A Great Way To Spend A Saturday

A couple of weekends ago, we decided to while away a day on one of our favorite family pasttimes.

We all got up early, packed a picnic and set off for the lake.

Our party set up our little spot along the shore, cast out our lines, and settled in for a glorious day of fishing.





Things went swimmingly (sorry, couldn't resist), and Jericho managed to bring in the first catch of the day.



Unfortunately it wasn't of the swimming variety.

Not to be deterred, the rest of the party re-cast their lines and waited.





And waited.





There was a brief flurry of excitement as one of the younger children in our party cast his line...and wrapped it around Jericho who was several feet behind him.

Jericho was not amused.



The women in the group just chuckled...and promptly served lunch.

Because you know a good fishing trip really is all about the tranquility...and the picnic that is brought along with you. Spending a day in the great outdoors, you always work up a powerful hunger.

Especially when the picnic contains items not normally allowed at home. Things like Twinkies and Hostess cupcakes, Capri Sun drinks and chips.



The kids were happy campers.

The local geese, upon seeing that bread was being broken, came to shamelessly beg.





Judah The youngest child in our party kept splashing in the water, and probably drove every goose and fish in the vicinity far far away.



But folks did not seem to mind. They simply cast their lines on the other side.

Of the lake.



That is one of the kids from our party on the other side. (The boy, not the pelican.)

Yes, this lake IN THE DESERT actually had a pelican on it.

Our party relaxed and waited some more.



Wait...was that a nibble?

"I got somepeen!" Judah called, breathless with excitement, and daddy helped him reel it in.



He got something, all right.



A dirty old discarded plastic cup.

Funny, when they told us the lake was recently stocked, we thought they meant fish.

In spite of it all, we had a very nice time.

It was one of those occasions that could almost be classified as perfect...with good company, good food and fun.

Except that just before we were about to leave, I looked over to see this:





Yes, continuing in his rather morbid fascination with dead animals, our little darling (sarcasm intended) managed to find a bloated, dejected trout floating along the shoreline...and was stabbing it unmercifully with a stick.

Oy. So much for idyllic.

Our Puppy, D.O.G.

So after having our puppy for a couple of months now, the verdict is still out on how Jeff and I feel about him.

The kids adore him, of course.

And he's IS cute and puppy-ish.

Even if he does torment Raisin something awful strut his stuff as the Alpha dog of the Frump pack.

Normally by now, folks like us would have felt a certain...endearment towards their puppy. For being adorably cute if nothing else.

Unfortunately this puppy hasn't done much to endear himself to us.

He's teethed on the hoses.

He's torn up the dog beds and tugs them out of the dog houses nearly every day.

He gets into the house every chance he can.

He's also grown bigger...much, MUCH bigger.

And if his paw size is any indicator, he won't be done growing for quite some time. (I'm thinking he may have Great Dane in his family line somewhere.)

As his owners, all we see when we look at him are dollar signs...swirling down the drain in alarming numbers.

We've also learned that he just isn't the sharpest tack in the pack as puppies go.

Case in point:

Here he is.

Frolicking and cavorting happily about in the yard.

The NEIGHBOR'S yard!

Then he spots me in our back yard.

"Ruh roh!" he thought, and made for the hole in the fence like The Poky Little Puppy.

Or maybe that would be The Prodigal Dog.

Raisin stood there self-righteously accusing him as he tried to squirm his way under the fence.

And as you can see...

...he didn't have the good grace to look one bit guilty for his misdeeds, even as the dust from his escapade still clung to his coat!

Yes, apparently worrying about youngsters inside my house getting out wasn't enough...now I have to worry about the one on the outside getting out, too.

What are we going to do with you, D.O.G.?

Boys Will Be Boys

I use this saying facetiously.

I'm not one that is willing to pass off or turn a blind eye to wrong boyish behavior with a flippant, "Boys will be boys".

