Last Summer's Trip To The Beach

Last summer the kids and I took a trip to the beach. We like listening to waves crash against the rocks.

When the water hits the rocks it sprays high into the air.

The kids enjoy climbing around on the giant rocks.

The kids found a lot of great hiding places among the rocks.

The trees on this beach are fun to climb.

While the kids climb high into the tree, I stand guard to make sure they stay safe.

We also love to meet the crabs, starfish, birds, and other friends that play at the beach.

Watching the wildlife is one of our favorite things to do at the beach.

They usually don't try to hurt us, but I am still cautious around them.

They make funny faces and act all goofy.

I can't help laughing when I hear the sounds they make.

Also, when wildlife are around, we rarely need to bring our own food.

We always have a good time at the beach.

What's Your Highest "You've Got Your Hands Full" Rating?

I'm going to cheat on this post and refer you to a post I did on our Daily Dose of Mischief blog. On that blog, we document cute and mischievous things our boys do. (Mainly so we have proof that they deserve what they get from their kids -- I know your reading this, son.)

Anyway, I know judge our experiences going out in public as a family based on a "You've Got Your Hand's Full" rating. Read about it here.

Also, here are a few more 3-d pictures--hopefully you have 3-D glasses...its like your there:

Here is a picture across the Lewis and Clark River near Ft. Clatsop.

There is no way to really explain the destruction that occurred in the forests from last month's huge wind storm. Even pictures can't capture the massiveness of the impact as forest trees either snapped like toothpicks or pulled their roots out of the ground. 3-D helps bring out a taste of the awe-inspiring power of the wind. I'll try to get more 3-d picture samples like this.

The Highlight of Last Week

Now that I've recorded some of my experiences and thoughts about the storm we had two weeks ago, I can go back to regularly (or regular random) scheduled programing with lighter topic mixed with occasional contemplative posts.

My kids never fail to surprise me. They do things I would never think of...yet when you realize their reasoning, it totally makes sense. You can read this last week's unique experience by meandering down the Moss Grove Wildlife Trail Head...

A Mixed Pair

This morning the boys got themselves dress for church while I was at meetings. They had shirts laid out, but their church pants were in the dryer.

The two older boys did alright, but as we were walking in from the parking lot, I noticed my middle son's (age 7) pants were extremely short.

After sitting down, we noticed our youngest son (age 4) was wearing pants that were too big, but not big enough for our middle son.

Fortunately, our second oldest son (age 5) was also wearing pants that were too large.

So a quick trip to the bathroom and they all came back with the right pants-- a miracle considering all the extra choices they could have made.

At Least Little People Don't Fall Far

Even though I feel bad for the little guy who is more stunned than hurt, it's still makes me laugh the way he suddently dissapears from the camera--like a cartoon.

Then as you look more closely at the smirking brother in the bottom corner of the video, you gain a whole new understanding.

A Kindergartener's Theory: Size vs. Speed

My five-year-old and I were running part way to his afternoon Kindergarten class. Amazingly, he stayed slightly ahead of me the whole time. Finally we started walking and he beamed with pride that he was able to go faster than an adult. That's when he explained to me his newly realized theory that smaller people can go faster than bigger people. Therefore the smaller you are the faster you can go.



Then he curled his fore finger into his thumb to make a small hole the size of kidney bean and said, "...a baby...this size (showing me his hand) can go faster than everybody."


This idea threw me deep into contemplation about how a tiny baby developed only to kidney bean size could speed past every other person, until the last part of his dissertation caught my attention, "...if we don't step on it..."

Adventures With Children

CHAPTER 1

The event my wife has been organizing for the past several months took place yesterday. The plan was (1) we would drop mom off at the church, (2) help her set-up, (3) go to my workplace for a few hours, (4) pick-up mom after her event, (5) go home and live happily ever after. The boys consider going to work with me a special treat because they all get to play online computer games while I get caught up on some of my work.

