I Win

“I can swim across the pool without floaties. Can you?” Noah tauntingly asks Riley.

“No, Mom said I have to use a noodle or floatie when I am in the big pool.”  Riley responds in a very matter of fact manner.

Fast forward two days and Riley is swimming in the pool without floaties, noodles or any other device. The essence of competition is overwhelming in my family. Years ago, Noah refused to trust arm floaties as a device that could provide some independence while in the water.

Splash!

When his sister jumped in the pool with arm floaties, he quickly followed. He was unwilling to be shown up by his sister, and hastily put his faith in arm floaties to help him swim independently.

The competitive edge carries over to other activities as well. Noah successfully maneuvered across a climbing wall at the Kidspace Museum in Pasadena, California.

I kept asking, “Are you sure you don’t want to get down?”

He was firm in his response. “I will get to the end.”

While watching Noah, and waiting to save the day if he fell, I realize Riley is attempting to climb the wall. Initially, she struggled with the foot holds and hand holds, but eventually was able to hold herself on the climbing wall successfully. That is where her attempt to climb the wall ended. She quickly reverted to freak out mode.

"Get me down!" She squealed.

Needless to say, the spirit of competition drives my children to challenge each other to try new things. Luckily, Dean and I are always close by to rescue Noah or Riley if the challenge is a bit scary.

Family Night @ Lambeau Field

 

Football, fireworks, food, oh my!

Family night at Lambeau Field was a first for our family. It was Noah and Riley's first time attending a "so called" game. Okay, it was a scrimmage against other Packer players; however, it was the first time the kids had been inside the historical landmark without being guided by a tour guide.

We enjoyed the evening with 60,000 others who were there to soak in the beginning of football season. Noah asked way too many questions. Thankfully, Dean was able to answer each and every question. Riley took pictures with my cell phone camera and went to the bathroom fourteen times. Truthfully, she went to the bathroom four times, but it felt like we spent  half our time in the bathroom. I tried to convince her the lavatory was not the most exciting place, but when you have to go, you have to go.

We snuck out of  Lambeau a few minutes early to avoid getting lost in the crowd. Noah's competitive side emerged as he attempted to race Riley down the spiral walkway. Around and around we walked, jogged, or ran so we could watch the fireworks from across the street.

Success! Noah won his impromptu race and Riley was able to enjoy the fireworks.

Bug Slug

“Bug slug!” announced Noah.

Laughing to myself, I stated, “I think you mean slug bug.”

“Oh yeah, slug bug is what I meant to say,” chuckled Noah.

Visions of my brother slugging me in the car when I was much younger flooded my brain. He would slug me and I would try my hardest to locate another Volkswagen Bug. Of course, in “Kim,” fashion, I was always one step behind my brother. He would spy another bug and slug me in the arm once again.

Sadly, the slug bug game would continue with me being slugged repeatedly. I would feverishly scan the streets; looking for any hint of a Volkswagen Bug. Unfortunately, I would get sidetracked while hunting for a bug and SLUG. Out of nowhere, I would be on the receiving end of another blow to the arm.

So, the question is do I elaborate and share the rest of the rules for the slug bug game with Noah? I think not because I would probably lose. I don’t have any desire to set myself up for failure.

Questions

“Can a person without feet walk?” asked Noah, while we were riding in the car. “I am trying to tell Riley a person without feet can walk, but she does not believe me.”

Where did this question come from? What prompted Noah to ask this question? Why is he asking me such a serious question right now? We are driving to the pool. Why not ask about the pool, since we have never been to this particular pool.

Here goes…my attempt at answering Noah’s question went a little bit like this.

“Absolutely! If the person has prosthetic feet, they can walk. However, if the individual does not have prosthetic feet, they cannot walk.” I answered, hoping I told him correct information. “Noah, if the person does not have prosthetic feet, they probably use a wheel chair to get from place to place.”

All day I have been baffled by Noah’s question. Even as I write this, I am pondering what sparked Noah’s interest in this topic. Immediately my mind went to a friend and co-worker whose husband lost his legs in an accident, but we haven’t talked about their family recently. Noah is incredibly observant and inquisitive. Plus, he tends to peek over my shoulder when I am browsing Facebook. So maybe we don’t have to talk to spark questions because he is observing so much in his daily life. Simple observations in his daily life prompt numerous questions.

Then it dawned on me, Dean and I recently watched an ESPN documentary about a University of Alaska-Anchorage (UAA) athlete who lost his feet due to frostbite. Noah was in and out of the room the entire time the documentary was on television. The documentary told the story of a young college student, from overseas, who was a talented long-distance runner. His family poured their entire life savings into their son’s opportunity to attend college in the United States. Due to circumstances out of the young man’s control, he went into a severe depression and wandered deep into the wilderness during the month of November. The athlete was reported missing and many people were searching to find him. When the young man did resurface from the depths of the Alaskan wilderness, he was severely frostbitten and suffering from hypothermia. Medical teams worked feverishly to help the athlete recover from the effects of frostbite and hypothermia; resulting in the amputation of the athlete’s feet. Today, the young man has prosthetic feet and is dedicated to earning his college degree. More importantly, he is passionate about overcoming or controlling his depression and helping others who suffer from depression do the same. Maybe Noah has been thinking about and questioning what happened to the UAA athlete and all his questions are surfacing today while we drive to the pool.

Finally, to end the day, our family happened to watched a quick news clip about the Wounded Warrior Amputee Softball Team. The soldiers participating in the game lost limbs while serving our country. Noah was mesmerized while watching the soldiers play baseball. He did not even notice the players’ prosthetic limbs. What he did notice was the players’ motivation to excel while playing the game of softball.

