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.

A Pet Peeve

I'm not usually one to complain vocally, and I try to keep my posts positive; but today, I just need to vent a 'tiny cucumber bit' (to borrow a phrase from my 3rd grader.)

Our boys usually walk to school. However, since the rains drenched us this week, resurrecting Moss-lake in the front yard and bringing to life Moss-bog in the back yard, we've been driving the boys to school for the last few days. And that is mainly because we know water and boys instantly pull together faster than even the strongest magnets--and its just as difficult to separate them once they come in contact.

So for this week we open the back door, the kids buzz around and in and out of the van, until they finally get the hint as I turn on the engine. Then we drive around the block to the school parking lot to drop them off.

As we near the entrance, I'm instantly reminded why I hate driving the kids to school. There is a line of cars stretching out from the mouth of the school parking lot going in both directions. "The parking lot must be full," you think, but then notice at least a half-dozen empty parking spaces. The hold-up isn't lack of parking.

I get extremely annoyed when I realize the reason no-one can get into the parking lot is because there is a car stopped just inside the parking lot...just sitting there.

After seemingly an eternity, the back door of that car opens. An eternity later a kid jumps out. Another eternity later another kid pops out--and if you are lucky he/she will remember to close the door before bolting across the parking lot to the school. This whole time everyone else has to sit and wait.

When the car finally moves on you get excited to finally reach your goal, but alas the next person in line does the same thing. You would think they would understand just how disruptive that is because they had to wait for their predecessor. So once again everyone is held up by one car while several spaces in the parking lot starve for someone to occupy them.

I get flustered because I have to get to work and the boys need to get to their classes. I now have to adapt to an unnecessary disruption in my flow of expectations. Granted I know that getting frustrated is a choice I make--no one causes me to get frustrated; but it certainly makes it easier to choose to be content when others aren't tempting me to be frustrated.

Finally I get my hopes up of finally getting through this wait so I can get to where I need to be. I get my turn to go through! I find refuge in one of the parking spaces.

But to my dismay I am forced to wait a few eternities (accompanied by lots of prodding)....and finally my kids get out of the car.

At Home w/ Presidential Debates

I don't consider myself politically savvy in anyway, but I think its important to make good decisions when it comes to hiring the person who will lead the country over the next four years.

I enjoy watching the Presidential debates in an attempt to learn the truth about the candidates' character, positions on issues, and potential as President of the United States. The problem with debates is that you have to do a lot of mental sorting to try to figure what information is true, mostly true, exaggerated, or simply not true.

But not to worry, sorting through the debates feels like home--thanks to my children. Granted Presidential debates are conducted by professionals, but the base techniques are the same. After all adults are just little kids in bigger bodies and social networks:

1. Explain what your opponent did first. This is a classic technique often used to procrastinate your own answer. With a brother (K) crying in the distant background, we ask our obvious suspect (T), "What did you do to your brother?" T's Answer: "K wouldn't share his Lego's." We remind him of the question, "I didn't ask what he did, I asked what you did." "But K wasn't sharing."

2. "I didn't do that!" or "I didn't say that!" This technique is the hardest to not reciprocate. T runs to us in a panic: "J's going to kill me!" J: "No I'm not! I said I was mad at you!" T: "But you tried to kill me!" J: "I did not,...Idiot!" T: "I'm not an idiot, ...Stupid! Infinity and one, no tag backs."

3. Name Calling (aka: 'mud slinging'). Politicians are careful enough not to do primitive name calling directly, but they do use subtle phrases such as, "naive," "he doesn't understand," or "he's clearly ____," or "..we all know the sequel is worse than the first movie," "big boys," etc. Political ads do this freely--I guess because its not the candidate saying it directly.

4. Almost True. This is one of the harder techniques to discern because we don't always have all the source information available. That's where research sites such as http://www.factcheck.org/ or http://www.snopes.com/ becomes a valuable resource. Mom (knowing the answer): "Are you dressed and ready to go? C (hopping up and down, half paying attention): "Yes." Mom: "Are those the same clothes you wore yesterday?" C: "No, I changed my pants." Mom: "Will you please go change your shirt?"

5. The Truth. This is what I look for and believe it or not politicians sometimes use this technique. I wish politicians spent less time talking about what their opponent does/doesn't do because it takes away from telling what they themselves are going to do. How can you make a good judgement based on things 'enemies' say about each other. Give me the truth from the horses mouth, please. Back to the example in #1: "I didn't ask what he did, I asked what you did."

Thanks to the practice my kids give me, its a little bit easier to sort through these Presidential Debates.

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.

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.

Electrocution Chair

We spent the morning today at the local hospital, so my second youngest could get a mole removed. Since the bigger boys were at school, it was just my wife, my two youngest sons, and me.

The people at the hospital were very friendly and did a wonderful job of helping them feel comfortable and happy. That meant the boys were comfortable talking to the nurses.

Right after we checked in, they took my five-year-old to a small room, took his weight, and had him sit in a chair next to a blood pressure machine. As the nurse started pulling out the arm wrap and finger monitor along with all the tubes connecting it to the blood pressure machine, my four-year-old asked, nonchalantly, out loud in his high pitched little-kid voice, "Are you going to electric [electrocute] him?"

I wonder if my four-year-old remembers when I yelled at my middle son from the attic a few years ago when he tried to help me with our re-wiring project by turning on the breaker as I was connecting two black wires. ...I certainly remember.

A Child's Understanding

I asked my second oldest (9), who is also the most helpful of all my children, "Will you please get me a phillips screwdriver?"

He willingly said, "Sure!" He ran off and quickly came back sincere and apologetic, "Sorry, dad, I couldn't find a Phillips, all I could find was a Stanley screwdriver."

I just thought this picture turned out pretty cool.

This could be Seaman's view of Lewis and Clark as they looked over the ocean...

K vs. The Drinking Fountain

Here's for those of you who need a smile today. This is a video of my 5-yr-old trying to get a drink from a Drinking fountain. If the raw video doesn't make you laugh, the recording of my now 8-yr-old laughing as a baby will.