CHAPTER 2

Things went according to plan...until the 'help mom set-up' part (OK, so we lost on the 2nd step of the whole day.) My 7-yr-old (T), who has behaviors characteristic of Autism Spectrum Disorder, doesn't know how to deal with variation from his expectations. Immediately he started throwing a violent fit because he expecting to go straight to the office to play on the computer. I sent the rest of the four boys into the church to 'help' while I tried to calm T down before he destroyed the van.

When I got into the church my four other 'helpers' were doing everything except helping. Running around, make lots of noise. My middle son followed me in and continued his protest against helping mom and continued his attempt to manipulate me into getting what he wanted. He noticed the wreath rings sitting on a table and decided they would make good Frisbees. He decided the 'Shepherds Staff' Christmas staff example would make a great marshal arts fighting stick....filling in the gaps with yelling and calling me a liar for not taking them to the office right away.

Finally, with a growl from my wife to take the boys home, and leaving a trail of overturned chairs in his path, the boys and I left with T over my shoulder like a sack of potatoes and the other kids screaming at my sudden cancellation of going to the office until T repented the best he could.

CHAPTER 3

The whole ride home was nothing short of a Tavern Brawl of upset little people in a mini van...empty water bottles flying over the seats, crying and screaming and blaming and arguing and fist swings. The windows fogged from the steam pouring out my ears as I helplessly tried to talk (or yell, rather) the kids out of fighting each other. To add to the experience, the bridge between the church and home was up so a lone fishing boat, whose mast was probably only a few inches above the bottom of the bridge, could pass slowly underneath.

The gnashing of teeth followed into the house with the oldest in time out and me holding T to try to calm him down.

Eventually T agreed to earn the back the opportunity to go to the office by doing the dishes with me. For now, after an hour and a half of intense battle, all seemed calm. Dishes, Lunch and the trip to the Office went well. Then we went to get mom from the activity.

CHAPTER 4

Idle time is dangerous. Young boys sitting in a car seat waiting is like watching a lump of sodium start to slip into beaker of water. Eventually the potential energy reaches beyond its bounds and in an instant a quick and violent reaction occurs. Before we could reach that point, (signalled, in part, by T bursting a packet of ketchup on the seat and ceiling), I decided to let the boys 'run around' outside--at least then the violent reaction would have a wide clearance.

Next thing I know, half the kids are having an all out leaf fight...not innocent dry leaves fluttering in the wind; leaves sitting at the bottom of a puddle created from the last five days of wind and rain.

CHAPTER 5

Once a chemical reaction starts there is virtually no way to stop it--and can trigger chain reactions. No amount of verbal demands changed the dynamics of this 'party' It didn't help that they were all spread out and moving at light speed either. Soon half-empty (yes, not half-full)water bottles from the van quickly became utilized as ammunition cartridges. The idea spread like wild fire and all the boys were grabbing what they could and trying to get each other.

Regardless of any destruction to themselves or other objects, they had fun with huge smiles on their faces while I felt like gum on a the highway...run-over, over and over again, sometimes stuck on the tire and repeatedly slammed between the road and the heavy vehicle. "Passerbys" just looking on...you can only imagine what they were thinking: "glad that's not me."

CHAPTER 6

As these types of activities usually end, someone got mad, and hurt one of his brothers, and sometimes its reciprocated...or another common occurrence, the lone ranger runs in on the scene and inflicts justice on behalf of the brother who got hurt. Parental intervention resulted in most of the boys buckled in their seats and the others in the bathroom cleaning the mud and leaves off of their face.

CHAPTER 7

The adventures of the day were enough to set my 기(Qi) out of balance and I was cranky the rest of the day. And this wasn't even our regularly scheduled weekly battle!

Back to the Ten Commandments: Even though I don't mean 'kill' in any literal sense, there are those days where the Savior's fulfillment of that law to include the avoidance of anger is a little bit harder to follow. I guess that's why I like writing about these experiences because its helps me feel better about the situation and less angry about it--I can look back and see the comedy in it all. Most of the time my boys were only doing 'innocent' mischief and not hurting anybody--so I do have to give them credit where credit is due. But, this post reflect the most 'memorable' events from my perspective.

The Weekly Sabbath Day War

Sunday is our sabbath-day. The sabbath day is supposed to be a Holy, spiritual day of rest...and for the most part it is except for the weekly four-hour-war: Church and getting ready for church.

