Does anybody know if Eskimos play football?

Ah, Thomas.

This adorable "little" child is going to be the death of me.

Most of you know that we're not exactly what you would call a "football" family.  In fact, one of the things I loved most from the get-go about Michael was that he wasn't a guys' guy.  He wasn't into staring at sports on TV for hours on end.  This was good for me, as I've always considered watching any televised sporting event, other than gymnastics and figure skating, to be a special form of torture.

We've watched the Superbowl once in the entire 19 years that we've been married.  The only football events we've really enjoyed going to are college games, and even then, I think we've been to one game in the 13+ years we've lived in Utah.

Enter Thomas.

Now I realize he's only three (and just barely at that), but here's the thing:

Thomas is an off-the-charts tall and big kid. 

Almost every person who comes across Thomas comments on the fact that we have a future football star.

See, it's not just that watching football doesn't interest me; it's that watching violence doesn't interest me.  And the only thing worse than watching violence would be watching my child PARTICIPATE in it.

And yet...

He's had "man hands" since the day he was born:

He has a very high tolerance for pain.  While most kids have (what I would consider to be) a normal reaction to smacking into walls, he just looks at the wall quizzically and returns to whatever destruction he was in the process of unleashing.

And when he poses for pictures, he makes a natural "gridiron" face:

 

The other day Thomas was playing out front.  Our kids usually play in the backyard and we don't see our neighbors all that frequently as we're only in the front when it's time to mow or to back out of our driveway.

Our neighbor, Mat (who likes sports), spied Thomas and made the following observation:

"Man," he said, "That kid just needs a jersey with a five and a one on it.  The kid's a natural linebacker."

Michael responded with, "Don't tell Kristin that.  She doesn't want him to play football."

Mat replied, "Keep him out of football?  That would be a federal crime.  Just wait until the coach starts pressuring her that he needs to play and Thomas starts begging to join."

So without further ado, I would like to officially announce that we are moving to the Alaskan tundra, effective immediately.  If you want to reach us, send a carrier pigeon, a telegraph, or snail mail 'cause where we're goin' there ain't no wi-fi and there ain't no football scouts.  Oh, and if you could also send parkas, that'd be great.

Oh where, oh where has my little blog gone?

I've been a little...absent from blogging for the last couple of months.  It's been crazy busy for our family!

Here goes the summer (minus birthdays 'cause I already blogged about those).

Grandpa Coach visited for Father's Day.  This was the first Father's Day I spent with him in I can't even begin to remember how long.   He was so impressed (?) by the amount of snow left (in fact, it snowed on Father's Day) that we had to snap this picture after our Father's Day brunch at Snowbird Ski Resort:

While Grandpa was here, we also took in a Salt Lake City Real soccer game.  It was actually a ton of fun.  Adam especially loved passing the Real banner overhead.

 

Adam also really enjoyed being schooled at Chess by his Grandpa.

Frankie (very bravely) read a poem that she wrote from the perspective as a child who has been abused at a Safety Fair/BACA (Bikers Against Child Abuse) anti-abuse rally.

Adam enjoyed the bouncy slide at the aforementioned safety fair (remember, I said SAFETY fair):

That is to say, he enjoyed it right up to the moment he landed on his foot, sprained it badly, and had to be carried to the car. 

The kids had a blast chasing down candy at our local Fort Herriman Days parade.  (They throw it from floats as they pass by).  Nothing like encouraging your kids to play in traffic ;-)

Not too shabby for a little local parade!

We spent some quality time at the library, and in our backyard.                              

Note the awesome swing set in the background:  It was a birthday gift to Thomas and Adam funded by the grandparents and built with the help of friends.  Lucky boys!

And, while on a family hike, we tried (somewhat unsuccessfully) to take ONE good picture of all the kids together, looking at the camera.  Instead, we got:

Eyes closed (Thomas)

Awkward expression Adam

Silly monkey Max, Adam eyes closed, Frankie fake smile, and Thomas turned around

And, finally, "It's good enough.  Let's go.  I'm being eaten alive by mosquitoes."

And so we move on to Fall:

I've been pursing my new business (purchasing precious metals - gold, silver, platinum).  Check out  my website! PGR - Platinum and Gold Refiners  My purchasing prices are phenomenal, so if you have any scrap precious metal to sell, please drop me a line!

