Get a job, already!

I feel like one of my main jobs as a parent is to help my kids turn into responsible people. I want them to be socially conscious, informed, and I want them to understand that if they want something, they have to work hard for it.

I know this probably happens to no one else, but frequently my children will ask me for money. Sometimes they will ask for things, but even then they are really just asking for cash to spend as they please (it just happens to be my cash they want to use). In recent months, they've learned to ask if they can do something to earn X amount of dollars so they can buy whatever the thing is they need that week.

I'm okay with this. Heck, I've even been known to bribe them to get what I want ("Company is coming tomorrow. Clean your room without whining or complaining and I'll give you ten bucks"). I can usually find something for them to do to earn a few dollars and then we inevitably head to Academy.

When a friend needed someone to care for her dogs while she went to the Cotton Bowl, I volunteered the boys. I did this knowing a few things as absolute fact.

1) Keaton is the dog whisperer. And goat whisperer. And cow whisperer. And people whisperer. He's a likable person, and even animals are very drawn to him. He's also generally not intimidated by new situations or, well, pets.
2) Keaton likes jobs and hard work. Those things you don't want to do because they seem monotonous and difficult? Come get Keaton and he'll get you going. He'll laugh and speculate on the best way to do something and be awfully proud when the job is done. He's a worker.
3) Tucker really likes to be waited on. I would never call him lazy because that's not it, he's just not a lazy person. But he would definitely prefer to have someone else do the stuff that doesn't sound fun to him. Case in point: He asked me today to make him a hot pocket. I told him he knew how to do that and could make his own. He told me he wasn't that hungry.

So this job seemed like a good way to let the boys show some responsibility and make a little spending money. A little part of me thought Keaton might carry the bulk of the load, but I had high hopes. A good life lesson was to come. I was sure of it.

Earlier this week the boys and I went over to meet the dogs, Stella and Bazzle. Keaton warmed up to them right away, as expected, and Tucker stood timidly over to the side looking like he wasn't entirely sure what he'd agreed to. The dogs aren't too big, but they're not small either, and they were so excited to see guests that they were jumping and licking and barking. Stella even knocked Tucker over when he wasn't paying attention. I was kind of excited about Tucker's discomfort with the situation. It's good for him to leave his comfort zone sometimes, and he doesn't often choose to do it on his own. (To be fair, I think it's a pretty wide comfort zone, but still he enjoys staying right there in what he knows.) On the way home from the meeting, Keaton said the dogs' names over and over so he wouldn't forget them, and Tucker stared out the window with a look of concern.

On our first trip to care for the dogs, Tucker read over the instructions again and again. When we arrived at the house, he and Keaton followed the directions to the letter. While Keaton rolled around in the floor with the dogs, Tucker attempted to play with Stella by throwing her tennis ball to her. He was still a little timid, but I was impressed.

On our next visit he asked to walk the dogs, but it was raining and almost dark, and I really wasn't sure if he could handle either of them on a leash, so I didn't let him. But he made me promise to let him walk the dogs the next morning because then he could be sure they got enough exercise. He was taking this job very seriously, and I liked it.

Trip three: Keaton walked Bazzle, the calmer and smaller of the two, and then Tucker took off with Stella. They were gone for what seemed like a little too long for me, so I went outside to check on them. I called Tucker's name, but got no answer. I called again, and a teeny knot of panic started to form in my throat. Calmly I started walking up the driveway, and through the dark I could hear running feet. I knew something was terribly wrong.

I advanced faster, and just past the darkness I saw Tucker running toward me. In the split second before the teeny panic became real panic, I saw Stella running beside him. Tucker grinned, "We decided to run! I thought she could use the exercise. We keep up with each other pretty well!"

Trip four including more walks, more petting and playing, and just an all around good time for all, dogs and boys included.

I don't know if Tucker got the full gravity of this little life lesson, but it was still a good one. He was really uncomfortable, but he put in the effort and ended up having a great time and earning a little money to boot. Of course I'm proud of Keaton, too, because he did everything Tucker did, but I expected it from him. This job was right up Keaton's alley, and he did not disappoint.

