation with the same conclusion.

We spent a good half hour trying on shorts, shorts, and more shorts. Finally we found a few he liked. After all the shorts trying on we didn't have the patience energy to try on shirts. The first Friday of school is picture day and I was hoping to get the shopping for this crossed off my list. No such luck. I was just happy to round out his shorts to an even seven. Now he can go a whole week between washes!

Stay tuned for more Adventures in Shopping with Teenage Boys.

Boy Pants

While searching around different sewing blogs I came across these.

These lovely pants came with a whole tutorial so you could make them for your kid. The saddest part? These were on a little boy.The second saddest part? They're not jammy pants. I felt so bad for him. There comes a point in your life when you need to pick up new sewing projects and quit sewing "cute"things for your kids.

Free Summer Entertainment (Almost)

Remember when we got new chairs at work?

And I brought home those HUGE boxes?

And I said I would let you know what the kids did with them?

Hours and Hours of sawing and cutting and taping later...

This is what has been concocted.

The best summer entertainment only cost me a roll of duck tape. Take that Corporate America with your Deep Pockets!

Adventures in a Box

Today at work our new chairs arrived. In big glorious boxes! With smaller boxes and pieces that came with The Big Box. I promptly volunteered to take one or two.

Of course I could only fit one Box in my car at a time.

But Baby was so incredibly excited to meet The Box.

He brought the box in the house and promptly pulled everything out. I told him if he didn't use something to throw it in the recycle bin.

He replied, as he got cozy with The Box, "There won't be anything going in the Recycle Bin!"

Stay tuned for Baby's Adventures in a Box.

What's a Boy's Best Friend?

For young boys anything that shoots projectiles is something they love. Diamonds may be a girl's best friend, but not so for a boy. They require things that shoot things. Several years ago all the boys got bows and arrows for Christmas. They were so excited! Olaf set up some targets outside for them to shoot. They didn't quite make the bullseye every time but they sure had fun trying. Olaf was excited that Middle Child seemed to like archery. At this point in time he was anti-gun. Olaf wasn't sure whose child he was raising.

Fast forward two or three months. I'm upstairs doing something important, because I'm always doing something important, even if it's an important nap. But I was awake this time, down in my room. I hear Baby crying. At this point Baby is probably three or four, still a sweet chunky thing that I could squish. I can tell from the cry that something's wrong so I hurry to find him. I get down the hall the same time he gets to the top of the stairs.

There's Blood! Pooling in his eye! Rolling down his face! Down his shirt and all over his hands! I have dealt with six or seven previous instances of head wounds needing stitches and been able to keep my calm without a problem. But this time I lost it. All that blood in his eye socket area! I couldn't tell where he was bleeding from so I assumed it was his eye. I kept expecting his eyeball to pop out at any moment! I told him to sit down.

Thank goodness Olaf was home. He was outside. I ran to the door and screamed for him to get in here right this minute! I was really losing it. Olaf could tell I was in distress and not just angry so he hurried in to see what was wrong.

He instantly saw Baby's bloody face and went into calm and controlled mode. He's so good at that. I only am up to a point and this was past that point. Just like the time Middle Child broke his arm, but I'll tell that story another day.

Olaf picked Baby up and brought him over to the kitchen sink. He got a towel wet and started wiping his face. I think he was smart enough to know his eyeball wasn't going to fall out of it's socket. After he got him cleaned up he finally found the wound. He had a nice cut in his eyebrow.

"How did you get that?" he asked.

Baby was still crying too hard to get an answer out of so we asked Calvin, cuz he was there too. Calvin got a sheepish look on his face.

"I had him hold up this blanket" and he demonstrated a very thin blanket barely held together, "so I could shoot my arrow at it. I didn't know it would go through the blanket! I'm really sorry!" And we could tell he was truly sorry he hurt his little brother. Of course he got a little lecture about not shooting arrows in the house, that's what the targets outside are for. And he swore he'd never do it ever again.

Heading to the doctor

So we loaded Baby into the car and took him in to get a couple stitches. This might have been a gluing instead of stitches. I love the glue because it just falls out, no need to remove stitches a week later. Baby still has a little scar in his eyebrow where no eyebrows grow. I love it. Whenever I look at that scar it reminds me a little of Calvin and his mischievousness. 

Holding onto Dad for comfort.

The Garden Wedding

Last weekend I had the pleasure of attending a wedding of two lovely people. One is Olaf's uncle and the other was his fiancée. They sure made a cute couple.

