first boat experience.

As mentioned before, I mostly grew up on boats in the summer time. So, when we bought our magic watercraft on wheels, I thought this would be a piece of cake. Gone was the logic thought of,

Leslie, your husband has never really been on a boat. How do you expect to know what the hell he's doing? You're going to drown out there!! Think of your children!!! Oh, the humanity!!

Nope. All gone. Instead I relied on my husband's 10min brief orientation from the previous owner to hold solid and get us through this. Mainly because as the years have ticked by he's proven to me that he is MacGyver and can fix just about anything. Minus the hot 80's mullet.

Our infamous boat-launching day, we decided to "go it alone". Meaning, we'd been warned to not do this your first time alone.

Ha! We laugh in the face of the non-believers!

Or so we thought. We arrived at the boat dock, and like a panicked school girl, I kept frantically looking back and forth like some hyped up retriever looking for his ball.

What do we do now? Do you want me to get out? Oh, God, Nate what if people are waiting for us? What if you screw up backing the trailer up and then the guy behind us is pissed and then we get gossiped about by the Official Boating Club people?

The what?

Ok, I get it. My husband set the boat down in the water with amazing ease. Overjoyed that MacGyver had soothed my first fear, the boys and I hopped out and got on the dock. Neither boy had a life jacket on and now THEY were the ones who were the hyped-up-retrievers-looking-for-their-ball. I'm standing on the dock holding the 2 white ropes as the boat came off the trailer. I pulled the boat over to the dock and was excited for my own achievement. Then Nate disappeared over the loading dock and he went to park the Tahoe.

As time ticks by my hands are turning purple from holding the ropes so tight. I mean it wasn't a yacht in a windstorm for crying out load, I was just to hold the unloaded boat at the dock.

This is our first time, I kept saying with my big Jackie O sunglasses on, and I think the strangers noticed my hyper-panicky voice. I don't think anyone really cared. This was mixed in with:

Maysen get back off the side, your brother is going to watch -- Griffin you step back too ... Mase I said to just sto--- GRIFFIN! YOU BOTH GET BACK BEFORE I SWEAR TO GOD I'M GOING TO--This is our first time ...*smile*

Minutes tick by like hours as I'm waiting for my saviour to make his way over the hill and into my view. I can now audibly hear the "sighs" of the boats behind us frustrated that I, Jackie O who is yelling at her kids non stop because she's afraid they'll slip off and drown, is indeed taking up the WHOLE DOCK.

Finally here comes Nate. And what do I see? NO, and I mean ZERO boys' life jackets or backpack (which contained emergency snacks, sunscreen, socks ... always need dry socks). It takes him what seems like forever to reach the dock, and like a dog who fetched a bone was smiling wildly at me.

Ready to go?!

Nope. You left all the crap up in the car.

Sh--

Yep. Please hurry as I'm about to panic over these kids and the irritated two guys from Grumpy Old Men behind me. Which, as of program note, in fact had to go back out into the lake, circle around, and come back because I was in the way. Score.

Now here he comes with arms full of gear. As I strap the kids so tight they can barely breath in their life jackets, we load the boat. People flood out of the woodwork, seemingly, as soon as we hop aboard.

*Grrrrrrrrrrr---*    *Grrrrrrrrrrr----*

What? You can't tell that's a dead battery noise? Well. It was. And while we tried for the next hour trying to get jumped by everyone sailing by on the water, no luck. We decided to abandon ship, and back we came into town for a nice $80 mid-Sunday afternoon snack of battery! If I had only grabbed my cellphone. I see now what people used to do before cellphones were here. Savages!

Back we go, all 20 miles back to the lake. The people have scattered, and to our relief no one had stolen our non-starting boat. Phew! Nate got the battery in, changed, and she fired right up! I was glad because I had already talked myself into believing that this boat HAD to be a pile of junk, and that we'd gotten ripped off, and the previous owner had, in fact, stolen our first born!