And so the boys had their first job and did it incredibly well. They never complained when they had to get up early during Christmas break to care for the dogs, and they made sure to follow the instructions to the letter. Pretty impressive stuff, guys!

Book #1: Let's Pretend This Never Happened

I've decided I'd like to keep track of the books I read this year, both for quantity and to remember whether or not I like them.  The ol' blog seems like a good place to do it, so here goes.

I thought about setting a goal, like trying to read 30 books this year, but that seems silly since I could read 30 short, easy books and it wouldn't really be that impressive. So no goals here, just reviews and counting. Sounds exciting, huh?

Book #1: Let's Pretend This Never Happened by Jenny Lawson

I downloaded this book because it was a $1.99 Kindle download one day over Christmas break, and I was looking for something light and funny. Amazon billed the books as something that fans of Tina Fey and David Sedaris would enjoy, and while I've never read anything by either of them (no Sedaris. for real.  I may have to remedy that this year.) they both seem like people who would entertain me.

The book is a "mostly true memoir" of Lawson's life in rural Texas. She grew up in Wall, Texas, which is probably a little larger than my hometown from what I can tell. Her father is a taxidermist, so there are many tales of dead animals and their carcasses, and I must admit I found these pretty darn hilarious.

Here's an excerpt from the first chapter that had me rolling (it's not about dead animals, and it may be rated PG-13):
...I'd just run into my gynecologist at Starbucks and she totally looked right past me like she didn't even know me. And so I stood there wondering whether that's something she does on purpose to make her clients feel less uncomfortable, or whether she just genuinely didn't recognize me without my vagina. Either way, it's very disconcerting when people who've been inside your vagina don't acknowledge your existence. Also, I want to clarify that I don't mean "without my vagina" like I didn't have it with me at the time. I just meant that I wasn't, you know...displaying it while I was at Starbucks. That's probably understood, but I thought I should clarify, since it's the first chapter and you don't know that much about me. So just to clarify, I always have my vagina with me. It's like my American Express card. (In that I don't leave home without it. Not that I use it to buy stuff with.)

So now you have an idea about the voice of the book, very colloquial and with no topic off limits.

My favorite chapter is probably "If You Need an Arm Condom, It Might Be Time to Reevaluate Some of  Your Life Choices." It's about artificially inseminating a cow, and Trey can attest that I laughed out loud a lot during that one. She also writes about annoying her husband, being a terrible housewife, and her time working in human resources, all topics addressed with wit and humor.

The low point of the book is a chapter called "Draw Me a F@#@$ Dog" which discusses the author doing illicit drugs. She writes a note at the beginning of the chapter that her editor encouraged her to leave that chapter out and the reader can just skip it, and I have to say she should have listened to him. Not only do I not find illicit drugs funny, it also just doesn't fit with the rest of the book. It's sort of like that chapter that says, "Look!  I'm cool because I did drugs before!"  It just isn't necessary.

Overall, the book is a lovingly sarcastic retelling of life in small town Texas. I'd be lying if I didn't admit that most of the reason I liked it is because I "got it." It definitely made me a little nostalgic for my own small town upbringing. There's lots of profanity and no subject is off limits, but if you're not easily offended and want a quick, silly read (and/or if you're from Rice, Blooming Grove, or someplace similar) this will do the trick.

We are "those people"

Our kids got ipads for Christmas. From Santa.

Let me explain how we rationalized this.

First, Santa got a deal on them Thanksgiving night at Walmart. About 25% off. Second, we compared ipads to other, similar electronic devices kids might like, such as the Wii U and Nintendo 3DS. While I don't know a lot about these, they seem to me like just gaming devices. They would need games to go with them in order to be of maximum use. The ipad, on the other hand, allows them to use YouTube to learn how to make things with duck tape (or is it duct tape? the interwebs use both), listen to their music, play on First in Math, read on Raz Kids and Kindle, look up random information, watch sports highlights, watch movies both rented from Amazon and itunes and streamed through HBO Go (which does have parental controls). When you consider that the price isn't that much different (with the deal) and that no game purchases are required, the ipads seemed the logical choice for us, so we allowed Santa to go ahead and let the boys have them.

