Times Like These

It's times like these you learn to live again

It's times like these you give and give again

It's times like these you learn to love again

It's times like these time and time again

Times Like These - Foo Fighters

How many nights did my dad wait in the dance studio parking lot, past 10:00 p.m., because Carol (my dance teacher) had a choreography explosion?  How many times did my mom run all over the metro-plex, because we needed a certain something that was perfect for our costume?  My parents ventured to Lubbock for a good number of Tech games, too.  That my friends, is a LOT of dance performances!  A lot of boring, waiting around un-Godly hours, in stinky old gyms, with crappy sound systems, and crappier seats: ALL for a measly 2-3 minute performance.  Even then, the self absorbed, Jenn was probably bitchy because of a narcissistic, perfectionistic mistake that nobody noticed, anyhow.  God Bless my parents!  

Like most moms, I vowed to be active in my boys lives.  I would be ever present, cheering them on: whatever their activity. If they wanted to be professional cup stackers - I would be so into cup stacking.  I'd have a bookmarked folder on my computer of youTube cupstacking videos.  We would own a nice set of stacking cups, maybe even have a specified table.  It just so happens, they enjoy scouting.  So, guess what?  I'm a scout mom.  Yep, I donne the stylish moisture wicking, SPF shirt WITH the patches.  Sure do.  No shame.  I help plan meetings, wrangle cats boys, attend trainings, and volunteer at camps.  (I remember being jealous of all the adventurous activities the boy scouts experienced.  I already was a girl scout, but lost interest & free time after elementary school. 

Enjoy our camp pictures, please ignore my natural face.

It was so dang MUGGY.

leather working a marble bag

leather working his marble bag

who knew?

Earlier in June, a local Boy Scout troop offered a rock climbing event.  It was HOT and MUGGY, but we put on our shirts AND good attitudes, and headed out.  Liam took one look at the wall, and decided his place would be under the shade assisting in dutch oven cherry cobbler.  The scouts spent quite a while adjusting his harness (seems they weren't used to trying to fit an itty-bitty 17" waist).

patiently waiting for a snug fitting harness

amazing those skinny legs can push him up.

He's a slave to dessert.

In March, we attended Scout day at Heritage Farmstead Museum.  It depicts life in the late 19th century.  They carded wool, sat in a one room school house, 'milked' Buttermilk (a mechanical milking cow), hoed a garden, and washed some clothes on a wash board.  The boys had a blast (as usual), but concluded, we're happy and content right here in 2012, [especially after I explained all the chores they would do before AND after school].

'Buttermilk' the mechanical milking cow, go ahead, milk her.

Hand washing with a wash board.

I actually had to tell them, it was time to let the other kids have a turn.  Who knew?

I own & acknowledge - it's totally MY dream for them to go all the way in scouts.  There are few awards you can earn as a kid, that still hold merit and respect as an adult.  Somehow, Eagle scout seems much cooler than: former drill team captain.  I hope I don't become one of those parents that forces their kids to the activities the PARENTS want them to do, rather than the kids.  As long as scouting remains fun and rewarding for them, they'll continue; I will be right behind them cheering them on.  When I see their joy, excitement, and PRIDE, I realize, hours spent at trainings/meetings is worth it.  It's times like these...

Whistle While You Work

"Just whistle while you work

and cheerfully together we can tidy up the place

So hum a merry tune

It won't take long when there's a song

to help you set the place"

Whistle While You Work - Snow White

The last week of school, we had a rain forest worth of papers (of which I've yet to sort through throw out recycle).  Another assignment: cleaning the tote tray.  Dutifully, I added dish soap and guided him to the deck.  It was basically giving him soap, water in a tub, and our blessing to have a blast.  His incentive: to add 5, that's right FIVE marbles in the marble jar (a currency for first graders).  Enjoy the pics.  

Hard at work.  

For once, looking DIRECTLY at me (for a picture).  

How fabulous is that red underwear band?  So stinkin' cute! Oh, and that step stool - not just for him, it's home resides in our pantry, and I use it for the top shelf of the pantry AND cabinets - yes, the joy of being short. 

I will give him this: when he's feeling generous - he's incredibly helpful - as helpful as you'll allow!

Confession Time: When I was in first grade, I too, had to clean my tote tray.  The teachers instructed us to use a lot of elbow grease.  My mom added dish soap and sent me outside.  Before making my way out the door, I remembered: I needed elbow grease.  So, I stopped and asked her for  some elbow grease.  My mom laughed a good 5 minutes, AND let my dad in on the joke (in between trying to catch her breath) before explaining the laughter.  I, on the other hand, didn't think it was nearly as funny as they did.  To this day, I still think there should be a  household cleaner or cleaning business named: Elbow Grease.