“The soldiers playing baseball are not any different than you and me.” Dean stated in a very matter of fact manner.

Regardless of why Noah is asking me inquisitive and thought provoking questions, it is more important he understands all human beings have feelings, dreams, goals, families and so much more. It doesn’t matter the shape, size, color, faith, ability or disability of individuals in our society. What matters is we treat people with respect and kindness on a daily basis, regardless of our differences. Our differences make us unique.

No Crying in Baseball

“Being deeply loved by someone gives you strength, while loving someone deeply gives you courage.”
― Lao Tzu

“Momma, Momma!” One word I hear repeated over and over and over and over in my daily life.

 Sometimes it is followed a sense of pride, “Momma, I scored four goals in soccer tonight.”

Other times it is followed by a bit of impatience, “Momma, are we there yet?”

Today I witnessed a moment when my son experienced his first baseball injury. Normally the sight of blood will send him into a tailspin of tears, but not today.

“Momma, I have to show you my first baseball injury,” he proudly stated, while tromping through the front yard. Dean was close behind him with a twinkle in his eyes, as Noah continued to share the heroic story of his first baseball injury.

“Look,” he said, shoving his elbow under my nose, “blood.”

Mind you, I expected to see massive amounts of blood, but all I saw was a speck of red. What he claimed was a mind-boggling baseball injury, was actually a scrape with a tad bit of blood. Sometimes raspberry type scrapes hurt a lot more than cuts involving blood.

I have to give kudos to Dean because he creatively twisted the scenario in a positive direction. When the baseball injury happened, Dean was quick to help him laugh off the scrape; encouraging him to dwell on how brave he was instead. He reminded Noah he was brave for continuing to master the art of baseball. He reminded Noah he was brave for continuing to improve his baseball skills, even though it might involve injury. He reminded Noah that if you want something bad enough, you have to work for it. He reminded Noah there is no crying in baseball, (my favorite line from the movie League of Their Own).

Dean reminded Noah of all of this by saying, “Wow, you have now experienced your first baseball injury.”

The love Dean has for Noah gave Noah the strength to laugh off his injury. However, the love Noah has for Dean gave Noah the courage to buy into the first baseball injury scenario; resulting in a satisfied, yet injured seven year old boy

Seventeen Seconds

“Mom, will you time how fast I can ride my bike? I ate a lot of food for dinner, so I probably will have a lot of energy to ride really fast.”

“Sure!” I said, while pondering if I really should count or just day dream and fib a bit about how fast he can ride his bike from point A to point B.

“Start counting, Mom!” Noah yelled. Off he goes, faster than the speed of light. Well, not really, but it sure would be a site to see.

One thousand one, one thousand two, one thousand three … Yes, I really did count. One thousand four, one thousand five… I am not kidding; I really did count this way.

“Stop!” yelled the little speck, on the other side of the park, I call Noah.

“Seventeen seconds!”

A mini-arm pump, followed by an excited, “Yes, I beat my record.”

What record? I didn’t know Noah was riding to beat a record. If I recall, this is the first time we have counted how fast he can ride his bike from point A to point B. Oh well, if he is happy about it, than I am thrilled.

Tomorrow is a new day. Maybe he can try to beat his record of seventeen seconds?

Snow vs. Rain

“To laugh often and much; to win the respect of intelligent people and the affection of children; to earn the appreciation of honest critics and to endure the betrayal of false friends. To appreciate beauty; to find the best in others; to leave the world a bit better whether by a healthy child, a garden patch, or a redeemed social condition; to know that even one life has breathed easier because you have lived. This is to have succeeded.” 
― Ralph Waldo Emerson

I have been pondering the weather lately because we have not had much of a winter in the badger state. Would I rather endure the snow and cold of winter or a winter full of rain, a bit of snow and lots of puddles? Today, I realized I would rather have snow. Since Friday, it has been snowing on and off; creating a winter wonderland outside.

At our house, the afternoon started off with the kids kicking balls around the house. Not my favorite activity for the kids to take part in while inside the house. Every time a ball zooms past, my nerves cinch a little tighter. Both Dean and I sent the kids upstairs to their rooms to kick the balls around. That did not last long because Noah and Riley began to disagree, followed by arguing and then some tears.

Fast forward five minutes, the kids and I put on our snow pants, winter coats and the rest of our winter gear. For the first time this winter, we actually have some snow. Noah and Riley were playing in the puddles at the end of the driveway. Go figure! We finally have snow and they are dipping their hands in puddles to play with ice chunks. There is something about puddles that intrigues my children.

After replacing some drenched gloves, we made our way to the park in the infamous blue sled. This is the same sled Noah fell out of when he was itty bitty and face-planted in the snow. There were a lot of tears following that face-plant. Today was a completely different experience.

I felt like I was a dog pulling a sled in the Iditarod because the kids kept yelling, “Faster, faster.” Pulling a sled is fun for awhile. Noah and Riley are having a jolly old time because they are sitting pretty in the blue sled. On the other hand, I am out of breath and extremely over-heated as I endure a serious workout by tromping through the snow with 70 pounds of giggling children in tow.

Splat! I jolted forward like a bat out of hell. I spun around to find two silly kids laughing hysterically, while rolling around in the snow.

“Do it again.” They squealed.

We repeated this little adventure over and over again. I never got tired of their silly giggles. When we reached the playground equipment, the adventure on the blue sled had lost its excitement. They bolted off the sled and climbed on the playground equipment. I found a seat on one of the three dinosaurs to catch my breath.

I believe I prefer snow in the winter, rather than brown grass and puddles.