Tucker still can't believe it. He keeps saying with wonder, "Sometimes I randomly remember that I have an ipad, and I'm like 'I have an ipad' and I can't even believe it's true." They've both taken very good care of them, not leaving them sitting out in weird places and making sure they are plugged in to charge every night. (Yes, I realize it's only a week in, but they really don't want them broken any more than I do.) I have also really enjoyed the ability to take them away when appropriate. When I say, "Your ipad is mine for the rest of the day" no one argues and suddenly everyone is being nice to each other.

We set both boys up with their own itunes accounts, which you can now do without establishing a payment method so they can't buy things accidentally. You can deposit money into their accounts via gift cards, but other than that they are tied to free only downloads. No more asking if they can download games on my phone!!!!  Maybe Santa brought them ipads for my benefit?  I have been very good this year.

My niece Tiffany told us that you can actually text from an ipad, and while I've had an ipad for quite a while I never realized this. The text can go to people who have some version of iphone, and it comes from the sender's email address. The ipad also has an icon for email, so it's easy to check and send messages. Keaton has absolutely loved this!  In fact, I think he's used his ipad more for messaging than anything, sending emails and texts to grandparents and cousins (and sometimes to me in the other room).

I was happy to find this ipad contract via Twitter, and I'm working on our own version to have the boys sign. There's a rule in there about no headphones, and there are times when I would INSIST on there being headphones!

I recognize that the other reason we may seem a little crazy to some people is that our kids have access to the big ol' scary internet and email, and they are only seven and (almost) ten. My theory on that is that it won't ever be "novel" to them as they get older. I have all the passwords and they know I check what they're looking at on their devices. If they want to keep them, they will be responsible. We had a little life lesson about what "explicit lyrics" means and how they should always search for the clean version or radio edit of any songs they want to download. (Tucker loves Bruno Mars and Kanye West, so this was a very relevant conversation.) If I find music with explicit lyrics on their ipads, I'll delete it and they'll be out the cash. I may be proved wrong in years to come, but for now I feel like it's my job to teach them how to use technology appropriately, and I can't do that if I keep them away from the scary internet. I suppose we shall see.

In the mean time, feel free to whisper about how we indulge our children and refer to the kids as "spoiled" (they are). It's all true. But it doesn't make us bad people.

It just makes us "those people." hehehe  :)

Check Yes or No

My very smart, very sweet second grader always brings home graded work on Mondays in his aptly named Monday folder. Keaton is very good at math and reads like a champ!  Handwriting and spelling, however, are a little challenging for him.  I chalk a lot of it up to him being young (he'll graduate high school at 17). I hate seeing him struggle with anything, but some day (probably soon) a computer will handle all of his handwriting and spelling challenges, so I'm not too terribly uptight about it.

Today he brought home a letter he had written in class. His fantastic teacher wrote a note at the top about how great his handwriting was on this particular assignment, and I must admit I have to agree. His spelling wasn't perfect, but I could pretty easily make out all but two words. Here's what I read:

"Dear Mom and Dad from Keaton. I'm sorry for being disrespectful and for ______ you. I'll not ______ you from now on. Forgive me please. Circle no or yes."

Hmmmm....This was perplexing. I couldn't think of anything in the immediate past that he needed to write an apology letter for. There was that pantsing incident, but it's ancient history now. I asked Trey if he could figure out the words, and when he couldn't we called Keaton in to read to us.

Me: Keaton, I like your letter, but I can't make out one of the words. Can you read it to me?
Keaton: Let me see that.  Hmmm... that says "annoying"

Panic rose in my throat. Does my sweet, smart second grader think that we think he's annoying?  We are horrible, terrible people and my son is scarred for life. How did this happen?  I scanned my brain for any time I may have told him he was annoying me, and I couldn't think of any. I have regularly told the boys they are "driving me crazy," but annoying is just not a word I use with them. Clearly, however, I have damaged my son's self-confidence irreparably.

