Borah Barracudas

Last year Ethan and Libby heard about Borah Swim Team.  They desperately wanted to join but the season had already started.  I was a little surprised. I had never even considered that there was a city pool swim team and if I had, I would not have entertained the notion that my kids would want to be a part of it. My kids had different ideas than mine, which is not unusual.

They really wanted to join swim team.  They begged, they pleaded, they offered to pay for the team.  I told them that if they earned half of the money, we would enroll them this summer.  They pulled weeds, mowed lawns, cleaned houses, and sold lemonade.  When registration opened my kids gave me every penny that they had promised.

We enrolled and became Borah Barracudas.  The kids had second thoughts.  I told them to give it a chance.  They went on the first day (Ethan in the pool by 8:30am and Libby by 9:15am) and they both informed me they were never going back.  It was cold, they didn't know what they were doing, and all the other kids were so, so much better.  I promised them it was going to be hard, but it would get better.  They didn't believe me.  The next day was better.  The third day was worse.  It was like a roller coaster that we paid a lot of money for.  That happened every weekday for the first two months of the summer.  What had we gotten ourselves in for?

My kids started the summer barely able to swim 25 yards.  By the end of the summer they could swim freestyle, breaststroke, backstroke, and butterfly.  They were swimming 500 yards or more each morning in practice and competing in swim meets.  By the end of the year they were still among the slowest for their age groups, but they had improved immensely.  In Ethan's first race it took him over a minute and a half to swim fifty yards freestyle and he got disqualified because he took a couple breaks in the middle.  His last race of the season he swam 50 yards in 49 seconds and looked like a machine doing it.  Both Ethan and Libby can now swim better than either of their parents.

And sometimes they even talk about doing it next year.

Five!

My little Sam is not a baby, he is not a toddler, he is not even a preschooler.  He is now just a crazy big elementary-aged kid.  A kid who is unlike any other.  He makes me want to laugh out loud and spank his little butt, frequently at the same time.  I've had to master biting the inside of my cheek and just walking away. I probably have a callous.

This year he is obsessed with SpiderMan.  He got SpiderMan sheets, SpiderMan actions figures, SpiderMan hoodies, and even SpiderMan Mr. Potato Head.  He was in heaven.

Libby put her new sewing skills to work and made him pajama shorts.  He loved them and didn't even mind that they weren't SpiderMan.

  

 Happy Birthday Little Man Sam!

Swimming with Sam

Sam is very brave at the local pool.  He gleefully puts his face in the water and tries to doggy paddle.  He will use my legs to pull himself to the bottom of the pool.  He thinks he can swim.  He cannot swim.

He was crab crawling along the wall and decided to push off into water that was over his head.  I watched him for a couple seconds to see if he could "swim" to where to water was shallower.  Instead he kept bobbing in the water.  He couldn't push up enough to get a breath before going back under. After a few bobs and no swimming, I swooped him out of the water.

"Sam, you need to stay where you can touch! You were drowning!"

With absolute calm authority he replied, "But Mom...I was wearing goggles!"

No Pictures, No Quick Catch Ups, Just Moving Forward

Like the title says, there are no pictures.  I left my camera at home and I don't even try to take pictures with my cell phone.  Number one it takes blurry pictures, number two it was mostly dead the whole time.

My mother's family had a reunion near Swan Valley, Idaho.  The last time we made it to this family's reunion, Ethan was two and Libby was a tiny baby.  It's been a while.

We started our trip on Thursday.  We were planning to leave early, but Michael had to go into work for a couple of hours.  We rearranged our schedule and decided to leave at 11:30 a.m.  What with having children and all, we finally left town at 1:30 pm.  Several hours later we were cruising down the freeway, with no towns in sight.  Michael saw black stuff flying behind the trailer and it started jumping and jiving so we pulled over to find that we had lost the tread on the tire.  Michael changed the tire in the blistering heat.  When he put the spare on, we discovered it was noticeably under inflated.  We decided to put it on and try limping to the next town 40 miles away, keeping our speed low.  Fifteen miles down the freeway the trailer started its dance again.  This time it completely shredded the tire, wrapping around the axle and grinding the bare wheel against the asphalt and rumble strip.  We got out of the car and just stood there in shock.  We unhooked the trailer, made sure everything was reasonably secure, grabbed the repairable flat and headed into American Falls.  The people there were incredibly helpful, even if they didn't have everything we needed.  Our whole family crashed in the "lounge" and ate popcorn while they fixed our tire.  They even let us bring the dog inside.  Did I mention it was well over a hundred degrees?  It was scorching.  They didn't have all the supplies we needed but they sent us back out with a new tire mounted on the old rim plus a new rim.  We drove the 25 miles back, changed the tire (Michael was getting really good at it by now, and the jack and I were becoming close friends), and resumed heading to our final destination.  It was very exciting for all when we finally reached a portion of the freeway we hadn't traveled before. 

We drove without so much as a potty stop and made it to the Les Schwab in Pocatello with an empty gas tank, full bladders, and an entire fifteen minutes before they closed for the day. They were able to put a new tire on the new rim we bought from the other store while the kids ate more popcorn.  They also kindly disposed of the shredded rim and tire we were still hauling around.  Everybody was tired and hungry, but the kids were behaving like angels.  A few minor catastrophes seems to bring out the very best in them.  I have never traveled with such calm and helpful kids.  It almost made me tear up, and I only ever tear up when I am mad and overwhelmed.  We stopped and grabbed some tacos and gas (not at the same place, we didn't need food poisoning as well) and finished our trip to the campground.  After setting up camp and eating a few snacks we all crashed for the night.