We enjoyed our day out on the lake, which really was only about an hour. But that was enough, as the breeze was chilly now and the sun was fading. Feeling we'd tackled the hardest part of the journey, I told Nate to go get the trailer and I'd load the boat. Nate missed the launch pad twice, should have been an omen.

I loaded the boat with ease and perfection. All except for when, thanks to the homeless guy on the dock who screamed "YOU LEFT YOUR BUOYS OUT!!", I was about to pop those babies in two. Take #2 went smoothly as well. Nate got out to crank the boat up and as we were driving up the boat ramp with smiles of triumph, Mr Homeless came running after us pointing.

"OWIEGN  KDGIJD  KJIIAASHIKJWE  KDLJIAGHIE!!!!!"

I smiled and waved, "THANK  YOU!"

**CRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRR--**

What? You didn't know that was the sound of your motor that wasn't lifted out of the water dragging on the launch pad? Oh. Well. It was. And now we are sitting high-center in the middle of the launch pad. Over much debate with whether or not I raised the motor out of the water (which I did what I was told and did) and with the help of 4 or 5 other boaters who came to help out, we remained high-centered on the launch pad and, again, in every one's way.

Dying of mortification, I just want to spread my wings and fly back into the middle of the lake away from everything, but instead I'm asked what no fat dwarf wants to be asked.

Can you get out of the boat?

Uh. Leslie here with 2ft legs and we're sitting approximately 8 feet off the ground. Right.

You've gotta be kidding me right? Where are those damn wings?

Somehow we all pile off the boat and I make the kids get into the running Tahoe while we (the guys) figure out what to do. It takes the kids exactly 4.9 seconds to remove their life jackets, seat belts, and are currently hanging from the vehicle complaining and whining like you'd just told them Santa ate the Easter Bunny.

With God's graces, they were able to push the motor up a bit and move the boat back into the lake. Now what? We still can't load it and take it out of the lake. The mystery was behind this magic black button called "Trim". Apparently we were pushing it all the way up but the motor was not coming out of the water. We were placing all bets that our faithful friend, Tim, would be home. It was Tim who had told us to not go boating alone the first time and wait for them to be available. We'll never ignore Tim again!

I left with the wild animals who had no shoes, had not eaten, and were gnawing holes in the new Tahoe seats. I look back to see solemn Nate in the boat like a developmentally challenged person with no helmet. Boat sitting quietly at the dock and we all know is going no where. I fly down the highway as the tears start to flow. What am I going to do if Tim's not home?

I pass a highway patrolman who slams on his breaks. No, I'm not speeding, don't do this to me! I rounded the hill and slid behind some semis in hopes I'd lose him, although I didn't know why I was being followed to begin with. The lights of HOME were shining at me as I took the exit and sped to The Glenn's house.

Thank you JESUS he was home! Tiffany answered the door.

Oh my God, what's wrong? Who died?!

Did I really look that bad? I blubbered out my sob story as Hero Tim changed out of his church clothes at warp speed and before I knew it, stood there, wrenches in hand. We walked to the trailer and I think I found the culprit of why the highway patrolman slammed on his breaks.
There behind the trailer was 12' of the line used to crank the boat in with. It's a 3" wide ribbon/rope and Nate had not locked it. So I'm flying passed people on the freeway at warp speed, crying, kids going nuts, all with 39 million feet of this flag waving behind me.

Tim agreed to drop me and the kids off at home, now dark, and go rescue Nate. Within 30 minutes I got a call from Nate.

Figured out the problem. Apparently there's a separate black button that raises the engine out of the water.

Thanks Tim for saving us. And we will not be attempting this again without you.

Proud.

As a parent, it is easy to get wrapped up in everyday life. I will admit that often there are times where my kids test my frustration-level more than my love-level. I know that I am not perfect and no matter how hard I do try and bite my tongue, I know my quick wick sometimes gets the best of me; I am sure I say some things that I wish I didn't. It is something that I am trying to get better at, honestly.