During my freak out, Trey started talking.

Trey: We don't think you're annoying! You don't annoy us!
Keaton: Yeah, I know. Maybe that's not it.
Trey: I'm sorry that you wrote that because it is not true. You aren't annoying at all!
Me (picture the lightbulb above my head): Did you mean "ignoring"?
Keaton: Yes!  That's what I wrote!  I'm sorry for ignoring you, and I won't ignore you anymore. Now you have to check yes or no.

I then flashed through telling him get in the bath get in the bath get in the bath do your reading do your reading do your reading pick up your socks pick up your socks pick up your socks, and I knew that he does, in fact, ignore me pretty regularly.

But he is sweet and smart and awesome (just ask him), so I checked yes. :)

Just Call Me "The Rev"

Just call me "The Rev." April does, and it's hilarious. Wanna know why she calls me that?

I officiated a wedding.

Back Story...
Perhaps the hardest thing about me leaving the high school was leaving my people. In eight years there, I met my best friends. I guess growing up I always had a "best friend," but people moved in and out of Rice every couple of years, so I suppose I had migrant best friends. The fact that I've had my people for almost ten years now is a Stormy record. These guys have truly seen me at my best and my worst.

And so when I left the high school world some of my people and I made a commitment to see each other regularly no matter what. I wasn't the only one who had moved on to another school, and I guess I also wasn't the only one who felt a little scared about it. Even when life is too busy to think, we find a moment or two to laugh together. I don't know what I'd do without them.

So about a year ago, Tiffany (one of my people) met this guy Josh, who, quite honestly, seemed too good to be true. I am, as it turns out, quite skeptical of other people when it comes to them dating my friends. I like to call it "protective" and "loyal" but it's probably more a version of "Crazy Stormy" than anything else. I won't completely admit to much, but there may have been Facebook stalking and twenty questions for Tiffany every time she saw him.

Soon I realized that this guy was good. In no time at all he had me rooting for him. I think the thing that really got me is that he immediately looked for ways to take care of her. He seemed to look forward to doing something nice for Tiffany or taking care of some task just so she didn't have to do it herself. Tiffany is a very independent, strong person, and I'm not exactly sure she knew what to do with this man who kept just doing stuff. He never seemed to look for payback. He only seemed to enjoy making her happy.

So somewhere along the way we all started asking if they were talking marriage. And somewhere along the way Tiffany shared that she and Josh had talked about it and what the ceremony would be like and that they'd decided I'd probably have to officiate. Of course, this brought on hysterical laughter from everyone in the room.

She was, however, quite serious. I found out exactly how serious one Friday night via a particularly sentimental text message conversation. She asked me, via text, if I would perform the ceremony.

"I would be honored!" I replied, once again via text. (I think that's what I replied. I don't actually have the text message anymore, so I'm not totally sure, but I bet it was something like that anyway.)

Then I looked at Trey and said, "Is that okay?  Is it sacrilegious?" He didn't think so, but I decided I should check with the authorities just in case. So I called my mother.

She told me of a few other people she knows who have performed wedding ceremonies who are not preachers, and we talked about how we don't believe preachers have anymore direct line to God than normal people, and we decided it would be a perfectly lovely, non-sacrilegious thing to do. (Honestly, as is customary with my mom, she said a few words, I talked a lot, she listened, I made up my mind for myself, and she was happy enough with the fact that I can make up my mind for myself.)

And so I went about the process of ordination which began with the first of three phone calls to the county courthouse. It went something like this:

"Hi, um, yes, well, I have sort of a unique situation. I have some friends who have asked me to marry them. Wait...no...not marry them but officiate their wedding to each other. And I'm not really anything like a preacher or anything. So...you hear about people getting ordained online and stuff and I think I need to do that but I really don't want to mess this up so I was wondering if you have any recommendations for how I can do that and make sure it's perfectly legal."

The response was somewhere along the lines of "whatever."

