Stupazy at Mesa Verde

This summer Joe and I loaded up the car for a long road trip.  We went from Dallas to Tacoma, with plenty of stops in between.  Our first stop was Mesa Verde National Park, about 45 minutes outside of Cortez, Colorado.

Joe and I set up camp at the camp ground.  Or maybe I should say that I set up camp and asked Joe to help.  It was on this portion of the trip that I coined a new phrase.  It is called Stupazy. I have seen the phenomenon too many times in the past but I didn't know what to call it.  It is when a kid acts like he is stupid so that he can get out of work because he is lazy. I am not saying Joe is bad or that he isn't a normal twelve year old boy.  I am just defining the syndrome.  Eventually we got the tent set up.  We cooked dinner.  We took showers at the campground host center.  That was great.  I got the fire started with no boy scout juice, just good fire making skills.  I have watched Bob build fires enough that I can do it too.  We made s'mores.  We skipped the singing and the Park Ranger's lecture.  We had a great evening.  There were a lot of mule deer milling around the campground.  In the morning we packed up all of the hard work we did while setting up camp and headed out to the phenomenal Ancient Pueblo features of the park.

Joe on top of a Mesa.  The Ancient Pueblos farmed on top of the mesas and lived in the cliffs below.

Mesa Verde is in remarkable shape.  Many of the original timbers are still in place.  When it was discovered in the late 1800's many people in the United States rallied to keep this national treasure from being ransacked by souvenir hunters.

I was glad Joe wasn't a whiner.  Hiking down to some of the sites was strenuous.  There were so many visitors from other countries.  When little French children whine they sound cute.  When Italian children whine they sound amusing.  I was kind of surprised that so many foreign women were hiking in skirts and sandals.  There seemed to be some American teenage girls wearing sandals too.  I guess they did not get the memo that this was the Southwest on August 1st.  Close toed shoes may be ugly and hot, but when you step on a rattle snake they offer a measure of protection.

How to Completely Ruin a Kid's Life in One Day

Every couple of months Joe and I have the same argument.  I always win.  It ends with a trip to Huey's for a haircut.  It is not that I need him to have short hair.  It is that I need for his hair to be well groomed.  I have this need for handsome young men who live in my house to have great haircuts.  So today Joe got his hair cut.  When the barber asked if everything was okay, Joe told him that the front needed to be a little shorter.  I was a little surprised by this but it was okay.  He left and seemed okay.  On the way home I stopped at 7-11 and tried to get him a Slurpee.  He refused to get out of the car because he looked so bad.

I headed over to Sam's to buy him some new Levis.  He has been complaining about the jeans I got him last winter for an entire year so I wanted him to come in, try them on, and decide if he liked them.  At Sam's I tried to get him out of the car again.  "No way, Mom.  I am not going anywhere looking like Spock."   I had to assure him that no teenagers ever go to Sam's.  Then, I had to threaten him by saying that he wasn't going to get any new pants this year if he did not go in and try them on.  Once in Sam's I had him try the Levis on over his athletic shorts.  It was all so humiliating.

I decided that since his day was completely ruined anyway, I would go ahead and get him his flu shot. How much more could any kid take?

Later in the day we went to Chilis and I insisted that he order something off of the children's menu.  From my point of view, the point of view that pays for the meal, he would be getting a free drink.  He is still twelve and is still eligible for the kids meal.  I would be giving him all of my french fries and half of my entree.  He would also eat at least half of the appetiser.  All of this generosity went over like a fart in church.  He truly believed that I had completely ruined his life.

Amazingly, the appetizer came and he calmed down.  He started eating his food and could not finish it all before he declared that he was too full to eat another bite.  He has two new pairs of pants that fit and that he likes.  He got home, washed and styled his hair and it looks great.  And he probably won't be getting the flu this year.

Sizing It Up

It is the medication.  Honestly.  A couple of years ago when I transitioned from shorts to pants  due to the colder weather I was surprised to have lost so much weight that all of my winter pants were too big.  Opposite surprise this year.  It is unfortunate that I donated all of my big pants to Good Will.  Today I found myself with only 2 pairs of pants that I could squeeze myself into and zip up.  I went to Sam's today and bought a pair of jeans that I can fit into, zip up, and still breathe.

