Raisin' 'Em Up Right

Gil is contributing to Sammy's training.

I Pity His Kindergarden Teacher

The locker room, Connor's second day of swim lessons.

Connor started swim lessons this week. His first day was a disaster. He completely freaked out when his teacher insisted he put on goggles and put his face in the water to blow bubbles, and when she tried to carry him around the pool he started fighting with her, pinching and hitting her. When I picked him up (I wasn't there because they tell the parents to go away because they are a distraction), he was bawling his eyes out, and after I talked to his swim teachers, leading him away to the locker rooms, he was still so upset that he threw up on the tile. Thank goodness not in the pool. But good grief! That boy has a brick head, a will of iron. If he makes up his mind that he doesn't want to do something, it's very difficult to derail his train of thought.

I immediately formed a strategy, telling his teacher, who is a no-nonsense kind of gal, that I would bring Connor back to the pool later and work with him to get him ready for class the next day. So, that's what we did. I brought him back that afternoon, and we took things slow and easy, fitting a pair of goggles to his face and he sat on the steps while blowing bubbles in the water. He was resistant every step of the way, "No, I don't want to do that!" but I told him that there was no way he was getting to swim in the new awesome pool if he didn't go to swim lessons. Plus, I threatened to take away his Wii privileges. That almost always produces results.

Connor also got a lot of guff from his Dad, Gil, and Dani. "You hit your teacher?! That is sooo bad!" And everyone gave him a hard time to the point that he was rolling his eyes and holding up his hand, "Okay, I don't want to talk about it anymore!"

The next day went a lot better, almost a total 180, and he did what his teachers told him to do, for the most part. He's still a little resistant, but at least he's not freaking out and hitting people. The no-nonsense gal has taken up the lifeguard position on the sidelines, leaving Connor with the soft-talking-sooth-the-children swim teacher. Frankly, he needs someone to be firm with him, because he's so bull-headed, he's going to run right over a meek personality.

I'm kind of dreading kindergarden because we've had some interesting incidents with him in primary. Once, he was sitting out in the hall pouting because he didn't want to be in sharing time, and he watched until all five adults in the hallway weren't looking, and he snuck off from church and just walked home. We looked all over the church, under tables, in cabinets, and finally we figured out what happened to him. He was just sitting at home, watching tv. Just a few weeks ago, they were discussing birthdays in class, and he got so upset that it wasn't it his birthday yet, that he wound up hiding under the sinks in the bathroom. I had to go in and lay down the law before he'd go back to class. His poor teacher is the soft-spoken kind, and tries to talk him out of his stubbornness, but it hardly ever works. He needs a demonstration of consequences before he will change his train of thought. Sweet-talking and logic don't make a dent. He has to be diverted by an entirely new train of thought or be forced to turn.

His poor kindergarden teacher. I feel a lot of parent-teacher conferences coming my way. Frankly, a part of me is preparing to home school that kid. I don't know yet how bad it's going to be in the more-structured atmosphere of public school.

Pray For Us

1st drive by himself, legally.

His Dad got Gil his own set of keys, after he passed his driver's test yesterday and got his official license. Did Zen have to do that?

Yep, my insurance just went up $112 a month, A MONTH. That's a 130% increase. And that's if he doesn't do anything stupid.

Hiking Out to the Petroglyphs

About 20 miles outside of Rock Springs, out by Boar's Tusk and the sand dunes, are some rock formations that have many figures carved into the surface. Here is what the Wyoming Tourism site had to say:
"Hundreds of carved figures dot the sandstone cliffs at the White Mountain Petroglyph site in Wyoming’s Red Desert. As one of Wyoming’s premier rock art sites, the White Mountain Petroglyphs should be a stop on any tour of southwestern Wyoming. Etched into the stone surface some 200 to 1,000 years ago, several figures appear to portray bison and elk hunts while others depict geometric forms or tiny footprints. Handprints are worn into the rock as well, providing visitors with a compelling connection to those who used the site long ago."

We went down a dirt road for about 20 to 30 minutes, then parked at a little rest area. A fifteen minute hike later brought us to the base of the cliffs.


Walk it off, sister!

It was terribly windy today, more at the beginning than the end, but I was thankful all the kids made it.

The sandstone cliffs.


A baby inside the mama, perhaps buffalo.

Sammy took it pretty well. His first hike, and in Wyoming wind!

Licking the backpack was his main occupation. I wonder how many grandchildren have been hauled around in this thing?


Can you see it? Think reindeer.

Emma was so independent today. Every time we tried to help her climb over a rough spot, she would scream at us to leave her alone. Sheesh, two-year-olds.


I think this one is my favorite, the warrior astride his mount, wearing a headdress, and raising his spear.

Connor was fascinated by this small cave. He hemmed and hawed, pestering everyone to go in the cave before he would, because he thought it was scary.


I love the beauty of rock formations. So many interesting shapes, and wonderful warm stone colors.

Our one family picture of the day. There were a few other hikers out there, two older men, and a teenage boy about Gil's age, maybe older. One of them graciously took our picture, but of course, Connor and Emma were not cooperative. Gil is at High Adventure Camp this week, acquiring some blisters by going on long hikes.

Connor finally convinced us to go in the cave ahead of him, so I crawled in to show him it was safe, he climbed in after me, and then he didn't want to leave. What boy doesn't love a secret hideout?

On the way back, riding in the truck, Dani shared her MP3 earbuds with Emma, who was fascinated by the music coming out of them. "Look, she's just like me, " Dani said, "everyone should have a Mini Me." Oh, boy, those should be some fun years ahead.

We topped off our little trip with some yummy Chicken Bacon Artichoke pizza from Papa Murphy's. It's surprisingly light on the waistline, for a pizza anyway.

Awww, come on, how much trouble could I really get in? Besides, therapy's not THAT expensive, right?

Connor - for sassing his mother all the time and generally making everything a battle, refusing to eat healthy food, playing too much Wii (don't talk to me about how much that is my fault), taking Emma's toys, and repeatedly blowing in Sammy's face, even when I tell him not to. Sheesh, boys.

Emma - for trashing my house all the time. Sheesh, two-year-olds.

You Might Be A Redneck

...if you build a toy for your baby from PVC pipe.


Sammy liked it, so don't mock.

Birthday Addendum

Oops!! My bad!! I forgot to show the great gifts the Grammie sent to Gil and Emma:

Nothing beats birthday cake for breakfast the next day!

Emma always loves the singing cards. It sets her little dancer toes to tappin'! This one had Gloria Estefan's "Conga." Shake that thing!

A dollar for each year. Great thing for the 16-year-old! Could I get that on my 40th? Just kidding!