Competition . . .

So, it's been all about the meets. Last Wednesday, Judah and Ez had a Mathcounts meet in a town 30 miles to the east and Noah had a cross country meet in a town 30 miles to the west.  Tag team parenting yet again.  Gary  watched the runners and I watched the mathletes. Thank God for texting so we could keep each other posted as the events were happening!  Whatever did we do before cell phones?
Anyway - the cross country race was the Conference meet and Noah got 8th overall, his best time, and his team won the whole thing!  Whoot!  Meanwhile, Ez got 4thplace among all the 8th graders and Judah placed 1st among the 7th graders!  Whoot again!

Now, I know what you're thinking - that we are celebrating a cut throat - win at all costs - kind of thinking. But I have to tell you, that's not the case.  When the boys were tots, I actually tried to make our home a non-gun zone.  It lasted 3 1/2 seconds.  Noah picked up a banana, pointed it at his brother and said, "Bang".  Then it was a lego brick and then a rolled up piece of paper. I gave up. And so it went with competition. Yes, we have always given them the 'do your best' and 'just try hard' lectures.  But I knew it was all over when they get ready to eat their cereal and yell, "Ready, set, go!" and the race is on to see who can eat the fastest. Are you kidding me?  A Eating Cereal Race? Well, you name it - they are competing about it.  I mean come on - they race to see who can get their school done first, who can shoot the K-nex piece through a football goal post with a rubber band more times without hitting someone in the eye, and who can fly through the air the farthest after jumping onto the rope swing from the tree in the front yard.  It matters not the event - they are going to try to one-up the other guy.

And so - I believe it's a forgone conclusion that it's in their DNA.

And frankly, I can not fathom where on earth they get it from . . .
:)

Run like the wind - or into it . . .

'You look like an Ethiopian', the cross country coach said to my eldest son.  Noah took that as a compliment and rightly so.  Long and lean (read - SKINNY) his body type does resemble those very thin marathon runners.  And he's living up to the type.  He continues to improve his time and moved up to the number 3 spot on the team.  His new 5K PR - 19:54 - so far. Not bad - for a skinny white guy.  :o

(Is it just me or do any of you ever wonder how those pencil stick-like legs can carry those guys so far and so fast? ) 

Well, it seems like the running bug has bitten a few other members of this family.  After running in the (gulp) Senior Games a few weeks ago (which, by the way, I had an absolute blast doing.  Hanging out with a gaggle of old fogies like me - barely able to bend over to tie their running shoes was super fun) there have been a series of races in the area that a couple of us decided to run.  With Gary out with a bad back/hip/leg, I roped India into running a 4K with me, which happened to land on probably one of the coldest and windiest days of the fall. (like nearly every other day in South Dakota)  All was well at first - running with the wind at our back pushing us along.  I thought, man, I could do this all day.  Then at the turn I hit the arctic blast that nearly knocked me over and I felt like I was on a treadmill.  But we trudged through - even though our legs and arms felt like icicles. Or could we even feel our legs . . . 

After we thawed out, India thought that was so much fun, (?!) she decided she wanted to run a 5K the next weekend - and roped me into it.  Turn about is fair play I guess.  But during the week, she was dancing and someone actually landed on top of her knee and tore her LCL!  Who knew dancing was a contact sport?!  Ouch - I know.  So, she wasn't up to running, but she went along anyway and kind of walked/jogged the course.  (Much against the physical therapist's advice)  It was a perfect day for a race.  51 degrees, sunny with a slight breeze.  Beautiful.  

You know what the greatest thing about these event is - the people you meet and the conversations that you have.  I love it.  (Of course, wearing those perfectly ugly 5 Finger toed running shoes is sure to garner a comment or two - and a few stares and sneers and giggles . . .)  