So online I went, and ordained I became through a random free church of something not Satanic (I did check for that. I was kind of paranoid.)

Then I called the courthouse again.

"So, um, yes, well, I'm going to be officiating a wedding ceremony and I'm not really a thing, like a preacher or anything, but I just got ordained online...that sounds so weird...and now I need to know what to do to register or something at the courthouse so that I can be official with the county. I have a very lovely certificate with my credentials, so what should I do with it?"

This response was something like "Eh. Just keep it."

Fast forward to one week before the wedding. I have had nightmares about Tiffany and Josh forty years from now in their rocking chairs on their front porch and one of their grandkids walks up and says, "Granny!  I've been studying our family history and I learned that you and Pappy aren't really married!  That Stormy Hickman person wasn't even official!  It's all been a scam!"

(Yes, I also think it's hilarious to think of Tiffany and Josh as Granny and Pappy.)

So I called the courthouse again and rattled off my same line of questioning. This time the lady said of my online ordination, "You're fine to sign the marriage certificate. We don't even check that stuff." I suppose I was as reassured as I was going to get.

The wedding was a very small affair, pretty much family only, and it was on Crystal Beach.  Josh and Tiffany rented a giant, beautiful white house facing the beach so that their family could stay with them. The aisle ran from the door of the house down a lovely flight of stairs and out to the beach entrance. Tiffany is perhaps the craftiest person I know, and after this weekend she should be hiring out to decorate for weddings. It was like a wedding in a magazine. Perfect.

There were only a few of us non-blood-related people attending, and we rented the beach house across the street from the wedding house for the entire weekend. Our kids spent Saturday playing in the ocean, and we took turns offering to help and relaxing and enjoying the trip. It was such a fantastic weekend away with friends!

Here's a pic of the ceremony site earlier in the day. Notice all the kids on the beach!

And are some pics of the view a little more along the time of the wedding:

We did a little practice run-through rehearsal thing at one o'clock in the afternoon, and we laughed the whole time at what a motley crew we were -- many of us still in our pajamas or covered in sand from the beach. I believe we set a record for the least stressful wedding rehearsal ever.

Six o'clock came and everyone was ready and in their places. I think Josh was a little nervous about having to talk in front of everyone and do the whole "repeat after me" business, but he seemed cool and calm. I don't think I've ever seen Tiffany look happier. She looked so full of joy and so peaceful.

I suppose I did a decent job. I started off with lots of um's and uh's. I could hear them coming out but I couldn't make them stop - sort of like having my voice taken over by a ninth grader giving his first speech. But once I got through the first prayer I think it was smooth sailing. I had moments of nervousness leading up to the ceremony, but I knew it wasn't about me. I prayed A LOT about it over the last several weeks, so I think that probably helped, too. It should also be noted that I did not cry (during the ceremony, anyway).

Josh pulled me aside at some point to thank me. He said he is always amazed at the things Tiffany's friends do for each other, and he appreciates that she has us and that he has us now, too. I told him that she would do anything for any one of us, and probably has. I was so honored that I can't even really put it into words (and you know that doesn't happen often).

I think the thing I felt most strongly about was blessing them, asking God to provide for them and keep them close through all of the ups and downs of life. I must have done it in my head a million times, but I chose not to write it down because I wanted it to be from the Spirit and not from the script. Maybe that sounds weird, but it was important to me. I'm not one to publicly pray over someone. The Methodists do that kind of a lot, and it still feels a little odd to me even after being a Methodist myself for twelve years. I think the reason it's uncomfortable to me is that I don't want to pray blessings over someone because I was told to do it. I want to do it because I feel that the Spirit leads me to do it at that moment. Offering prayer for them at their wedding was truly the highlight of the whole shindig for me. The opportunity to publicly pray over my best friend and love of her life is something I will treasure forever.