As I mentioned the wedding took place in a beautiful garden. I am so glad they didn't get married a week earlier. The weather was horrendously cold and wet that weekend. So while we basked in the sun I didn't mind at all that it was a little warm. I was glad it was such a beautiful day for them.

Baby was my only date for the wedding since Olaf and Middle Child were en route home from Scout Camp. But Baby was a good date. When I came out and he saw me all dressed up he exclaimed, "Mom, you're so beautiful!!!" He sure knows how to make my day.

While we were waiting for things to get started Baby was playing in the garden under a tree, trying to stay out of the sun. His heater runs about 20 degrees warmer than mine and he was hot. After I sat down in one of the chairs and he continued to play under the tree he came running over just as things were about to start.

"Mom!" in his biggest whisper possible. "There's snails here!" You would have thought he found the leprechaun's gold he was so excited. Then he ran back and played with the snails till the wedding was over and done with.

When I chanced back to see the snails I was a little surprised. They were big! And they looked Perfectly like a snail. They were cute. I didn't really want to dump salt on them anymore. Because during the wedding I had thought about it and lamented that I didn't have any salt in my purse. By this time though Baby had played with them enough that they were now friends and bringing salt into the picture would have been the equivalent of murder.

And I am not a murderess. Someone mentioned they're a nuisance because they eat leaves. All Baby heard was they eat leaves, so Baby set them on some leaves. He was just so innocent, not realizing that most grown-ups don't like snails because they eat their gardens. Everyone got a good laugh when he started setting the snails on plants so they could eat.

I was happy to attend such a beautiful wedding. The biggest success came because in Baby's mind it was a fine wedding too.

Shopping For Boys

Somehow the children keep growing. Out of things. Do they think I have a money tree hidden away somewhere that gives me money to buy them clothing and shoes? Well, they'll find out one day.

I got some sandals for Middle Child. That kid needed something new for the summer and that was the first thing to tackle on my list. I brought them home. Size 10, mens. They should have fit. But they didn't! They were too small.

So I took them back and got a 10 1/2. If those don't fit I'm going to start binding his feet so they will.

How to Shop with Boys

Last Saturday I did the unthinkable. I dragged my whole family to the big city north of me and spent the day quilt/fabric store shopping. It was awesome! It was an adventure and turned out much better than anticipated.

The morning began with all of us sleeping in until about 9am. The nice thing about fun fabric shops is that the owners are sleeper-inners also, not a single one of the stores opened before 10am! Once we got on the road we (and I mean the man in my life) "needed" to stop at Cabela's, only the largest outdoorsman store in the world or at least state. After an hour spent comparison shopping for walkie-talkie radios in the bargain cave and haggling the clerk down on the price we were finally ready to hit the first fabric store.

Once we arrived at the designated area I got out of the car as Olaf unrolled all the windows.

"Aren't you coming in?"

"No, thought I'd stay out here with the boys." Wow, he sure knows how to keep them little ones out of trouble. I ventured into the store and saw a beautiful array of Alexander Henry Halloween fabrics. After scouring the store I decided I needed a little of that. I peeked out the window at the car and saw Olaf had spread out all the walkie-talkie equipment on top of the trunk. I knew I was safe to spend a little more time if I wanted. So I finished and purchased the fun material and headed out to the car.

Next stop was lunch. Of course Middle Child, pickiest eater in the world, didn't like lunch. So Olaf got two sandwiches instead of one. Bonus for him!

We hit another quilt store while everyone waited in the car but me. This store was split in two, on separate sides of the street! They had some really cute stuff. Boys played Nintendo DS's and didn't even complain.

Then off to the next store. It had some awesome mushroom fabric from Alexander Henry. I had to have it. It was next to a Baskin Robbins. The boys had double scoop waffle cone ice creams. I think Olaf spent more on ice cream than I did on a few yards of material, and it's not cheap fabric.

The next store was Mormon Handicraft. It is inside a Deseret Book Store, which is an LDS book store. I usually avoid DB at all costs. So I headed in and for some reason the family followed this one time. I headed upstairs to check out the material. After a few moments I heard some kids downstairs. I peeked over the railing. My boys were running around the store. With Walkie Talkies in hand. They played some game of cat and mouse while I shopped. While most people were quiet and looking at church books, my boys ran amuck in the store causing all kinds of commotion. I loved it.

We were finally downtownish area. So we decided to tour the Beehive House. Brigham Young lived there and it was decorated in period pieces. It sure was a pretty place.

