Baseball, Pickles, Bars and Medals, Oh my!

Baseball, baseball and more baseball.

I am beginning to enjoy this sport. Noah's Seymour team participated in a tournament in Denmark, Wisconsin and took second place. They had fun playing the game they all love so much. Two things cross my mind when I reminisce about the tournament in Denmark.

1. Noah was stuck in a pickle
2. Riley explained, on the way home, that she is not able to go in bars.

In regards to Noah being stuck in a pickle, it was shocking and funny. The players on the the other team were throwing the ball back and forth, as if they were playing catch in their front yard. Noah was eye-balling their strategy and waffling back and forth between first and second base. Meanwhile, unbeknownst to Noah, one runner crossed home plate while he delayed the game. His nimble legs were carrying him back and forth, and his giant helmet head was turning left, right, left, right, to determine his next move. The game of catch continued. Noah's competitive edge kicked in and he was determined to win this battle. As I am standing, cheering and going nuts, Dean is laughing so hard he is crying. With the a bit of strategy, and a good eye, Noah successfully slid into second base. The pickle was conquered and runs were scored.

The other interesting story took place on the ride home. Riley explained that she is not able to go in bars. I immediately think...of course you can't go in bars. You are too little.Where does she come up with this stuff.

"No, Riley. You cannot go in bars." I respond.

"I know. I can't go in bars." Riley shares in a very matter-a-fact voice.

"You can't go in bars until you are much older. Twenty-one years old, to be exact." 

"I know. It is hard to do the bars when your hands hurt." Riley shares.

When your hands hurt? How are bars and hands hurting connected? Oh! Ding! Ding! Ding!

Riley spent most of the day playing on the monkey bars, while the boys played baseball. Her hands hurt because of her isane monkey bar workout. My daughter is not interested in frequenting the bars at the ripe old age of seven. She is disappointed because her hands hurt and she can't play on the monkey bars. 

Pickles and bars on a Saturday afternoon at the ballpark. Oh, and did I mention, Noah's team came in second place at the tournament.

Happy 10th Birthday

Happy Birthday to our competitive, quick witted young man. Welcome to double digits.

Lucky # 7

Happy 7th birthday, Miss Riley!

You sparkle and brighten our days.

Life is a whirlwind.

I have put this blog on hold for a bit. Okay, I am kidding myself. This blog has been avoided for a long time. When I think of writing, I think of being a "truth teller". I read other women's blogs that seem to make the ups and downs of daily life with kids hilarious, yet honest. I haven't figured out how to be funny or honest about the ups and downs of life lately; therefore, I have avoided the blog.
As I process how to dive back into being honest about life, I decided to share a few pictures of our life. It has been a whirlwind ride since Christmas. We were lucky enough to travel and visit my dad, brother and his family during the Christmas holiday. We have not spent Christmas with my dad, brother and family since 2009. Needless to say, it was fun to be in a "snow free" zone in the middle of winter.
The pictures are sequenced appropriately... I think.

This is our attempt at a normal family picture.

This is a better representation of our life. 

Winter involved Dance Camp for Riley and weekly dance classes.

Weekends and Thursday nights were dedicated to basketball.

Plus, Dean was an assistant coach for the team.

The boys earned third place in the Hortonville Tournament.

Celebrating Dean at the Future 15 Young Professionals Dinner

3/27 was the recital; wrapping up all of Riley's dance lessons for the school year.

The girls' performance was fabulous.

Riley's assistant dance teacher.

Riley's dance teacher, Ms. Shay.

Riley is not shy on the stage.

Friends and classmates

Why did the chicken cross the road?

To say I am a chicken would be an understatement. My daughter wants to get her ears pierced. One might think she would be nervous because it is painful; however, I am the one struggling with this new adventure.

This chicken started to cross the road. We went to the mall because that is where one goes when they want to get their ears pierced. My stomach was in knots and my brain was second guessing this decision. Riley is only getting her ears pierced, yet I am acting as if she is participating in a life altering event.

We walked through the mall, holding hands. Eventually, we found the store that has the famous princess teddy bear Riley’s friends have held when they took the leap of faith and had their ears pierced. “Mom, the bear,” squealed Riley.

That dang bear was sitting in the “ear piercing” chair with a smile on its face. It looked so innocent, yet I knew the truth. First, it is earrings, then another piercing, then a tattoo. When does it end? This chicken started to back up and return to the safe side of the road. This chicken was not ready to take a risk. However, my little chick was 100% committed to getting her ears pierced.

Somehow, some way I was going to figure out a way to convince Riley into waiting.

I calmly, yet pleadingly stated, “I don’t think we should do this today.”

“But, I want to. I want the Frozen earrings. Wait, I want the Hello Kitty earrings.” Riley responded.

“Those are pretty. What do you think of the pink flowers? I like the flowers. They will match with everything.” Now I am bartering with her…Unbelievable. This chicken needs to figure out how to get out of the store.

“Fancy! I want the flowers.” Riley agreed.

“Well, here is the deal. I think we should wait a few more days and get your ears pierced after we talk to dad. You can get the pink flowers, as well as hold the princess teddy bear when we come to get your ears pierced. But, I don’t think we should get your ears pierced today.”

As I expected, Riley was not keen on the idea of waiting; however, I worked my magic. This chicken convinced Riley to wait a few more days.

Sometime before Thanksgiving, we are going to cross the road together, chicken and chick. I am going to give Riley the freedom to make a decision for herself. She is going to teach me to let go a little bit.
We haven't crossed the road yet, but we will soon. 

The Green Screen

Dean and a new toy for work, the green screen. Each picture was taken with proper lighting and a green screen in the background. Once the photos were uploaded, all Dean had to do was insert a background of his choice. Riley was his helper and they had fun. 

One Hundred Pounds of Gold

“A child's giggle is worth one hundred pounds of gold.” 
― Amy Leigh Mercree

I agree with this statement 150%. Noah and Riley can laugh and giggle for significant chunks of time. I hear their laughter and it melts my heart. We might be driving in the car and they are singing a song in a silly voice. Genuine laughter follows their silly behavior. We might be at home and they are throwing stuffed animals back and forth. I don’t even bother asking why they are throwing stuffed animals. What is interesting is the genuine laughter that is never ending. If throwing stuffed animals is amusing, who am I to put a stop to the fun?

However, a child’s giggle can also create a boat load of stress. It is like someone flipped a light switch because the kids transform into miniature monsters. Mischievous laughter by one child means he/she is purposely irritating or annoying the other for no apparent reason.  Evil, conniving laughter by one child is followed by squawks, yelling and, “I am telling Mom,” by the other child.

My response is the typical teacher response, “How can you solve this problem?” Of course, in my perfect world, the kids understand that one sibling needs to say, “Stop being annoying.” The other kid needs to listen. Simple, right? HA HA!

Unfortunately, my world is perfectly imperfect and I usually have to coach the kids through a problem solving process, or give a direct order for them to relocate to separate rooms. This coaching/direct order process is hard and frustrating because both kids are stubborn. Giving in symbolizes losing and my kids can be sore losers when they are angry and irritated. Lucky for Dean and I, the kids typically save their miniature monster behavior for moments when we are at home. Is laughter worth one hundred pounds of gold? Not if the laughter is evil and conniving.

Most of the time Dean and I enjoy a hundred pounds of gold in laughter from our kids. However, we always make sure to save a bit of gold for days that are perfectly imperfect.