My sister directed me toward this poetry reader that she found online; Her newly profound interest in poetry came out of nowhere, like many of her new ideas and interests. This poem struck me more than some of the other random poems and site readings she sends me via YouTube. Perhaps its because I'm a mom. Maybe its because of her openness and honesty. Maybe its because it is so true, hidden behind some locked file cabinet in our minds, we know all of this, but yet it doesn't seem significant enough at the time. 

At the time. At "this" time is what is most important. This is the time that will count for that time down the road.

In her poem, Rachel McKibbens mentions #1 "the crumpled photo of myself in the garbage".

One sunny afternoon, Maysen was going through my drawer where I keep old photos of classmates and dusty yearbooks. Annoyed he was dragging everything out of the drawers, I barked at him to put all the stuff back and shut the drawer. 

Who is this, mom? 

That's me. (Really do I look that different?)

How old were you? Why is your hair yellow? 

I explained that the picture was when I graduated high school, right before college. As for the yellow hair, I tried to rationalize why I had over-highlighted to cover my dark roots and then my hair got too brittle and only becau--- I stopped there because the deer-in-headlights look was too much.

Nevermind. My hair was just yellow in high school. 

He sat mesmerized and as his brother approached, he beamed.

Griffy did you know this was Momma when she was graduating High School? She was 18. She even has yellow hair!

He later asked for some tape. Annoyed at having to remove 29 feet of destroyed tape from his attempts to cut a 1" piece off, I gave him the tape. I didn't think to ask what it was for. 

That night, tired and eyes watering from yawning so much, I was talked into going upstairs to lay with him. Griffin had fallen fast asleep and was audibly snoring. 

Listen to that beast! 

We both giggled, knowing it probably wasn't the best thing to condone him calling his brother a "Beast". All in all, we sat and whispered to one another. Maysen loves hearing about stories of when I was young. As he yawned, I kissed his forehead. Something caught my eye.

Taped on his headboard was my senior picture. 

Why did you tape my picture up here?

Because, mom. You're so pretty! 

He now has 2 pictures on his headboard. My senior picture from 12yrs ago, and one photo my sister took of Maysen and I when he was about 3 months old. I am holding him  up in the bathtub, while he stares at Jenn with his huge blue eyes. He thinks he looks like "a baby monkey and I'm sooo cute, mom!".

I never want to see my picture crumpled up in the garbage. I think it would be the one thing in this world that could break my heart. I hope I always make him happy enough, proud enough, to display my picture. 

Come on Summer!!

But I am afraid of the dark spots in the lake.

Jenn, the dark spots are nothing to be afraid off.

But they're deep spots. I don't like them. I don't know what's down there.


Within a few minutes of being out on the water behind our pontoon blowing full speed, she forgot about the "dark deep spots" in the lake. Although I got tired of her wigging out that fish were swimming around her feet ...

There was also the feeling we got on Fridays when we knew dad was coming home from work. And when he came home that meant we'd all load the pre-packed motorhome that was strageically parked in the "get the hell out of Dodge" position along the street pointed in the direction of travel. Pulling out of town in our motor home, with usually a friend in tow (Jenn got Charity, I got Mollie), it felt so great leaving our little town behind and headed for ..... "the lake".

We would stop at the infamous 2-story KFC for dinner. That is where I discovered Honey Mustard sauce and that instant mashed potatoes were, in fact, awesome. Then off to finish out, hoping to reach the campground before dark.

Once at the campground we'd set camp. A fire would be built; s'mores were cooked. Going to the bathhouse to shower makes me remember the smell Herbal Essence in my hair while looking up at the stars. Walking back to the motor home fresh and clean carrying towels of a girls' toiletries was a challenge. 