Then I dragged the boys to two more fabric stores. One was in a village-type, old-fashioned area with lots of cute little houses turned into stores. I headed out to find my store. While shopping in the store I heard my phone turn off. Middle Child had been watching YouTube and drained the battery. No big deal until I decided I was done. Where were the boys? Couldn't call them. So then I opened my ears and listened. I knew I would be able to hear those wild boys eventually. And I did. They had found the Petting Farm! After letting them pet little pigs and goats and all we headed to the very last quilt store. They were so relieved when it was finally over.

And to treat them all we took them to dinner at a place where the entertainment is Cliff Divers. They were enthralled. And to finish the evening we took them to the 9:30pm showing of Prince of Persia. It was good. Lots of action.

When we got in the car at midnight finally, they flipped on their DS's. I made them turn them off. They weren't happy and fought for a minute. And as soon as they closed their mouths for a minute, they zonked. But not before they thanked me for an awesome day. I may get them to go quilt/fabric store shopping again!

Update to The Big Presentation:

A little girl at church ( I guess she's not all that little, she's 8 or 9) told her Mom I'm a Movie Star since she saw me on TV! I got a really good laugh out of that one.

A Peaceful Weekend

This last Friday all the boys headed out on a campout. In Goblin Valley. Now don't be scared. It doesn't get its name from little goblins stealing children. The name comes from the rock formations that were formed in this valley eons ago.

As you can see the formations are everywhere. The boys absolutely love going on this trip every spring. They go in the spring because it's HOT in the summer. When you visit the Southwest in the summer you sweat profusely. Not so fun and comfortable like the spring.

I read that originally it was called Mushroom Valley.

I like Goblin Valley better. Sounds funner.

At night the boys run around with flashlights

and light sticks and play night games.

Then when the finally come in the daylight the next morning

they are always in amazement at what the place looks like.

Well, if they've never been before.

The shapes are one of a kind. I don't think there's

any other place on earth quite like it.

In fact, in the movie Galaxy Quest, they set the crew on an alien planet and it happens to be Goblin Valley! You can check that clip out here.

In the meantime I did some stuff that I've been working on for a while and finally finished. Whew! For Sister's Weekend this year we are making quilts. Everyone is bringing eight quilt squares and we will share them to make each of us a quilt.

This has been quite an experience for me. Once I tried to quilt something and it turned out so misshapen that I threw it away. So this time I chose a pattern that didn't have any exact measurements, it was do whatever you want. And I did. The best part is no one will know if I messed up because nothing is square! This one isn't misshapen, it just isn't trimmed perfect yet. I just didn't want any seams to come undone and ravel. That would drive me crazy!

While my weekend wasn't quite as adventurous as the boys, I got some important things accomplished and that made me very happy.

And to top it off, I made cupcakes. Delicious. I bet you're jealous of my weekend now.

I'm not the Only Girl in the World

On the route home through town there is a pretty, little, formal dress shop. She's been around for a long time. Before she was in her current shop she altered my wedding dress. Then she moved. Soon after Sister Accountant got her wedding dress altered there. And not much later when Sister-in-Law Nurse got a wedding dress, she also altered it.

Her cute shop sits on the main road to my house. And she has some big show windows with mannequins showing off dresses. She changes the dresses every few days. They are always pretty. Every day when I drive by I check out what dress she's put in the window. It's one of the things I look forward to on my drive home. I check it every day.

I live in a family of boys. They never notice what dress the mannequins are wearing any day. I so rarely have another girl in the car with I was beginning to think she dressed the mannequins just for me because no one else ever noticed them. Then one day I was in the car with a friend of mine and her girl. As we drove by the Dress Window the young girl noticed a new dress on the mannequin.

She said, "Look at that dress Mom! It's so pretty!"

I turned around and looked at her and said, "Do you look at the dresses?"

"Every time we drive by!"

Apparently other people look at the dresses too. I guess I'm surrounded by boys a little too often.

Prayers

Middle Child has started picking up on some of the common sayings in prayers within our religion. Things like:

Bless this food to strengthen and nourish our bodies

Bless us all to return home safely

Please bless the missionaries

Bless the sick and afflicted

It has been quite comical and entertaining as he pulls a new one out. Somehow the kid keeps growing up, older and bigger.

Soon after the Haiti earthquake Baby started blessing the quake victims in every single prayer. He is sweet like that. When he had a very sick Cub Scout leader he blessed her constantly. One night soon after the quake he reprimanded Middle Child for forgetting to bless the quake victims.