The iron and vitamin B treatments have helped me to have more stamina.  My skin conditions have improved.  The deep crevasses on my heels have healed up.  The cracks at the sides of my lips are healed up.  The constant sore throat that I had for 4 years is is better now.  I no longer crave ice.  So many other aspects of my health have improved.  All of this improved health came with a price tag of gaining 15 pounds.  I gained all of this weight even though I have been walking 5 miles a day.  I was so hungry at times that I would eat a hot dog.  I would get dizzy and almost faint if I didn't get enough food at regular intervals.  My intense hunger has finally abated,  but I find myself snacking more just because I am used to it.

It is evident what needs to be done.  I either need to go on a diet or buy a bunch of new pants.

The Road to Hell, or Early Christmas Shopping

A couple of days ago I was looking for something in my closet when I came across a pair of XL workout pants.  Bob wears a XXL so I knew they were not his.  They still had the tags on them.  Then I remembered.  I had purchased them late in July and had planned to give them to Jeff as one of his Christmas presents.  He was always working out so I thought he might like some new work out clothes for his inevitable New Year's resolution to lose weight.  I wish I had given them to him right away, even though it was summer in Houston and he probably would not be wearing them until December anyway.  I had other plans for Christmas.  I was working on getting him an I-pod touch.  I know he would have loved that.  I was going to offer to give him the Blue Ford Escort when  Bob got a new car.  He probably would not have taken it.  Some might consider the 93 Escort a little less than cool.

All of these good intentions.

Jeff in Hawaii while he was in the Navy.  He was in great shape due to working 16 hour days, climbing up and down ladders working on the nuclear reactors on the Stennis.

I hate to take Jeff off my Christmas list.  I am the type of person who starts shopping for the next Christmas on January 1, putting things away as I find good deals.  Maybe I will donate his Christmas presents to the RISD  Clothes Closet.

I Should Have Been Named Debbie

I got the word late that November is National Blog Posting month.  Two days of November have gone by without a word from me because I didn't know about it the first day and was too vexed to start yesterday.  I kind of feel like it is January 3rd and I have yet to start the promised diet.

I have a good excuse (and don't we all have an excuse for waiting until January 3rd to start the diet) for staying under the radar with my blog.  I hate to be the Debbie Downer of the blogging world.  I really like happy, uplifting blogs.  I really want myself to be a happy uplifting person, writing funny, uplifting stories, but I haven't been able to fill that role with any honesty of heart.   My mood changes from day to day, from hour to hour, and sometimes from minute to minute.  So, for the next little while, if I am to write everyday, which is my goal for the rest of the month, please don't call the state mental hospital to have me committed for schizophrenia.

By The Numbers

Forty Percent....Gone.

If I break it down by the numbers that is my loss so far.  Five  kids, two gone. Forty percent of my posterity gone.

I have always been a numbers person and in the generations of time this is the lasting effect.  No matter how I try to intellectually, spiritually, or emotionally justify Jeff's death, this is the number that keeps boiling up to the surface.

I am truly grateful for all of the prayers, thoughts, flowers, favors, cards and rides for Joe sent my way.  I wish I wasn't the type of person who has to do the math.

Mom, What Do I Do When...

Back in May Joe watched the Human Growth and Development movie.  This year he got to see the boy's movie and, much to his delight, he got to watch the girls movie  too.  I thought it had been pretty uneventful because when he came home I asked him to tell me about it and he said it was no big deal.  It seems he had to take some time to process the information because I was taking him to Strength and Conditioning camp the other day and he posed a question to me out of the blue, "Mom, what do I do when I am sitting in class in Junior High and a girl starts her period?"

