Sunday, September 30, 2007

Bruised pride and sore muscles

Many times throughout our marriage I have stood in full support of my wife and her desire to run in races. I stood cheering at the finish line, Pepsi in hand while she ran two half marathons, a relay full marathon, and various other races.

I felt a great sense of accomplishment knowing that I managed the kids all by myself with only minor amounts of bribing with sugar substances and toys.

This weekend I entered a new phase of running support (and no I don't mean size of jock straps). A local organization called Active Reentry sponsored a 5k race. All proceeds went to helping those with disabilities acquire the tools they need to succeed in independence. So I reluctantly agreed to run (and I use the word run sparingly) in the race. The race was called the run/walk/and roll so I felt safe in entering.

The first three steps of the race went well for me, then suddenly Cru (age 5) easily separated himself and gained a nice lead. Luckily the fact that Cru had to take 3-4 steps to every one of mine came into play and I caught up.

Unfortunately at about the 1/2 way point the two ladies in motorized wheelchairs caught up and passed me. I smiled and waved, but deep down my competitive spirit burned with hatred and I wished to slash their tires and rip the little orange flag to the ground!

In the end I controlled my bruised pride, and we finished the race as a family at about 55 minutes. I only had to take one Ibuprofen and suffered two minor cramps, one to my left butt cheek, and one to my right hammy......Next year those two motorized wheelchairs are going down!!!! Or maybe I will go back to the Pepsi and finish line support.


I do all my own stunts

Okay, I know you've all seen them, those shirts for little kids that have those funny sayings on them. Well we found a perfect one for Corbin. It says, "I do all my own stunts". A week after we got this shirt for Corbin my brother, Mike, sent me the exact same shirt in the mail for him. (reaffirming that this kid is a lethal himself) I'll elaborate on why this phrase fits Corbin so perfectly. His first crucial accident was at his grandma Andreasen's. He climbed up on the window seat and managed to fall face first onto the leg of the rocking chair right beside it. This accident took us on an adventure to the hospital. Eight stitches and an hour of howling later we were home.

On a nice day this summer the boys were out front playing some baseball. Corbin, on Cru's command, was the pitcher once again. Corbin got a bit too close when letting loose of the ball and Cru popped him in the eye....if you're about to scroll up to check and see if it is the same eye, save your energy. It's the same eye.

Just this week Corbin was distraught with boredom so we went to the playground by Cru's school. We played for a while on one side of the playground. I watched Corbin as he locked is sights on a dinosaur slide across the way. He took off running, looking at how fast his feet were going (a family trait huh Mike!). Anyway I turned to get Ava out of the swing and I heard a vibrating BONG! Corbin ran into a metal bar that was stretched across his path. I turned and he was flat on his back. A huge goose egg right between his eyes formed right away. I don't have a picture of it yet...the bruise is still forming. (I'd like to have the full effect before recording it with the camera) I should have had one of those shirts back in my day of farm stunts.
He's had many other accidents but I'll save you the "Yikes" and "Ouches". Although I laugh about his stunt skills I shudder every time I hear that cry...the one that is different than all others. I hate seeing my kids get hurt. I'm just happy to know that my hugs and kisses can help now. Later in life I don't think I'll be able to soothe them so easily.
March 26th 2008
Corbin was doing a superman pose while swinging on the swing and must have underestimated his balancing skills and fell head first into the gravel. Once we got the rocks out of his nose and the blood and dirt washed off I was grateful to see all his teeth were still in the right places.

Thursday, September 27, 2007

Playground Skills

Well Cru started kindergarten last month. It lasts all day, unlike most kindergartens. But he seems to not know the difference. He rides the bus like a champ and gets up almost every morning eager for the day.

His first friend at school was "birthday boy". He referred to him as birthday boy for a couple weeks. We encouraged him to find out "birthday boys" name several times. Our persistence paid off and we now know his friend is Christian and his birthday is August 28. Another reason why kids are so don't need to know your friend to be a friend.

His other friend is Kendall. A girl from his Sunday school class. I asked if he played with her on recess and he said "no because I didn't know her because her hair was like this..." He then made a strange face and stuck his fingers out and twirled his hands in a circle. After talking to his mom at church I found out they did rollers in her hair the night before.

Yesterday was parent teacher conference. Our first opportunity for this splendid event. Cru was asked by his teacher to attend. We learned that Cru needs to work on his listening skills (He's a social bug as Mrs. Matekovic put it politely) Other than that his teacher let us know that he's doing great! After the conference he took us all out to the playground to show us his "playground skills". He proceeded to climb to the top of the oldest looking piece of playground equipment (you know the old metal bar ones that make me thankful we have health insurance). After climbing to the top he straddles two bars and then jumped off the top!...landing safely with a look on his face like TADAH! We played on this playground throughout the summer and he never attempted something like that. Just within a matter of weeks his playground skills have improved dramatically, that is...become more dangerous. I guess that's what happens when you get 5 or 6 kindergarten boys trying to see who can do the coolest trick. If he doesn't win for coolest trick, I give him the award for the most pea-gravel in his shoes when he gets home from school.