We'd wake up in the morning to dad already being gone fishing. Mom and Dad would come and pick us up once we woke up and jammed our fists full of chocolate covered donuts and orange juice as "breakfast" and we'd hit the lake. The sun made my freckles shine radiantly. Dad would pull us behind the boat on the "sked" until we went flying off, then he'd circle and do it again. When he was ready to fish and get rid of us, he'd take us to an island in the lake and dump us off. We girls would pretent it was an abandoned island and we were to "survive" the elements. That would last an hour, and dad would be back. Secretly we'd hope that some super-cute boys would come and flirt with the pretty 13yr olds on the deserted island. Never happened. 

Point is this: I have the greatest memories of growing up every Kansas summer at the lake. Bonds were made, memories made, so much fun was had. And I want my boys to have that. A few weeks ago we purchased a boat. This last week we purchased a new family vehicle that can pull the boat. We have absolutely wonderful friends who also have a boat and we have summer plans already set for this summer. I cannot wait to start forming those close family times with my boys ... out on the lake :) 

Cinnamon Laundry Room Flood, 2008.

I remember it like it was yesterday; 2008. Maysen was about to turn 4 and had just started that climbing and getting into every.thing. We had just finished up supper and I was cleaning up. Griffin began to get cranky and so I left the kitchen to attend to him.

That's when it all went down. Like a perfectly planned masterpiece. But not.

I hear rustling in the kitchen.

Mase? What are you in to?

Silence.

MAYSEN. What are you ...

Just then I hear what sounds like an explosion of a million tiny bead-like objects falling onto every hard surface in my kitchen. What in the world is that? Is it beads? No. I don't bead. Is it marbles? No. Too heavy for marbles.

Then I remembered: I had a brand new bag of those tiny cinnamon candy balls I had bought for Maysen's bowling ball cupcakes for his bowling party.

I rounded the corner to see his eyes as big as silver dollars holding a bag that had been ripped from end to end. You can tell the look on his face said "This is NOT what I had planned"

My husband heard my exasperated prolonged sigh that I let out.

I will get the broom.

I'm so thankful I have a husband who, not only can read my mind, but can act without seeing the destruction ahead. As I heard him stop what he was doing, he headed for the laundry room where our broom was housed. I wondered how he would maneuver around in there because I currently had it filled with laundry as I continued with my 108-load marathon laundry day. I had originally expected to hear a curse word or two come out of his mouth as he trudged around in there. Instead:

 Uh. Oh my. Umm. HONEY! SOMETHING HAS GONE TERRIBLY WRONG IN HERE!!

I stood there not knowing whether to grab my 4yr old off the counter and brave the death walk that was my cinnamon-ball covered floor like a scene off Home Alone when the burglars slip on the marble trap, or go to my husbands aid and brace for what was coming at me next.

I decided to opt for #2 as I told Mase to "hold still" as I had "an emergency to attend to". I ran to my husband's defense to whatever was attacking him in the laundry room. A few steps away from the laundry room I heard water. Like, splashing puddles of water. There stood my husband; he had pulled his pant legs up as to not get them wet has he stood, confused, in 2" of water that had flooded my laundry room floor.

The hose, which is attached to the draining system for our washer, had become dislodged from our tub-sink causing all the draining water to spill onto the floor.

GET ME MORE TOWELS .... I HATE THIS G.D. WASHER! .... HOW DID THIS HOSE COME OFF? ... I DON'T KNOW, NATHAN, DO YOU THINK I DID THIS ON PURPOSE? .... NO! I JUST DON'T KNOW HOW ALL OF A SUDDEN ....---

*ding dong*

We both stopped, frozen in time with a half-panic look on our face. What do we do now?

Is Mase still on the counter?
Oh crap, yep.

I bolted from the laundry pond to find Mase, who was by now naked from the waist down for God-only knows why, standing in the living room with the phone in his hand.

*Ding-Dong*

As I snatched Maysen up with one hand I opened the door to find a police officer standing at the door.