Me      "Joe, you won't have to do anything.  It is not your problem.  You probably won't even notice."
Joe      "But what if I do?"
Me      "Well, you could ask one of her girlfriends to tell her, but under no circumstances are you to approach a menstruating woman and tell her that you have noticed it."
Joe     "You know, boys don't have it easy either, Mom."
Me     "How so, Joe, what do boys have to worry about?"
Joe      "The nurse told us that if we were showing we should put a book in front of it until it goes down."
Me      "I don't think that is as big of a deal as a girl starting her period in class, but the book is a good idea. Hey, Joe, what did you do this year when you were in class with a girl who started her period?"  
Joe     "That is easy.  We were in 6th grade.  No girls had started their periods in 6th grade."
Me     "See, I told you.  You did not have to do anything.  About half of the girls in your class had started.  You didn't even know it."
Joe      "No way, Mom.  I would have known."
Me      "Most girls keep it private, Joe."
Joe      "I think the best idea is for me not to stare at other people's crotches."
Me       "Good idea."

Yes, it is interesting how girls like to keep their growth and development private.  It seems like boys boast and brag at every new development.  I have heard about sprouting hair from my boys on the day it happens in a new place.  The only thing I can say to those pronouncements is, "Good for you!  You are growing up!"

Andrew Dale Beatty

My new grandson, Andrew Dale Beatty.  He was born July 6, 2010 at 11:21 PM.  He weighed a whopping 9 pounds 7 ounces.  He is perfect in every way!  We just love him.  He doesn't have to work on getting those chubby cheeks and a little double chin.  He came out that way 

Megan is doing great!  Can you believe she was able to deliver such a big baby naturally?  Yes, there have been plenty of jokes about how Andrew was able to drive everyone home from the hospital.  

 

Chris is such a good daddy.  He approached fatherhood in a logical manner.  He checked a book out from the library to give him step by step instructions.  It is called Be Prepared and it is written in a Boyscout manual style.  It gives instructions on almost every aspect of newborn and baby care.  Chris has studied this book and I am amazed at how much he has picked up. One of the best lessons in the book taught Chris that he was the chief photographer and it was his duty to document birth and the moments there after.  

I will be posting more about this amazing little boy.  We just got back from Michigan and so there are many things that need to be done.  We miss Andrew more and more each day. 

A Fricken 12 Guage, What do You Think?

Bob, John, Joe and I went up to Arkansas for the fourth of July weekend.  We spent Friday shooting a variety of guns, including BBs, 22s and shotguns. 

We set up the targets on the west side of the pond and shot at them from the east side of the pond.

This is the expert marksman I married.  He has pretty good shooting form, don't you think?

John got his expert ribbons at the Naval Academy during Plebe summer in 2008.  He claims that the experience of spending days and days shooting up in Arkansas during his growing up years honed his marksmanship.

My father likes to rest his rifle on a solid object to steady the shot.

Joe thought the scope messed up his aim.

But I can shoot dead on with the scope, especially when I am sitting down, resting the rifle on the solid object I call my knees.

We had a couple of pistols too. 

John decided to use my method of sitting and resting the rifle on his knees.

Bob had the great idea to bring our camping table to so that we could access our arsenal without putting the guns in the dirt.

We had various targets on the other side of the pond.

Bob and John getting ready for the shotgun session.

John and Joe.

Joe throwing the clay pidgeon.  He did better than I did.  I couldn't get the clay pidgeon to leave the thrower.  I have also decided that I either need to buy a smaller shot gun or give up this sport.  The twelve guage kicks so hard.  It kind of felt like a knife was stabbing my shoulder.  My new rule is that if I can't do a pull-up I can't shoot a twelve guage.  I havn't done a pull-up since I was in the 6th grade. 

Joe was a little afraid to shoot the shot gun but he did great and it didn't kick him too badly, but then again, he can do 3 pull-ups now.

We started the smoke bombs before dark so that we could see the multi-colored smoke.

We went to my cousin Glen's house for the 4th.  After the picnic we went to Rudy for fireworks.  This is Glen's son Ian with Yolanda's kids.

This is my second cousin Yolanda, with her son Cordell and Glen's wife, Linda.

Waiting for the fireworks to start.

Aunt Lorene, me and my father in Rudy waiting for the fireworks to start at dusk.

The show was really good.  I was expecting a small firworks show.  After all, the Rudy's population is 72.  But the fireworks were wonderful! 

After the Rudy show we went back to Glen's and we, especially the boys and young men, shot off fireworks for about an hour, until we ran out.