So here's a little taste of what we've been up to in September and October:

Adam went back to public school.  And sadly, I cannot find the photo of his first day of school anywhere!  He is so happy to be back in "regular" school.  He misses spending time at home, but, he really relishes the opportunity to make friends and have social experiences.  Since I couldn't find the first day of school picture,  here's a picture of Adam (and Thomas) from earlier this summer.

Our enormous Thomas (seriously, the kid is as tall and big as a five year-old) started preschool and had his first field trip.  This little jaunt was to our local fire station.  I thought Thomas would be enthralled by the big red trucks and the noisy siren.  (Heaven knows he's the loudest member of our family).  Not so much.  Our big, giant, (not so) brave boy cried the whole time and wouldn't release his death grip on his teacher's arm.  Of course, for the week following, all he could talk about was "I go fire station wif Miss Jenny." 

Frankie went to homecoming and had a mystery dinner.  This was not a murder-mystery dinner.  This was a dinner for which we provided an encoded menu.  The kids (excuse me, teenagers) had no idea what they were ordering for each course.  They also had no idea what kind of plate or utensils or cups they were getting.  The girls unwittingly ordered their drinks in plastic sippy cups and got their dessert first.  The boys found themselves eating mashed potatoes with giant serving spoons.  Most of them got their salad dressing with their second course, and their salads as their dessert course.  They weren't allowed to hold any items from course to course.  They all seemed to enjoy it.

 

Max (aka Sven) and his betrothed (Gwen) played a lovely duet for us.

 Thomas and Max played in the pumpkin patch. 

 And Max explored...

 

  

...while Thomas emphatically refused to abandon the tractor.  

Tomorrow, we're heading to the pumpkin patch as a family and we'll carve our pumpkins as well.
We're heading into the busiest season of the year.  We told the kids their holiday wish lists had to be full and complete before Halloween, and they are. All I can say is thank heaven for Amazon!  So nice to have presents arrive and be stored in a secure brown box!


I have a fun Thomas story to share, so watch for it soon.

Thomas' 3rd birthday

Thomas... according to Thomas: What's your favorite color? Bwack. How old are you? Ummm...Thomas. What do you like to eat? Noo-doos. Are you a choo-choo? Noooo. Do you like choo-choos? No, nood-oos. Where do you like to eat? P, S, S, C, U, B Which is your favorite choo-choo? Thomas boo engine. What do you like to play? My fwends. How many friends do you have? Five What do you like to play outside? My five fwends.  It waining outside and I closed door ;hind me wight now even wet outside. Are you going to get married? Yup. Who are you going to marry? Kami. How many kids are you going to have? Nineteen. Are you going to marry Kami, or her car, or her keys? Kami car. Where are you going to live with Kami? Kami house where you bwing me. How many years are you? Two. Are you three? Yeah.

Shoo fly, don't bother me...

It's fly season in Herriman again (read:  Summer) and we are so sick of those little buzzing things bumping into our arms and legs and getting "all up in our grill."  We've become handy with our fly swatters, much to the (recently discovered) chagrin of our family's most sensitive soul.

Today's conversation with Adam:

Adam:  I'm not going to kill another fly.
Me: Okay.  Why not?
Adam: Well, you know how we have lives?
Kristin: Yeah...
Adam: How would you like to be swatted by a giant finger?

The kid does have a point.  It won't stop me from tirelessly working to eradicate the fly issue.  Perhaps I'll just save my swatting for after bedtime.

For our next vacation, can we go to... the dentist?

Adam had a checkup and a teeth cleaning with a new dentist today.  He sure is a little chatterbox.  He told jokes on his way from the lobby to the chair.  They took his x-rays and had to ask him to be quiet so they could take his pictures.  Then they leaned him back in the dentist chair.  Looking up, he spied Looney Tunes being played on the TV in the ceiling.  With a huge sigh of contentment, he put his hands behind his head and said, "Ahhh.  This is the life."

What could be better than a TV in the ceiling at your doctor's office?

"How 'bout one in your bedroom," the dental assistant NOT so wisely suggested to my son.  Yeah, sure, thanks.  And then we can get him a pony, and move into Disney World.  Thanks a lot for that suggestion, lady. 

"Yeah," said Adam, "And then I would never have to get out of bed!"

Hahahaha.  Fat chance.

And in other news...