Someone from this residence contacted 911. Is everything ok?

Yes, officer. Just another day in the Scovil household.

Principals office #1

Ok, the first thing you'll notice is that I actually, yes, numbered this post. That is because I am fearful that this is the first of many trips to the principals office. I know that I, as a child, unfortunately became very familiar with the inside of Mr. Levin's office for various things such as: leading the entire 7th grade class down Main Street because I happened to be at the beginning of the line during an all-school walk to the high school. Mr Woodham, who was (what seemed to a 7th grader to be about 95 years old ) was the teacher in charge and the poor man was near a stroke by the time we got to the school. He was, regrettably, the same man who fell victim to Leslie Shindley's idea of a fun game called "Lets Hide From Mr Woodham" in his math class which was held right after lunch. He'd walk in, and I'd wrangled the entire class into closets and cabinets around the classroom. I'd hide in the closet directly behind his desk and as he'd enter the room, sit down and wonder "Where is my class?" I'd shoot out of the closet screaming and laugh as I watched him jump with fright. That was followed by the rest of the class bursting out and again, I'd see Mr Levin. But man was it worth it. I'm still laughing ....

However, when you have children you're supposed to teach them right, teach them the err of your ways. But, is there a certain "ornery gene" that gets passed on? Or is it karma?

Maysen doesn't "need" to ride the bus. He rides because he absolutely loves it. We live a mile from the school, so whatever. On Thursday last week his bus driver asked to speak to me when she dropped him off.

Uh Oh.

"I've been telling Maysen over and over again that he cannot stand up in the seats, or frog hop from seat to seat while the bus is moving. He really should get a citation for this, but I wanted to talk to you". Frog hop? That resulted in him being grounded from riding the bus for 2 school days.

Then yesterday I came home from a long day at work to see a mysterious envelope on my counter. "To the Parents of Maysen" so sterile, so blatant, so ... stark. The envelope was a business envelope from "Principal JR". I felt a sense of nervousness come over me as though I were the student. As I read the report marked "MAJOR ACTION" I began reading how my son "spit on other peer's food during lunch, which will result in mandatory lunch-time in Principal's office for the next 2 days". Oh Lord. Spitting?

At first he refused to tell me what happened. Tears welled up in his eyes and I could tell he was ashamed. After much prodding (and threatening of losing Wii privileges) he explained to me that his friend, D, had spit (or so he thought) on C's food, so because D is his friend, he did it too. Apparently D only "faked" spitting but Maysen had followed through. Oh the betrayal Maysen felt to find out that D had "faked me out". I have to admit I feel a  bit sorry for the poor chap, eating in the Principal's office all alone. Perhaps maybe he'll wander over and spit in JR's food if she looks away ....

Scovil Decor 2010

 Double effect courtesy of the granite counter

This is our 11 foot Christmas Tree. We have never had a tree this tall and now that we have the ceiling space for it, we thought "why not?" It was hilarious watching us decorate this thing. Nate had to rig up a broom stick with a hanger on the end of it to get the lights/ribbon strung clear up at the top. 46 trips to Bi-Mart for non-functional lights and after 7hrs we finally had it finished!

The boys were even lucky enough to get a tree for their upstairs play room. They decorated it how they wanted to and didn't do too bad for a 6 and 3yr old. Kept them entertained, so that's a score in my book!

 Part of our annual Christmas Village, courtesy of Mom and George.

Of course you can't see it here, but we have those (somewhat annoying yet fun) lights that are synchronized with the Christmas Music that belts out of the box the lights are plugged into. I'm sure our new neighbors love the seizure-causing flashes coming from next door. They then open their door to see what the chaos is, only to have "We Wish You a Merry Christmas" at 100 decibels staring them in the face. Ahhhh, the joys of the holiday. 'Tis the Season, folks!

Happy 6th Birthday, Bean.