Here's a pic of the happy couple:

Sidenote: Tiffany and Josh, I truly almost prayed for "lots and lots of babies." I hope I implied it well enough. Know that the silent prayers include that. Trey would like to request a girl so he can spoil her since he didn't get one. :)

Ordinary People

One week ago today, Brazos County Constable Brian Bachmann was killed in the line of duty. An innocent bystander also lost his life, and several other people were injured. There aren't adjectives enough to describe this terrible thing.

It was an awful week. It seems like I cried constantly, and I felt silly because he had a family and close friends who deserved to cry. Children lost their dad, a wife lost her husband, police officers lost a member of their close family. My heart was -- and still is -- broken about the whole thing. Our whole community is shaken. It's awfulness overwhelms me still.

During the funeral service on Saturday, however, I felt the sun come out again.

One of the speakers mentioned that Brian was an ordinary guy.

I knew him as the Constable and a dad of one of our students. He often worked "Daddy Patrol" in the mornings, directing traffic and making sure the kids safely crossed through the parking lot. He was also instrumental in our very first major school fundraiser, volunteering to do whatever we needed him to.

I was in a PTO meeting recently when one mom said, "We just need to decide what we want the Constable to do and tell him. He's already said he'll take care of whatever we need and you know he will do anything we ask." 

Another PTO mom posted on her facebook after his death: "When I would tell Brian Bachmann what I needed help with at the school our children attended, his answer was always the same. Either 'I'll take care of that,' or, 'I've got that.' And his next words were always exactly the same as well, 'What else can I do to help?' No matter how busy he was, he always had time."

I saw him often because we also attend the same church, but the image that will forever be burned into my brain is when I stopped him before school one day to tell him how sweet and precious his daughter is. His smile then could have lit up the whole school. I will forever remember the love he had for her in that smile. 


During his service, many others mentioned things they would remember him for. A man noted that Brian had recently given his wife $50 for gas. He spent the morning of his last day following a driver to the tax office to have his registration renewed so that the driver wouldn't get another ticket on the way. Story after story was told about the little things he did all the time. If an opportunity to help someone appeared, he was the kind of guy who seized it. Every time.


Was this ordinary?


On the day he died, several area churches held prayer services that night. My family attended the one at our church, and it was full with people stunned into shock. Many law enforcement officers and first responders attended, and we prayed over them for their safety and comfort. As I watched the crowd, I noticed how many kids there were in the church. 

Teenagers almost outnumbered law enforcement officers. Our youth group was there in full force, sitting together and comforting each other. When we walked in we first saw a row of boys in their purple -- our high school's purple -- and it seemed they had just come from or were headed to practice. 


I was so taken by their presence. The shooting had been less than seven hours before, and there they were -- loads and loads of them -- supporting their friend, the Constable's son, simply by showing up. 


Could they possibly be ordinary?


During the week, I had the privilege of visiting the family, and the sheer number of people there just taking care of things was astonishing. There was an officer outside the house. Moms and dads inside making sure that school clothes had been purchased, that school schedules had been picked up, that the kids could get to practices or whatever they needed to in order to feel a little normal. People were crawling the walls just helping. 


Ordinary people. 


On Saturday as I crossed the street from my parking place to Reed Area to attend the service, I stopped in my tracks. Flags were everywhere. They seemed to sprout from the concrete in every direction. As I approached, I began to sob. Each flag was held by a member of the Patriot Guard Riders, and they stood in silence honoring a fallen officer and respecting the mourners who entered. A teacher from my school was among them. Others offered bottles of water to people as they entered the building. 

Regular, ordinary people. Just there. 


The service was filled with law enforcement officers and first responders from near and far. I sat next to a sheriff's deputy from Fort Hood County. I saw police cars from Corsicana, Magnolia, The Woodlands, Louisiana, and countless other places. Some of these people likely knew Brian, but I'm certain that many of them did not. They simply know what it's like to risk your life to keep people safe, and they know what it's like to feel loss. And they showed up. 


They were regular men and women. 


As the funeral procession advanced from Reed Area to the funeral home, the people of our city lined the streets to honor one of our own who gave his life in trying to keep us safe. The fire department suspended an American flag across the road. It was such a demonstration of a community coming together to lift each other up and just love on each other. I still look at the photos in awe. 

