Surviving

When I woke Ty Monday morning, he quickly informed me he wasn't going to school. I was surprised and cautiously mentioned he had enjoyed Thursday and Friday of last week. He quipped back, "that's because they trick kids on short weeks so they think it's fun there. This is Monday and it won't be fun anymore. There will be tests and work now." With that, he rolled over believing he was going back to sleep. The kid is too smart for my own good. He attended school all week despite is convincing argument.

Wednesday and Thursday Kate tried out for volleyball with only a three day camp under her belt for experience. We were delighted she had the confidence to put herself out there and tried to convince her the worst she would hear would be, "not yet". She found out before school Friday morning she didn't make the team. She was crushed and wanted to come home. Fighting every urge in my body, I left her at school knowing she would overcome her emotions and make it through the day. But the truth is, rejection hurts. A lot. And leaving her there to deal with those feelings of inadequacy all day? That hurt too. I am still so proud of her for trying and am looking into club ball options so she can gain more experience.

Kate has a phone now. This still feels rather uncomfortable. We have safety parameters in place but it never feels quite like enough with all that is lurking out there. Sigh. This parenting gig would be a lot easier to navigate on a private island somewhere. But until we are independently wealthy, I do have a village helping me weed through all that threatens our kids' innocence. Anne and I spent Saturday morning dissecting video games our sons are being exposed to as well. It simply doesn't end and I am apparently not content to stick my head in the sand and pretend it all works out best that way. But on the bus, Kate was exposed to a theme I am pretty ticked off about and it came to my attention Ty is also likely hearing bits and pieces about things he isn't old enough to understand. Now we get to determine where to start dialog he shouldn't be having yet. Seriously.....any takers on the private island idea?

Greg spent Saturday smoking a brisket that was as amazing as always. In between sessions watching the smoker's temperature, he played peek-a-boo via FaceTime with our grandson who is as fascinated with Pops long distance as he is in person. That baby is still adorable and we are content to sit and watch him eat, sleep, suck his thumb or smile through video chat. The only deal breaker is tears. Once he cries, I cry and we abruptly let them go. It breaks my heart as he has mastered the sad face and full pouty lip. Austin has skills and Mimi cannot handle the cuteness.

When we rescued Layla, we gave her the birthdate of August 1 because her actual birthday was not known. She was approximately 8 weeks old when we first met her at the neighbor's house in early October nearly five years ago. So she is officially (or as official as we care to claim) five years old now. She truly is a whole hand full. Despite being middle-aged for a boxer, she appears to have animated theme music playing in her head at all times and never lets discipline bother her. She is still the most happy-go-lucky mess we watched her quickly transform into once we brought her home from life in a pen. We took her to a park to play and because we were the only ones there, she got to run off leash. And as usual, per Layla's enthusiasm, "it was the best day ever". All days in Layla's mind are.

Our Saturday was full of family time, good food, bargain hunting at a local thrift store, smores from the oven because 90 degrees exceeds my comfort level for cooking over a fire and ended at the park. It was a good way to wrap a very full week.