No, I know what you're thinking and that is NOT a pile of dog poop birthday cake. It is, in fact, an active volcano, don't ya know! Can't you see the spew of hot lava flowing down the sides as it explodes from the top? (That is, by the way, melted down Cherry Jolly Rancher for the explosion part and Fruit By the Foot for the lava down the sides). Maysen turned 6 this weekend and it was filled with cheers and thrills all weekend.

My little boy's love for trains continues to this day, mainly encouraged by random YouTube videos of Amtrak and other "bullet train" videos he finds. So, what could have been more appropriate than his first Amtrak ride. We have a train station in town, so Nate's mom dropped us off and drove with Griffin to Albany (45min away) while we boarded the train...just Maysen, Nate, and I.

It was wonderful! It was such a pleasant surprise for all of us. I've been on a train here and there, but never a "mode of travel" train like Amtrak. It was smooth, it was quiet, it was sooo relaxing. In fact, we decided on that 45min train ride that this must be our newly discovered mode of traveling. Maysen fell in love with this train, never diverting his gaze out the window as he rediscovered every day images in a new way.

This foot rest ended up being the coolest thing, for all of us. Within 20min of our ride, we all 3 had them up with our seats reclined and arms behind our head. We were enjoying life .. and our McDonalds apples.

The thrills continued the next day with Science Experiment Birthday party. We did experiments with Dry Ice, Milk Swirls with food coloring & QTips, Alka-Seltzer Lava Lamps, Instant Snow, Glue Gak, Baking Soda volcanoes, and the finale were 4 Mentos Diet Coke Geysers!! It was an absolute blast!

The fun and hilarity of chaos!

Maysen and good pal, Natalie. Doesn't he look handsome here?

Part of the loot

Digging in the piles of instant snow ..

I was so happy that Dad and my step mom Jo made the jaunt from California to be at this party. It was the first one they've been able to attend and it was such a help having them here as I think we underestimated the amount of help we'd need for this caliber of party. As you can see, even the adults were enthralled.

Even though I did a run through before the party, I needed to re-read instructions for the Green Glue Gak (which we deemed "Monster Boogers"). Again ... as you can see the adults were just as intrigued...

During the last few kids, we added food coloring to our vinegar when we did the volcanoes. It was a neat change. I, regrettably don't have pictures of our Diet Coke Mentos geysers. I am trying to get a few from a few of the other parents who had cameras out. If I get some I will post them. We did them in our back yard. Nate had my dad as an assistant and all of us were safely sitting on the porch. Safely, we thought, until Nate pulled the release trigger, dropping the Mentos into the 2L bottle and the top was on crooked. The diet Coke shot out sideways shooting most of the kids. I will admit that a few parents shrieked with surprise too. It was an absolute blast and I'm sure that we will be remembering this party for quite some time. Some of Maysen's friends at school were still talking about it today ... he was so proud!

So, Happy Birthday, My Little Train Conductor. I'll love you forever ...

Go Go Mario Kart - Trick or Treat!

And this is what we wait all year for. Costumes. This year the pair decided to be Mario and Luigi from "Mario Kart". What a hoot they were!

And because they were from "Super Mario Kart", we had to be complete with the Mario Kart vehicle. They drove this hummer door-to-door all night trick-or-treating. It was an ordeal hopping in and out of this thing every 20ft, but they did it! And were excited to!!

Earlier in the day we went to the Community Center for Harvest Festivities complete with ring toss, cotton candy, cake walk, and $1 hot dogs. It was a blast. We met up with some great friends there and that completed the afternoon.

The boys were even asked to join the costume contest. They didn't win but they were sure cute up there strutting their stuff!

The afternoon was rounded off with making a trip to MiddleField Oaks to visit mom. The whole place was so excited to see these two munchkins walk in the door that we could barely leave. We played a few rounds of Go Fish with mom and then headed home to prepare for the real deal !