Photos of ordinary people who wanted to support each other. 


At the conclusion of the service, as I left the building with thousands of others, the air filled with the unique mix of rain and sunshine. The sun's rays beamed through fat, replenishing drops of much needed rain. It was so strangely appropriate. A scripture from the service echoed through my mind as I relished the rain on the way to my car. 


Micah 6: 6-8: 
With what shall I come before the Lord, and bow myself before God on high? Shall I come before him with burnt offerings, with calves a year old? Will the Lord be pleased with  thousands of rams, with ten thousand rivers of oil? Shall I give my firstborn for my transgression, the fruit of my body for the sin of my soul? He has told you, O man, what is good; and what does the Lord require of you but to do justice, and to love kindness, and to walk humbly with your God?  

I thought of all the people, all of the thousands of people in our community who were willing to use whatever gifts they had to step in and to help, support, love, honor, and display kindness to one another during this horrible, horrible week. 

In that moment I realized that ordinary people all around me were doing extraordinary things. I didn't know all of them, but they were my people, and we would always, always take care of each other. I believed again in that moment that God made people to be inherently good and kind. I wanted to be that person, like Brian, who looks for places to help and just does it -- just shows up and says, "I'm on it." I looked around me and saw so many people already doing that. So many people. 

Oh, to be more ordinary!

A poem by Marianne Williamson was shared at the service that I have not heard before but will hold in my heart for a long time. It seems appropriate to close with it here. 

"Our Deepest Fear"

Our deepest fear is not that we are inadequate.
Our deepest fear is that we are powerful beyond measure.

It is our light, not our darkness, that most frightens us.
We ask ourselves, Who am I to be brilliant,
gorgeous, handsome, talented and fabulous?

Actually, who are you not to be?
You are a child of God.

Your playing small does not serve the world.
There is nothing enlightened about shrinking
so that other people won't feel insecure around you.
We are all meant to shine, as children do.

We were born to make manifest the glory of God within us.
It is not just in some; it is in everyone.

And, as we let our own light shine, we consciously give
other people permission to do the same.
As we are liberated from our fear,
our presence automatically liberates others.

Define "inappropriate"

There are three things Tucker has done recently that I need to blog about. I jotted down some notes about them on the back of a receipt, and I think I may have thrown that receipt away today. So I think I'll just start writing and see if I can remember them all.

Tucker is a smart, smart kid, and he really, truly believes he can do anything. For example, yesterday he said, "Mom, I think I'll compete in the Olympics some day. Don't you think that would be cool?"  I mentioned that he may want to start considering which event he will be competing in, and he started listing the pros and cons of each. Keep in mind that this is certainly not a person who thinks getting to and competing in the Olympics is easy, it's simply a person who believes that if he decides to do something, then of course he will do it very well. We may all be voting for him some day.

This preface is appropriate because Tucker has been in rare form lately. Maybe I've just noticed more because it's summer and we've been spending so much time together, but he is a funny kid.

Tucker moment #1 that I remember from the back of my receipt (this is the order in which I remember things rather than the order they actually happened): We've been pricing full size beds for Tucker's room. He has a bunk bed, and it doesn't have a lot of support - no box springs or anything. I've debated whether or not I think a used mattress is creepy, and I've researched how to disinfect mattresses. We've also been to just about every store in College Station that sells them. Trey's mom saw an ad in the paper for a moving sale that included a full sized bed, so she texted Trey a picture of the ad. He read it. I read it. Tucker read it. Here's the conversation that followed:

Tucker: We can't get that bed.
Me: Well, Tucker, if it's nice, then it could be okay. I've been reading about how to disinfect a mattress, and it might be nicer than what we would get new.
Tucker: No, we don't qualify.
Trey: Yes, I think they'll sell it to anyone who wants to buy it.
Tucker: No. It clearly says it's a "moving sale." We're not moving.

Trey and I looked at each other, and we laughed and laughed. I think after we finally explained it, Tucker laughed, too. I'm glad he can laugh at himself.