However, having grown up in a home with only one brother (poor thing), my sisters and I all being girly girls that played with dolls, had a fascination with nail polish and make-up and dresses that spun way out when we twirled around...well, lets just say I've noticed that there are some very distinct, inborn differences between the sexes.

Things that I believe are healthy, God-given differences that should be encouraged and nurtured and celebrated...but nevertheless were things I was unprepared for as a mom.

It's an entirely different ballgame parenting boys than it is parenting girls.

It's been something of a challenge for me over the years as a mother of sons to quell my natural instict to coddle and baby them after every little scratch or scrape, determined to raise them to be tough and roll-with-the-punches boys who will one day grow to be manly men, instead of little 'mama's boys' or 'sissies'.

This is not to say they aren't still affectionate and sweet. Though tough, they also have moments of sensitivity and both show signs of being compassionate and tender-hearted.

Still, it's like I'm a stranger in a foreign land. Daily there are things about mothering boys that surprise me.

There is something unknown and utterly unfamiliar to me...an inner drive that compells my sons to tear apart or make forts of the couch cushions nearly every day.





To rise to the challenge and conquer new heights.



To turn anything they have on hand into a gun while playing with other boys.



To line up the shakers on a restaurant table and 'thoot the bad guyth'.



To say things like, "You wanna peetha me?", complete with that head bobbing-in-readiness challenge action.





To want to play fight and wrestle and rough-house all the time...usually until we have to put a stop to it.

To have a fascination with things like motorcycles, cars, boats, jets, fire engines, helicopters and trains, anything to do with "Wightneen McKeen" from Cars, and more recenly "Cwotch Wockets" (referring to those fancy motorcycles the younger set seem to prefer).

To turn whatever is handy (here a couch cushion) into a "moto-psycho"

And to turn everything into a train.





Or maybe a skateboard (no thanks to The Goofy Movie).

To leave very realistic looking toys lying around the house (which after the door has been open and mom naturally worries about what is outside getting in can really freak a mom out!)

To laugh about, um, flatulence. And belching. Every. time. they. hear. it.

And to make said sounds while either cupping their hands in their armpits or by 'forcing' themselves to burp as often as possible (and with our older son Jericho, this must always occur on the sidelines with much frequency while I am talking to someone after church or in the line at the grocery store--the most public place possible, so as to bring about the utmost humiliation to his mother).

Because to boys, nothing is funnier than the sound of passing gas, no matter how uncouth their mother may deem it.

Boys also naturally gravitate towards puddles or fast food cups left in parking lots so as to stomp on them, giving no thought to where the oily puddles or the liquid inside said cups will splatter in the process.

They also don't care one whit if they get absolutely filthy playing outside.

Or if they aren't wearing a stitch of clothing in full view of the cloud of neighborhood witnesses (thankfully we managed to curb this behavior in Jericho early on, but as you can see, we have our work cut out for us with Judah).



To crawl into dark, cobwebby holes without fear (like the doghouse when our dog Raisin wasn't in it).

To, um, take a whiz outside (much to mom's mortification) because it's such an inconvenience to "have to come all the way inside" to use the toilet when busy playing in the back yard.

To play with the spiders that appear nightly on our front porch by throwing baby crickets into their webs so they can watch them come out and wrap 'em up for later.

Or to put said spiders in a big jar and pit them against a praying mantis also found near our porch light...to see which one will win.

Because they're boys and we want them to grow up to be courageous and unafraid of taking risks or facing down danger, I have to let them do things that would have given my grandma a heart attack to watch.

Things like being thrown high in the air by daddy.



Diving headfirst down slides at the park.

Or poking at road kill with a stick to see the disgusting maggots crawling around on it.

Here we have the boys inspecting a dead pigeon in a parking lot, all the while asking questions like, "Can I poke at it with a stick?" or "Can I kick it?".

Only rarely do I get to see glimpses of myself in my boy children.

With our older son Jericho, there is his artistic ability. He and I seem to see through the same artistic lenses. I also see glimmers of myself in his sense of humor and how he views the world around him.

But with Judah...very little about him ever reminds me of me.