After the dentist, we went over to our local elementary school and got Adam all signed up to go back to public school.  He has been so looking forward to going back to school.  He's aching to make new friends, have new adventures, and have some time away from Thomas the Tank.

Here in Utah, we have year-round school.  This means that at any given time, three "tracks" of students are in school, and one "track" is off.  The first three tracks started two and a half weeks ago, so we assumed that Adam would join the fourth track.  Nope.  "We've put you on C track," said the school secretary, "and they're going off track next week.  So, Adam will start school the day after Labor Day."

He cried.

Adam, I hope you always love school the way you do today.  But much like your hope for getting a TV installed in your ceiling, my hope for you continuing to have this level of passion for school is not likely to be realized.  But a boy can dream, and so can a mom.

And hopefully, one day, we can have that vacation too.  But not at the dentist's office.

Not even three and he's ready for the workforce.

Last weekend I made these really cute schedules for Frankie and Adam.  I spent a good deal of time on them, cut them out, and put them on clipboards.  I gave Frankie one for her room, and I gave Adam one for his room.  I also made one for each of them that will be posted in a central location on the first floor.  I hadn't gotten around to hanging up the first floor ones when I found this:

sitting on my desk.  Considering I don't remember making any little cut-in designs, I asked the older kids if they knew anything about it.  Of course, they didn't. 

So then I asked Thomas.  "Did you do this?"  I asked, holding up the schedule.  "Yes." he said.  Not quite sure if he quite knew what he was admitting to, I said "How did you do it?" "Scissors." he said matter-of-factly. Knowing he knows his colors, I asked, "What color scissors?" "Owange," he said (yeah, not so much).

I considered that answer inconclusive.  Wanting to see what else he'd "admit" to, I held up a piece of paper that Frankie had written dog training instructions on.  "Did you do this?" I asked.  "Ye--eesssh," he said delightedly.  "How?" I asked.  "Pe-skewel."

"Okay," I said.  I held up a typed invoice from my doctor's office.  "And did you do this?" I asked.  "Yeaahh," he responded.  "And how did you do that?" I asked.  "Because I'm type wedy fast."

Okay Thomas. Forget pre-school.  Time to hit the classifieds and earn your keep 'round here.  Anybody need a typist?

Silly Old Bear

 
Thomas hit a milestone this week.  He got to go to the theater and see his very first big-screen movie.  Our friend, Kami, took him to see the new Winnie the Pooh.

Now, for those of you who know our Thomas, you know that he's not exactly a sit still for an hour-and-a-half kind of kid.  He's not really a sit still for five minutes kind of kid.  But I hoped that the animation and simple storyline of Pooh would combine to help his restless little legs be still.

Before Kami picked him up, I had a talk with him.  "Thomas," I said, "You are going to a movie.  We don't jump or run in movies.  We sit in our seats."  "Okay mommy," he said.  "Thomas, do we run in a movie?"  "Nooo."  "Thomas, do we jump in a movie?"  "No."  "Do we sit still in a movie?"  (emphatic) "Yes!!!"

Just to be safe, I had that conversation with him once more before he left.  And then Kami had that conversation with him twice in the ten minute drive over there.  I told her to call me if there were any problems and she needed me to come get him.

The movie ended and my phone had not rung.  I called Kami (wondering if she had just dealt with my little monkey's rowdiness without calling).  "So," I said, "How'd he do?"  "Oh," said Kami, "Remember how you were worried about him sitting still?"  "Yes." (Somewhat nervously) "Well," she continued, "You do not have to worry about him sitting still in a movie."  "I don't?" "No," she said.  You don't."  "Okay." I said, somewhat surprised and relieved. "What you do have to worry about is how much he gets into the movie.  The whole time it was playing he was shouting loudly at the characters.  Every time anything went wrong, he would shout "Nooooooo!!!" at the top of his lungs.

Remember how he wanted to go to college with Steve, Joe, and Blue? I'm thinking there will soon come a time when a pre-movie conversation will involve somehow teaching Thomas that life and media are not actually one and the same.

But perhaps, I can let him stay engrossed just a little bit longer.  He may look like a five year-old, but he only gets to be almost three for a very little while.

"I don't see much sense in that," said Rabbit.  "No," said Pooh humbly, "there isn't. But there was going to be when I began it. It's just that something happened to it along the way."