Side note - at this race I got my 'After Children and Now I'm Old - PR'  of 26:17.  So, that's okay too.  (For a senior citizen)

And Gary actually ran a few miles this week, so maybe he's up for a race or two now.  There's a 5k trail run this Sunday, and another 5K the following weekend.  I say - why not?   Add that to Noah's Conference, Region, and state (we hope and pray) cross country meets the next three weeks and  - wow. The miles are piling up.   

You could say we're runners - I'd say we're just - running amok . . . 

 

   

Seasons change . . .

Either I'm really getting old or I'm simply a chronic complainer - (or both) - but I am really not looking forward to the cold season that has been sprung on us.  I am so not ready for boots and hats and mitts!  :(  But last night, my cold toes were the least of our worries.  With the threat of temperatures dipping in the 20's - my sons' garden was in peril.  So, they did what every produce grower does around here - sets out to save those lovely tomatoes before old Jack Frost could get to them.  Usually that means throwing a sheet over and hope for the best.  But that was just not good enough for my young entrepreneurs.  Nope.  They had to make sure their investment was safe.  So they worked til the wee hours doing things by the book (or by the world wide web) - and then some.

First, they watered the base of all the plants til we nearly ran out of water.  Then they filled buckets with water and set them on the ground which was now an acre of mud.  Then they mounted a small space heater on a block of wood, set it in the middle and turned it on 'high'. (If it fell, it would plop into the wet mud, so we weren't too worried)  Then they covered all the plants they could with plastic from top to bottom.  And then, they prayed.

The next morning we awoke to the grass blanketed with white crunchy icy frost, and all the leaves everywhere that weren't covered were black and dead from the 28 degree temps.  A collective gasp was heard as we stared out the window.  The boys donned their hats and boots and ran out the door.  Yes, the tomatoes were saved!!  Hallelujah!  It was well worth the effort.  There are so many tomatoes still on the vines, we could not let them perish.  We need them for salsa, salads, spaghetti sauce and for our version of BLT's -  TLT's.  Tofu, Lettuce and Tomato!!   MMM!!!

So, thank you once again to the internet for helping us to find out how to do things. It never ceases to amaze me.
Now, if only we could find out how to stave off winter completely . . .

And then there were frogs . . .

Is this Egypt?  I have begun to think so.  As I stepped out onto the brick patio and had to dodge at least 8 little critters that were jumping from the grass to the flower bed  before hitting the driveway to begin my daily run.  By the time I hit the mail box, 4 other toady friends leapt out of my path and there were 5 more before I reached the corner.  And that's where I lost count.  Between the fields of corn and as each telephone pole rolled by, I was hopping and leaping as much as they were just so I wouldn't step on them.  It was the game Frogger in real life.  With me being the logs.  2 weeks ago they were tiny and cute.  Now - not so much.  They morphed into, well, bigger, fatter frogs and plopped aside rather than hopped.  Ick.
I fell like I'm running an obstacle course, much like the one Noah is going to run this weekend.  He'll run three miles cross country, up and down hills,  over hay bales, and through water.  Sounds like fun, doesn't it?!  I hope and pray he does really well and is happy with his race.
And I hope he doesn't meet up with any frogs along the way.

 I can see it now - The Dodging Leap Frogs Marathon.  The new craze in sport.

Now if the water turns to blood, I'll really start to worry.

Here we go again . . .

Another school year is upon us and we are, as usual, knee deep into activities.  I'll break it down like this:
Noah runs and writes, Ez and Judah swim and tend their garden, India dances and dances and dances, and cooks occasionally, Gary works and fasts, and I run, workout and try to get everyone where they need to be.  On time.  Without forgetting them when the are done.  And do not ask me if that has ever happened please.

I think I need one of those blackberry/smart phone/palm pilot/ipod-pad touchy things that dings and beeps to remind me when I'm supposed to be doing something.  Except for the fact I could probably never figure it out - especially since I just got a new phone :( and even reading the entire instruction booklet - there are things that this phone can do that I still haven't figured out yet.  (and thanks to India for putting 'Be Still and Know I am God'  by Toby Mac and Kirk Franklin - love that song - as my ring tone - or I'd still have that creepy polka/jazz number that was preset on my phone cause I had no idea how to change that)
Maybe I'll just stick with writing things down on the wall calender - the old fashioned way . . .