And it all boils down to this repetative position and phrase "Go Go Mario Kart, TRICK OR TREAT!" They said it over a hundred times last night, I'm sure. Our loot is ridiculous and I'm hoping to accidentally drop some in the trash. Oooo, wait. I'll pass it out as party favors for Maysen's upcoming birthday party. That's our next event. Two words: Science Experiements. Can you imagine the mess? Ugh.

Little Red Riding Boots

Big brothers are usually good at many things. In our house, Mase is usually the fight instigator and bully most of the time. I know he really does love his brother but he likes to put Griffin in his little-brother-place. I bought the boys slippers for this winter, as I usually get "My feet are cold!" in the mornings getting ready for school. They love wearing them and have donned the phrase "Little Red Riding Boots". At the library last week, Maysen picked "Splat the Cat" and has been reciting the book over and over. On this night, sitting by the fire, Bubba asked Griffin to sit by him as he recited, word-for-word, Splat the Cat Goes to CatSchool. They really are good pals ...

LonePine Farm 2010 .. another year.

It smelled the same as it always does; crispy breeze carrying the smell of kettle corn through the dusty parking lot as we all bailed out of the van. We parked on the field lawn - a zillion yards away from the actual farm itself. It is like we've done every year for the last 6 years. There was a sense of annoyance in me mainly because I don't necessarily enjoy crowds and this tiny little farm houses four hundred million crowded into a city block radius and no one and I mean NO ONE knows how to drive around there. But we do it ... for the kids.

We spend $5 on handfuls of feed to feed the overweight and bloated sheep and goats with the other 200 kids behind us waiting to stuff the goats as well. But the kids love it.

We revisited the genius of a creation that is the ATV roller coaster. Built only out of used parts from chairs and barrels, this $7/ticket ride is a must every year. We scoff at how much money they must rack in every single year from this thing ... but at the same time marvel in the simplicity of this gold mine ... and the kids love it.

When we finally make our way back to the pumpkin fields the kids dart in 86 different directions in search of the perfect pumpkin. Meanwhile, Nate and I are left in the dust to maneuver around vines and disintegrating pumpkins that 325 people before us have trampled on. But we do it ... for the kids.

Then there was the majorly hazardous new hay maze they had this year. They stacked hay bales 5 high and created a maze for the kids to wander through. I watched in horror while 728 kids all ran around on top of the bales with little or no parent supervision. The nurse in me was envisioning a little one getting shoved out of the way by bigger kids, little on falling over backwards and landing on head, arm, leg wrong resulting in fractures or worse. Paranoid? Admittedly a bit, probably. But still. The kids love it.

Yes. I sound a bit critical in this post. The fact is, every year it feels like a duty to our children to go. However, as I sat watching the boys getting chased by my 6'2" husband as he loomed over the hay bales pretending not to find the boys in the maze, I heard quiet whispers behind me. As I turned around I noticed this tiny older couple in their presumed 80s. I smiled as they nodded my way and asked if those were my boys. We chatted about how fun this place is and the woman, weak and tired-looking said, "You know we used to bring our 2 boys to the farm every year. They are grown and gone now but we still come to the farm every fall just to watch all the young families and reminisce." I turned around to watch my husband snatch up the boys from where they were trapped, them screaming with anticipation. It was then I realized that this wasn't a "duty". Every year we come, there might continue to be the same things. However, the boys experience it different. This year Griffin could carry his pumpkin and he wasn't scared of the roller coaster. This year Maysen wasn't afraid to feed the goats and he was able to load the pumpkins and push the wheelbarrow. Their experiences change every year there and it truly is a blessing to get to watch this transformation every year.

We walked hand in hand out of the parking lot. Maysen squeezed gently, smiled, and said "I can't wait to do it again next week!" I knew he meant "next fall". I simply smiled, "Me either, buddy. Me either."