Until the other day when Judah was standing by the glass sliding door and the sun was streaming in, and he called out, "Mama! C'mewe!"

I came running and found him standing there with the shadows from the screen dancing on his forearm, and he in wonderment saying, "Wook at da pwetties, mama!"



Yep, I know it's strange, but I definitely saw myself in that one.

The rest? All boy.

Just like his dad.

And that's a good thing. Well except maybe that whole flatulence thing, lol.

Our Weekend Vacation to Pasadena, CA

So our family took a mini vacation towards the end of our Christmas break. Jeff's sister invited us to lovely Pasadena, California to view the Rosebowl Parade Floats.

It was kind of a dreary day, but the floats were still technicolor spectacular, thanks to the millions of individual plastic corsage vases the the flowers are kept in to keep everything so nice and fresh looking.

I didn't get to see the actual parade, but I understand that this robot Cosimo, sponsored by Honda, was pretty amazing with moving parts and all.



I really enjoyed this float, featuring The Wizard of Oz.

This one was cute from all sides, and no detail was left unfinished. Moss and other natural materials made up the furry looking portions of the rabbit.

This one was spectacular up close. The knights were the hands-down favorite of our boys.

Well, except for this one with "Thomas". Because any train is Thomas to Judah, and he loves them all.

The Mad Hatter's Tea Party was pretty well done, too.

I think this is the closest Wile E Coyote has ever gotten to Road Runner.

I totally love that New Mexico uses these characters to represent their State, lol. The back of the float featured familiar rock formations from the cartoon and New Mexico. Very clever.

Because Macy's doesn't get quite enough exposure in their own parade, they had to make sure they were represented in this one as well.

The wave this family was 'surfing' was done with sprays of white and purplish flowers that did look bluish in the overcast weather.

This fountain also made use of purple flowers, and did look like water spilling over the edges, which was apropo for a Botanical Garden's float, I suppose.

The Asian artistry on these floats was amazing, and made great use of the full spectrum of color in flowers.

New Mexico wasn't the only State represented in the parade...this one from Alaska was one of my favorites. I love the Iditarod and they did a phenomenal job on the sled dogs using natural materials. There were other critters along with a moose, a grizzly and a walrus featured on other portions of the float. Well done.

This float highlighted the Burbank Drive-in (as I remember), featuring 3-D glasses and a number of famed flicks shown in the theater over the years. Their attention to detail was incredible. Every nook and cranny had neat things to look at.

This float was advertising some type of dog food. Love the skating bulldog. I seem to recall such a dog on one of those America's Funniest Home Video type shows.

I believe this octopus was on the Burbank Drive In float, and I included it to point out that the orange-peach color was achieved using yellow lentils.

Oscar's 'fur' was achieved using greenery from shrubs and bushes.

Here's another familiar face.

What really had me cracking up as I was editing these photos were the random walk-throughs...people who had absolutely no idea they would be forever immortalized on my blog.

I liked this guy for his carefree, "I got right out of bed and came straight here" attitude. He wasn't going to let the fact that he needed a touch-up with his Grecian Formula stop him.

I think this guy was muttering, "Where IS that woman! She drags me out here when I could be golfing, and now I've lost her in the crowds."



This, however, was my favorite. I think it's Larry Hagman from Dallas, lol. (I've really lucked out in my celebrity sightings...first Don King the boxing promoter, and now J.R. Ewing as he would have looked had ne not been shot.)

And no family outing would be complete without tormenting treating our youngest to the sight of an enormous moving beast with steam coming out of his nostrils. When it turned your direction, it looked as though it were looking right at you.

All Judah had to say about the matter was to whimper, "I want to go h-o-o-o-o-me"

Which after hoofing it up and down the entire length of that place in those crowds sounded like a pretty good idea to us.

It was getting towards dusk when we finally finished our tour. I thought it was fitting that one of the final floats in the lineup featured the Lutheran Bible Hour float with a giant pipe organ and the word, "Hallelujah!"

My sentiment exactly.