Noah's first cross country meet is this weekend.  Yeah!  The boys are swimming for the big swim team in town and I am in mourning.  While I know they will get really great training, I'm so much of a do-it-myself, individualistic, typical homeschooler - that I miss the small squad that felt more cozy.  I'd even rather teach them myself, (I'm way too much of a rebel) but swimming is not really my area of expertise.  So yeah, I guess I have to leave this one to the professionals.
And yes, that is probably a very good thing.

The busy-ness slows . . .

So, after a dozen golf tournaments, 6 weddings, 5 weeks of track and field practice and 2 track competitions, summer basketball league, inter-squad basketball open-gym, 4 weeks of dance camp, long days of life guarding and teaching swimming lessons, and 1 road race - the summer is finally winding down.   That is what we did in just the 2 months of June and July.  And no, I have nary a stitch of sanity left.

Time for a vacation!!!  But since we're about all traveled-out - we are actually thinking of doing a stay-cation.  For us - since we are not exactly in 'vacation haven' here in northern South Dakota - a stay-cation would mean  cleaning out the garage and re-organizing the kitchen cabinets.
 It's not exactly Costa Rica my friends . . .

Heads up!!!  SATURDAY  AUGUST 6 -  Day of prayer and fasting.    Join us in asking our Father's mercy on us and our nation.  May he hear our humble prayers.   2 Chron. 7:14   May we repent like Ninevah and unleash revival in our land!    

Proper perspective . . .

Our gravel road never, and I mean, never gets graded.    In fact, many times, the grader will do all the roads surrounding ours, but not ours.  Well, just the other day, he finally went through and made all nice and smooth.  Yeah!  Then it rained that very night.  No,  it poured.  The next morning,  all the heavy duty  farm trucks drove on it making deep ruts filled with water and mud all along the road.  Not yeah.
Murphy's law or what.

We just bought an army sized bag of cat food a couple days ago, put it in a 5 gallon pail with the lid on and that very night, the raccoons came, and yes, they got the lid off the bucket and ate the ENTIRE bag.  Seriously?!   Thanks Murph.

Then the boys put the badminton net up with all the stakes and boundaries perfectly measured out, played a couple games and that very night, an epic storm comes and rips the net to the ground.
You're starting to annoy me Mr. M.

Easy to get miffed - right?
Well - I had to put all this in perspective when I read this:  A couple months ago, there was this young guy who for three days was leading a major (MAJOR) golf tournament and everyone thought for sure he had it won.  Then, on the very last day, he shanked so many shots, he ended up loosing the whole thing.  By a lot.  People called it a meltdown, and that he choked, and that it was so bad how could he ever get over it and ever do well again. Especially since this very same thing had already happened to him in another MAJOR tournament just a few months earlier.  Ouch.  Now, he could have really gotten down about that, don't you think?  But  this young man, age 22 said after it was over, "You know, if loosing The Masters is the worst thing that ever happens to me, it's not such a bad thing."    WHAT?

You see, he had just gotten back from Haiti.  There he looked upon the REAL definition of 'loosing'.  He saw TRUE suffering first hand.  He witnessed the aftermath of the disaster there, with it's unbeliveable heartache and pain, and reasoned that that loosing a golf tournament is - well - way beyond insignificant.

Wise man, that Rory McIlroy.

So, if muddy roads, an empty bag of cat food and a fallen net are the worst things that happen this week - hey - it's not that bad of a week.  Unfortunate, sure.  Devastating - not even close.  

So  -  I need to concentrate on those things that are worth fretting about - and usually those things have nothing at all to do with me.

Perspective.  The proper kind.  I hope I will learn that as well as Rory.