Tucker story #2: The boys had been total and complete hellions one day this week, and it occurred to me that I could sell them on ebay or perhaps just leave them on the side of road with a sign that said "free kids" or something like that. They are easily as cute as puppies, and people do that with puppies, right?

On this particular day, I was cleaning out the garage and they boys pretty much had free reign. As long as they weren't killing each other, I would have left them completely alone. I did start talking to them around noon about how I wanted their stuff picked up before three because someone was coming over to talk to me about replacing the floors in our house. They both looked at me with that, "Sure, lady, we're going to clean while you're not even in the house. Yeah, right," look, but I was certain, certain that they would do this one thing for me.

I reminded them every ten minutes or so. I yelled. I begged. I lectured. I knew this would happen. I just knew it.

But I was dumb.

Because at exactly three o'clock, I walked into the house to check on the time and found Tucker, building a fort out of every blanket and pillow we own, in my bedroom. His stuff was strewn from one end of the house to the other. I lost it.

Me: TUCKER HICKMAN!  I CANNOT BELIEVE YOU! I ASKED YOU TO DO ONE THING - ONE THING - AND YOU ARE MAKING AN EVEN BIGGER MESS!  I HAVE BEEN WORKING ON THAT GARAGE THAT YOU AND YOUR BROTHER HAVE TRASHED, AND ALL I ASKED IS THAT YOU PICK UP YOUR CRAP IN THE HOUSE! DO YOU KNOW HOW MAD AT YOU I AM RIGHT NOW?  DO YOU GET IT? DO YOU UNDERSTAND THAT I ASKED YOU FOURTEEN TIMES TO CLEAN UP AND YOU DID ABSOLUTELY NOTHING?

There was a long pause, and Tucker looked a little perplexed. Finally, he spoke.

"Wait. You counted?"

Tucker story #3: After that little episode, the boys were grounded from tv and computer and video games for the rest of the day, so they were forced to go out and ride bikes and play. Surprise, surprise, they were both in a much better mood. Tucker can't stand to be in trouble with anyone, ever, so he was working very hard to be friendly and nice to me. Trey was out mowing, and I was eating dinner at the kitchen table by myself while Tucker made his own dinner (probably a jelly sandwich - have I mentioned what a fantastic mom I am?). Here's how that conversation went:

Tucker: Mom, you might think this is inappropriate, but I'm going to tell you anyway because it's funny.
Me: Well, if you think it's okay to tell me, then let's hear it.
Tucker: Okay, it's a joke. A little boy was taking a shower with his mom, and he looked up and his mom said "Don't look up, you'll see my flashlights."

(pause for a minute here...do any of you remember this joke from when you were a kid?  I do, and it is a dirty, dirty joke. It is at this point that I realize my nine year old son is telling me a dirty joke. And he knows it's a dirty joke because he already told me I would find it inappropriate. I'm trying so hard not to laugh, and I'm beginning to sweat a little because I know where this is going.)

He continues: Later, the boy is taking a shower with his dad, and his dad says, "Don't look down. You'll see my snake."

(Tucker is laughing so hard that it's difficult to understand him. It's clear he finds this joke hilarious, even if inappropriate.)

He continues: Later, they are in the car, and the son says, "Mom, turn on your flashlights!  There's a snake in the car!"

And then he almost falls down he's laughing so hard. I'm laughing, too, mostly because he's laughing. He doesn't usually get jokes, so the fact that he finds this one so stinking hilarious is very, very funny to me.

Also, I remember a MUCH dirtier version of the joke, and I'm a little relieved that this is the best he could come up with.

Being the awesome mom that I am, I mention that while I thought his joke was quite funny, I did think it was probably a little inappropriate and shouldn't be told at school. He told me he knew that it wasn't school appropriate, and not to worry because they were not at school when his friend told it to him.

Should I be comforted by that?

It seems the way Tucker makes it back into my good graces is by telling me a dirty joke.

Should I be comforted by that?

(I would like to point out here that  I just started writing and I remembered all three things!)