Middle Child replied, not to be outdone by his little brother, "I think they fall under 'sick and afflicted!'"

A New Bostaf for the Baby

Baby's birthday was just yesterday. He turned nine. I'm not quite sure how that happened. I forbid him to grow any more a couple years ago. He just keeps defying my commands. But on his birthday four years ago he got this awesome uniform. He was so excited.

And then this year they changed a few things at the studio. Now he gets to learn how to use a Bostaf. He went to a special class to learn about Bostaf safety. I know they're trying to teach the kids to not whack each other with them, but it's a nine-year-old boy. The next time Middle Child bugs him, I'm sure he'll whack him with his Bostaf. Because he got to pick out and I got to buy him his very own Bostaf. He was ecstatic. He brought it home the other day. He showed me some awesome moves with it and then I noticed a white label on the end. I went to peel it off, assuming it was the UPC code. But it wasn't. It was something much better.

It was a warning. All this time Karate instructors have been touting the benefits of Karate for children; it teaches discipline, attention, and self defense. But in all reality everyone else thinks that Karate is a High Risk Activity. Apparently Paralysis and Death can occur while using this product! I didn't know I bought him a magic wand? Hopefully he isn't struck dead the next time he picks it up for class.

Freeing Middle Child

Back in the day when I worked at the Copy Shop Olaf would watch the kids, First Born was 3 and Middle Child was almost 1. I worked days and he worked swings and we would meet in the middle and swap the children out. We had just bought our first and only house that week. Olaf had been home in the daytime painting so we could move in at the end of the week. We bought our house As-Is and it was in need of lots of TLC, but then it still is.

I got a call from Olaf. I could hear children crying in the background, not a very good sign. "You First Born needs to tell you something."

There was lots and lots of crying. First Born was sobbing, "I don't wanna tell her!" sniffle, slobber, sob. This went on for some time.

Finally Olaf got back on the phone. "What is going on there? Why is he so upset? Is he OK?"

"Yes, he is just fine. But he ruined the playpen." The pack-n-Play, the first version available in Utah. I had to have it when I was pregnant with First Born. It was twice the cost of a regular playpen but it was so cool and folded up so small. I could take it anywhere!

"I had Middle Child downstairs napping when I heard him crying because he woke up. I went down to get him and found First Born. With a knife. The sides of the playpen were shredded. And there was blood everywhere. (I had visions of movie murder scenes) I looked all over Middle Child, sure that First Born had stabbed him. But I couldn't find any blood on him. Finally I found some on First Born. Apparently First Born heard Middle Child crying and was trying to help and get him up. But as you know he's much too small to get him out. So he got the knife and cut the sides open. But unfortunately he cut his finger, but not badly. He just spread the blood everywhere so it looked like a lot more. First Born is very sorry he ruined your playpen and he's in a bit of trouble for using a knife."

And that began First Born's obsessions with knives. He loved them. He had tons. He used to sneak them out whenever he could. I remember getting a call from another Mom, "He's got 4, count them, 4, knives in his socks and underwear!"

I Want My Two Dollars

In case you forgot, last Sunday was Father's Day. And at church, as usual, the under-12 kids sang a song or two to honor their dad. Our group of youth is slowly dwindling, I counted thirteen kids singing. But they sang great and loud enough for us to hear way in the back. When they were excused it took Baby an unusually long time to reach our seats. I didn't know what took so long until I talked to a friend today.

My friend's family had been gone for the last three weeks and Middle Child had taken care of their cat and mowed the yard. After he left for Scout Camp, Baby filled in. And Baby expected payment. As he was running off the stage he spotted my friend's husband and children. He stopped mid-step, almost fell over, stepped backwards, and pointed accusingly at them.

"You're back!" he practically shouted in the middle of our mostly older, quiet, reverent congregation. "You owe me a couple bucks! I took care of your cat!" And then he sidled over to them in expectation of payment.

The poor husband was trying his best not to laugh, not to draw more attention to themselves, to shush Baby, and to get him back to his seat quietly. "We'll get you your money. We haven't forgotten you."

That must have been enough to console Baby for the day. He took off again, pounding his feet all the way down the aisle, around the corner, and down the gym floor aisle to our seats. Quiet is not part of my boys' abilities. They can do plenty of other things, but Quiet is not one of them.

By the time he reached us I was trying my darnedest not to laugh and not to be embarrassed. He was running through church! Again! And as he sat down I tried to tell him not to run through church (again!).