First School Days

He always saw us take Bubba to school so there really was no explaining that this was "his" school now. Maysen has sadly graduated from our beloved Christian preschool and moved to public kindergarten. Griffin took the Scovil void Maysen left behind at the Christian preschool.

"Having" to wake up for something is a concept that Griffin has not really had to experience. So when Nate walked up those steps and gently woke him up, he was a bit flustered, but he knew he was going to school; whatever that meant.

With the parking lot filled with aflutter of nervous tots walking into the building, Griffin seemed to remember the wall of apples that greets the new children on their first day. Nate helped Griffin find his apple as he proudly sat on the bench like all the other kids to pose with this official certificate that meant HE was positively 'in school' now.

This was not an unfamiliar hallway to Griffin, as just last year Maysen was across the hall and we were trekking down this hall daily to pick up Bubba from Miss Nicole's classroom. However, he had never experienced the cries, screams, and wales that came from within his particular classroom. Nothing like the first day of "Young Preschool" cries from children whom had never been left alone before. Griffin wasn't too sure about willingly going in there.

He noticed a familiar face poke out from behind all the books; Karaline! Luckily we have great friends who have a little girl in the same class. She has been doing day care at 5Cs for a few years now, so this was a piece of cake for her. She openly hugged Griffin to show him "See, its ok!" If only it worked for a few others .. Griffin seemed to enjoy his "vacation" for the day as he thought. For when he went back the following day, Wendy was not greeted with such a welcome response. He threw himself on the ground and cried out as if torture is what was coming. Poor Wendy ... these boys are everything to her (and also not her kids) so to see her glorious baby having such a hard time was very hard for her. He was a bit clenchy on day 3 when I took him but I think by then he had realized it was going to be ok and although he shut the door behind me upon entering (such a sly dog thought that would actually keep me IN!) he begrudgingly let me go on my way. I did take a wandering peek back to see him happily playing Farm with Kara.

Next was Maysen. We had a wild week of orientations/skill review and finally last Thursday he officially started Kindergarten. I'm blessed with such a mild mannered kid. He just cruises through whatever situation is handed to him with such ease. I don't ever have to worry about him. In fact, I'm a grown adult and I had anxiety for him boarding the school bus for the first time and to him, trip up the first step and all, he smiled and there would be nothing that would get him down.

This particular picture is from the very first day of skill review, and the bus didn't come get him. It was a misunderstanding, but this picture breaks my heart when I look back at it because I know in about 5min from the time this picture was taken, the bus drove off up the street with him waving and all - and didn't pick him up. Broke my heart!

What is even more sad is that I came in right away and called, and was reassured he was on the list for taking the bus home. I picked Griffin up from school and sat outside anxiously awaiting Maysen's return on the bus. Now, it was to arrive at 11:25 so I sat with the camera, video camera ... 11:30 ...11:33 ... 11:38. I figured I'd better go in and check my messages. I heard the following: "Hi Leslie. This is Mrs. L. Maysen has been waiting for pick up since 10:55. He's now in the office waiting for you to pick him up."  You got it folks. My new little kindergartner had been waiting for his momma to pick him up for 45 min now after I reassured him after school he'd be on  the bus :( No worries - the rest of the week went just fine and he's been riding ever since!

Getting ready to go in!


"LOOK AT ALL THESE KIDS!" His little 5Cs entire school had the whole population in the school that was in this hallway. Upon really looking at this photo, I note that Maysen is not taken aback by the crowd, but he has spied a little boy with a blue Mario Brother's shirt on. Nothing like distraction ...

That's my boy ... so handsome.

Maysen went to 5Cs with these two little ones, C and C. He went straight to work on the important stuff: playing house. And so it proves it really can start at an early age. He did tell me years ago that C was his girlfriend.

Our rain is here! I took this picture because we just got our fence stained just in time. We're all ready for fall (especially me). Our small privacy fence got put up and I think now we're just ready to settle in for fall! I even walked in the rain yesterday ... true Oregonian. Hah!