The next three days were incredible.  Most of my mother's family lives close together in Arizona and know each other very well.  I don't even know most of my cousins names, not to mention their children's and children's children's names.  When we first pulled up I wasn't even sure we were in the right place because I recognized no one.  My family was great.  They greeted our little family with love and enthusiasm and didn't mind when I asked everyone their name fourteen times.  I did not see my kids for the next three days.  When breakfast and lunch rolled around I would feed whatever kids were at the campsite and others would do the same. Occasionally the families would all gather for a meal, or an Independence Day parade (lots of kids pounding lids, little girls doing princess waves, and candy to throw.  It doesn't get much more festive), or a talent show.  Everyone had a ball.  On Sunday a mama moose even wandered into camp.  Some of the older boys went looking for her, after being told to leave her alone.  They didn't listen to us but they sure listened when that mama chased them through camp.  No one was hurt, Libby was traumatized (she wouldn't go anywhere in camp alone after that) and the boys learned a tough lesson. Wildlife is incredible but it should be left alone. 

Along with all the the great moments we also had a truly terrifying one.  Two of the older teenaged girls decided to float on tubes down Snake River toward the (absolutely incredible and beautiful) falls.  They had been warned that is was not a good idea because the Snake River is not a friendly river.  They decided they would be fine.  We were all gathered in camp just chatting when a stranger walked up.  He told us he had seen a couple of tubes float past the falls without anybody on them.  The girls' little brothers had been waiting for them and had seen the same thing.  Immediately upon seeing the empty tube this gentleman (I don't know his name) promptly called the local sheriff and took the boys back to camp.  The next twenty minutes were some of the scariest of my life.  Some people headed up to the falls while others started walking the densly vegetated river banks. Somewhere in there we said a family prayer.  Michael and I started gathering all the younger children in camp into one central area so they could be watched by grandparents while all the other adults went out searching.  After we had most of the ducks gathered in, Michael hopped on one of the kids' bikes and went off after a few missing twelve year old boys.  They made it back to camp before Michael.  My sisters and I joined the other adults looking along the river.  As I came around a bend, I saw ambulance with lights flashing, and heard hysterical girl crying.  My heart leaped with joy.  The girls were on an island in the middle of the river, sobbing.  The parents were already there.  Both girls were just fine.  One had a possible broken ankle but they were both whole.  I ran all the way back to camp with the joyous news (although my gave-birth-to-four-kids bladder wasn't too happy with all the jostling).  Most of the people at camp had already heard the news and we all just ran around hugging each other in stunned relief.  We finally thought to offer a prayer of thanksgiving and spent the next little while comforting the scared children.

We planned on leaving early Monday morning but Sunday night it decided to rain a little bit.  Then the rain turned into a monsoon.  Tent windows that had been left only slightly open led to soaked bedding.  We decided to bug out.  We threw all of our soggy things in the trailer and hit the road at 10:30 at night.  Just half an hour later, Michael and I were crouched on the side of the road, changing a flat tire on a rural highway.  The new tire we had just bought decided to just release all of its air.  The good news is Michael and I were really good at changing trailer tires by now.  I noticed the jolt killed one of our trailer lights but there wasn't much we could do.  Around 11:30 we were passing through Idaho Falls when Michael realized he was speeding around the same time a cop did.  We pulled over into the parking lot and proceeded to try to find the right papers.  It took an incredibly long time to find Michael's wallet so he could show his license.  The cop was very patient.  If you have to be pulled over I recommend the police department in Idaho Falls.  The cop was so nice it was almost pleasant.  She told us we were clocked 8 MPH over the posted speed limit and we had a tail light out.  Then she added, "I'll be honest with you.  Tonight I'm just looking for DUIs."  Michael promised he hadn't been drinking, she had him get out and "jiggle some wires" to try and fix the tail light, cautioned us that we were probably going to get pulled over again before we reached Boise for the tail light, and sent us on our way.  We made the rest of the trip without incident and finally crashed in our own beds at about 4:30am in the morning.  The trip had its ups and downs but I would do it again in a heartbeat (but I might just buy a new trailer first).
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A Blurry Valentine's Day

The day itself wasn't blurry but a little person put fingerprints all over my lens and I didn't notice.  Therefore all the pictures are blurry.

A couple weeks before Valentine's Day my girls decided they wanted to have a party.  This is problematic.  I don't do parties.  My children only have family birthday parties, and "party" only means a gathering which includes people that don't live with them coupled with food of some sort.  I don't think I have ever thrown a child's party; ever.  They also had tons of friends they wanted to invite and my house is not sized for entertaining tons of kids.  The third problem was that their friends live all over the valley. Many of their homeschool friends live 45 minutes away.  I had to explain that people weren't likely to drive for 1.5 hours just to attend a little party.  They were adamant.  We got the list down to the amount of people who would fit in the house and started planning.  Actually, I called my sister Heidi, and just had her tell me what to do.  Everyone we invited came.

We made Valentine-colored hair clips, played a get to know you game, and cooked and decorated cakes in mugs.  Meanwhile Ethan and one of his friends sat in his bedroom and watched Flubber (a movie about bad luck because the party happened to be on Friday the 13th).

The little pink flower on top of her head is one she made at the party.

Libby enjoying her cake.  I know it looks like hot cocoa but it was cake. We modified this recipe so it was just plain chocolate cake.  It's actually pretty tasty for a microwave cake.

More cake and bows.  Life was good.

The boys hiding out with cake and a movie.  They just wanted to escape all the pink.