Not very quietly he replied, "I was just coming back to my seat," as if I accused him of a crime for which he was not guilty. And I was, the crime was the inability to be Quiet. I've almost given up, but I keep trying for some reason. One of these days the reminder may actually sink in. Probably when he has little boys of his own.

Apparently, this afternoon Baby went to my friend's house. He knocked on the door and demanded payment, again. The husband laughed and told Baby he had given the money to me. "But I haven't seen it!" He just laughed some more and told him to ask his mommy for the money. Tonight I paid Baby his two dollars.

Next week we're renting Better Off Dead and letting Baby see what happens when you're too persistent in demanding payment. It's a cult classic. For my generation.

Boys Will be Boys

When Olaf and I were dating I lived with a family we had been friends with since I was a baby. They are a very nice family and had six children, similar to the seven I grew up with. Her last three children were boys and I had never been around that many boys before. I only had two brothers and they were five or six years apart and never really played together.

These were really sweet boys. One morning the littlest one got up and gave me a hug and then went back to bed. I had to leave for work around 5:30am so no one else in the house was up when I left so I was surprised when he woke up that morning.

But nonetheless they were boys. They would run and romp and play all the time. Their bikes were on the lawn and their pants had rips in the knees by springtime. For the most part they got along great, which is miraculous considering they all shared a room together. But one afternoon I witnessed a real fistfight break out between them. There was a flurry of clothes and fists and bodies. I couldn't even see if two or three of the boys were fighting. And I just stood there unable to move, frozen to the spot, clueless as how to get them to stop before they killed themselves. Having witnessed few fights, and never between brothers, I thought for sure they would kill themselves! But their Mom heard the scuffle, came running, reached right into the middle, (how could she not be afraid of them? I was!) pulled those boys apart, and sent them to sit on their beds. I was absolutely amazed! I was in awe! She was better than Wonder Woman!

Fast forward ten years. Now I know how she did it. I've done it several times. I didn't know I had it in me before three boys, but I have reached into the middle of a fight and split it up. I never even considered being afraid like I was before children. I never realized what Motherhood does to you until I had three boys of my own. You do become Superwoman and Wonder Woman just to keep your kids alive.

The Last Easter Egg Hunt

A long time ago, before Baby was born (yeah, he's only a Baby in my eyes), we went to the Grandparents for Easter. In the past Grandma had always had an Easter Dinner that everyone attended and afterwards there was an Easter Egg Hunt for all the grandchildren and great-grandchildren. My two older boys loved it. They looked forward to it every year.

Grandma would always boil a couple dozen eggs. Then she would hide them in the yard before all the kids showed up. Olaf remembers doing this when he was a kid. I guess in years past some of the eggs hadn't been found so she resorted to making a list. She didn't want eggs turning up months later after they rotted and smelled to high heaven.

One year we headed up for Easter. We hadn't heard anything and didn't know if Grandma was doing a dinner. I think it was right after she had first been diagnosed with cancer and I knew she wasn't feeling great. But it was a good excuse to visit the grandparents, whom we all adored. When we showed up we found absolutely no extra cars in the driveway or on the street. That's ok, we weren't there to be entertained, we just wanted to see them.

We went in and visited with them and had a good time just sitting around. Grandma was in the kitchen with the two boys and I assumed she was just getting them ice cream, one of the staples at her house. But when I wandered in a little later I discovered her boiling eggs! I guess the boys had asked why there wasn't an egg hunt. Being the entertaining kind of Grandma that she was, she went to boiling eggs. After they had cooled she hid them while the boys waited in the house. The boys were so excited to get one last Easter Egg Hunt at their Grandmas. And this hunt was just for them, they didn't have to share their Grandma, or eggs, with anyone this time.

Break a Leg

Middle Child has been working on a play all year. Every Wednesday he had "Acting" class and he loved it. This year they did "Tales of the Arabian Nights."

This week all his hard work has finally come to fruition. For the past three nights we have been dutiful parents watching his play. They did a really good job with it and it is really cute. Baby has been for three nights and is still looking forward to the last night on Monday. We even brought one of his cousins to a second night of the play because she wanted to see it again. It's been really cute to see how excited Middle Child is about his play.

One of the fun things about this play (and other amateur plays too, I'm sure) is that things change every night. Middle Child has two small parts in the play and a couple of lines in each of those parts. He is a Messenger and there is another Messenger and they speak their lines in unison. The second night when he came on the other Messenger was missing! Afterwards we asked him what happened to the other boy and Middle Child said he had to go to the bathroom.