I imagine everyone understands the challenge of getting young balls of kinetic energy motivated enough to get dressed in uncomfortable clothes in anticipation of sitting through long meetings of people talking about abstract things that are hard to understand. For that matter, maybe that's exactly how you feel getting up every morning to go to work or school. Unfortunately my wife has to fight that battle alone because I'm at church early preparing for the next battle.

The next battle, for me, starts out calm and sweet and peaceful as I see five bright, shiny boys in white shirts, smiling wide as they open the glass doors of the Church to greet me. This is part of their strategy...start off disguised as sweet and reverent so the gullible parents will be thrown off guard later. (As a parent, I sadly confess, it works every time--'surely they will behave this time.')

As a precaution, we usually start out in one of the sound-wired side rooms apart from the main chapel to minimize disruption. With difficulty, they maintain their reverent disguise through the sacrament ordinance/ceremony, but once the talks start, they unleash their attack.

Its not so much an attack against us as parents, but against each other and the social laws of public places. My two oldest usually start touching each other for no apparent reason and start giggling louder and louder until one of us parents fires a counter attack, "Shhhhh!," to quiet them down. Meanwhile, another trooper quietly starts doing loops around the rows of chairs until another one starts pressing keys on the piano. This technique successfully lures at least one of us parents away from the front lines so two more kids can fight over which crayons or books to use. The kids are brilliant, there's a new battle strategy, planned or unplanned, each week.

The well-trained sniper among them is my seven year-old, middle son. Today, my wife ran into one of our friends coming out of the men's bathroom with a mop. He explained there was a river of hand soap streaming across the floor of the bathroom. My wife wondered to herself who would do such a thing, only to realize the answer before she finished the question: #3! Fortunately, our boys are generally very honest. When ask about it, #3 was stunned and speechless that such detailed knowledge came from one who wasn't there and wasn't told. The wide eyes of shock and the guilty complexion revealed the truth and #3 succumbed to the only logical response--he confessed to the crime. So we engaged in a unique father-son activity of cleaning the bathroom during the chapel meeting...or was it playing in the water, I'm confused about which event it was.

After the main chapel meeting, the boys have the opportunity to go to a class designed for their age level. Most of the troopers behave relatively well during this part of church...I'm not sure if they tired themselves out from the first hour's battle or if they have adapted to the culture of sitting through their classes and trying to follow along. In any case, I'm hopeful that they get something out of their classes and, on a more serious note, their teachers do a great job working with them.

However, our little church sniper stays active during this time. Usually, he just does his covert wiggly nervous body technique sliding back and forth across empty chairs in his row, or crawling on the floor underneath the chairs. Today, after a 15 minute attempt to get him to go to class, I saw him scoot backwards on his bum across the bench until he bumped into his class mate, then playfully pretended to bop him on the head repeatedly. This action triggered a teacher to come sit by him to minimize the damage.

He remained calm for the next half-hour or so, until the last ten minutes of church when he executed his last strategy for the Sabbath Day War. He got impatient and fled the building. You always know there is something up when a teacher from the children's classes pulls you out of your class. I've learned to expect it--I even know who its about most of the time. As I quietly walked out of my class, the teacher explained to me that #3 ran outside. I walked down the hall to see another adult staring out the glass doors, quickly glancing my direction and said somewhat passively, 'He's long gone.'

Unsurprised, I walked outside watching and listening for any signs of him. I've learned that chasing him, makes him run away faster, so my strategy is to take advantage of his tendency not wander too far from places he knows are safe. Knowing he likes to check back to verify someone is watching out for him, I applied some stealth of my own minimizing his vision of my location.

In the end we walked back to the church together and he sat the last few minutes with me in my class.

"How long 'till it's over?" he asked.

"About thirty seconds." I responded.

A few seconds later, and frustrated that the instructor was still talking, "I counted to thirty!"

"Keep counting," I said.

"Its been a minute!..."

The instructor ended, and in the middle of the closing prayer: "It's been two and a half minutes!"

"Amen." And the war was over...