After the play I asked Middle Child if he ever got nervous up on stage. He said "No, I know my lines, I've practiced my part, I know when I'm supposed to come on, and I know how to act." It's cute how he is so confident. I wasn't that brave when I was 11!

Fight Club

Middle Child informed me that his school now has a Fight Club. They are a little behind the times as those were more popular a few years ago, but nevertheless they have one. I asked him if he was a member and he responded in the negative. That's a good thing that he's not a member, but at the same time he didn't get invited to be a member, so I don't know how that bodes for Junior High and his friend-making ability. If, by chance, there are only two or three members, then I'm not worried. But if everyone in 6th grade is a member but him, then I will begin to wonder about those social skills.

I guess I should just be thankful he's not a member because the kids were informed that if they're a member they'll get suspended. I was kind of wondering how the teachers would know who the members were until Middle Child informed me that they're supposed to tattle on the other kids if they know who the members are. And I just thought the kids duking it out at recess would be telling enough. But apparently the teachers are trying to get the kids to turn on each other, hopefully they'll get immunity or something worthwhile for the trouble they'll be in when they're discovered by the Fight Club kids.

And then I wonder what they call the Fight Club? When I asked, Middle Child said it was called "Ultimate Fighting or something. . . I have no idea what that is." We don't watch much Ultimate Fighting or Wrestling at this house. I know they're different sports, but I don't know how. I got my fill of it when I worked at the Bowling Alley Bar and they played it on the big screen every Saturday night. Currently, Middle Child is reading this over my shoulder as I type and informed me it's called TUF or something. But I just googled that and that's actually Taiwanese United Fund as found here. I guess my Know-It-All Middle Child doesn't know it all. I love proving that once in a while. I'm a Bad Mom.

The American Dream

I walked out to the mailbox and caught Baby selling a single Lifesaver in a wrapper to our neighbor for only $0.50! He saw me coming so he hurried and got the money and ran to his friend's house without acknowledging me at all, afraid I would make him give the money back. My neighbor, the sweet man that he is, begged me not to get mad at him. He told me Baby comes over regularly in warm weather, usually selling rocks. And he never wants more than $0.50. He said Baby will come up to the door and tell him "I've got some really cool rocks! Wanna buy one? It's only $0.50." To which my neighbor can't resist.

I knew he sold rocks. Last year he would get some of those sparkly white rocks from our neighbors side yard, bring them home, hit them with a hammer until they were the "right size," and then he would sell them to my poor neighbors. I thought it was pretty funny and entrepreneurial. One recently graduated high school student paid him $1.75 last summer! His mom told him that Baby'd be back for sure! Maybe that's why they moved last summer.

One year his cousin got him a Build-a-Bear which he loves. But he wanted to buy lots more clothes for him. So I helped him make some chocolate chip cookies and he went door-to-door selling 6 for $1. It was quite the bargain. He scored that time, especially when he told them what it was for, and made almost $10! Enough to buy one more outfit for that special bear of his.

It also reminds me of Calvin. He had the same entrepreneurial spirit. He used to sell rocks. My favorite was the summer he decided to go door-to-door selling Kool-Aid. He filled up two pitchers without my help. I think I was making the daycare kids lunch and told him I'd help in a minute or two and he just couldn't wait. Off he went pulling the rickety wagon with two gallons of Kool-Aid in the back. I thought for sure it would be all over the road. About ten minutes later he came back. "I forgot the sugar," he sheepishly told me. I had such a good laugh! I instructed him in how much sugar was needed for a gallon of Kool-Aid and he was off again. I think he made about $5 that day.

When he entered Middle School he was constantly selling stuff at school. He liked to make duct tape wallets and sell them to friends for a few bucks. Of course I bought the duct tape. But I didn't mind, it was a good use of his time. In 6th grade he would sell two rubberbands for a quarter. Sounds a little odd? The boys would fold paper into football shapes and play that little game where they shoot the footballs through their pal's fingers shaped into a goal post. It was great entertainment.

That same year Olaf brought a bunch of mechanical pencils home from work and Calvin loved them. He's always loved mechanical pencils and every year we had to stock up for school. So off to school Calvin went with about a dozen. A week later he asked Olaf to bring him more. We expressed our surprise at how quickly he had used them. That's when he told us he was selling them for $1! That one gave us a good laugh too. So as you can see, my children selling things is nothing new to me. They're trying to live the American Dream without the illegal alien part.