The Sophers are big fans of Travel Channel's, Man vs. Food,

http://www.travelchannel.com/TV_Shows/Man_V_Food

Our likeable host, Adam travels the country trying to accomplish ridiculous food challenges created by restaurants...eating a 20 lb hamburger, eat the spicest wings in the world, etc.

The show inspired the Sophers to try our own challenge..eat vegetables. Our competition is simple. Each week all of the Sophers must eat one serving of the same vegetable. Once you have eaten the vegetable in a timely manner (during the course of supper) and swallow all of it, you get to "check off" that vegetable from the chart. It's not really that the winner gets anything, it's more you don't want to be the loser.

We just finished week 9 and so far things have been really uneventful

radishes - rock on

celery - a snap

cabbage - couldn't be easier.

On Sunday, we tried sphaghetti squash. Each person was allowed one teaspoon of brown sugar to garnish their squash and all other normal rules applied. Colton slurped his up like sphaghetti, finished his meal, checked off the chart, and walked away.

Hagen struggled. He really struggled. I am confident he would have given up had it not been that his brother had already finished and just for a moment was leading in the challenge. Luckily I had my camera near by. Now that I am looking at the pictures, Hagen applied the same techniques he has seen on the show. I knew TV was good for my kids...it helps them eat their vegetables.

Mentally Preparing

Small Amount of Suffering

Lots of Water

Imagine Yourself Eating Something Else

One bite...just one bite

This week was Colton’s parent/teacher conference. Our first with his 4^th grade teacher. We are very fortunate to have yet another teacher who recognizes that all kids learn different, are motivated differently, and need some room to learn at their own pace and their own way. But even Ms. 4^th Grade teacher can only let Colton stray so far from the box.

She showed us samples of his work:

Math – great

Reading Comprehension – great

Science – great

Writing…well….

I must explain at this point…as part of the standard Texas testing in the spring, Colton must be able to write a page and a half on a prompted topic. He must be able to demonstrate competencies in spelling, grammar, telling the story in his voice, does the story have beginning, middle, end, etc.  Think of it as a box. For a brief moment, all students must  show they have learned as much as their peers and they can successfully regurgitate that information onto a piece of paper. Now don’t get me wrong, I am not a box hater. I have lived in the box most of my life. Lord knows, I should have been tested long ago on my writing skills considering to this day my inappropriate use of commas.  But I must say, I envy those wild and creative people that live outside the box, outside the rules, and decided long ago the box is just too small for them.

Wait…back to the conference.

The Writing Sample

Ms. Teacher presented a page only half full written by Colton. She then explained, ”I asked each student to write about the happiest time in their life. Colton sat for five days with an empty piece of paper, explaining that happy is hard to define and so how could he simply write about the happiest day when the measuring scale is flawed? So I told him to write about anything. I just need to know you can write.”

Colton wrote a piece entitled, “Lettuce, My Nemesis”

Colton’s story explained how one day I had challenged him to eat lettuce and so he did.  He told the story of his struggles and how the lettuce got caught in his teeth and has his life began to flash before his eyes as his tongue struggled to release the lettuce and sent it to the pit of his stomach.

Colton’s teacher also had concerns that he wrote a majority of story in robot letters and spelled his name with a K.

So to recap:

5 days late

Wrong topic

One page too short

Wrong font

False Identification

We all sat in awkward silence. I said nothing but only smiled politely. Rog finally broke the silence and as a good parent started to say what we say every year, “We will definitely talk to him about this. We will explain how important the TAKS test is. We will tell him sometimes he just doesn’t get to do what he wants.”

But all I could do was reread the story in front of me and smile. I am his mother and it was my natural instinct to come to his defense to justify his actions.

Five days and the wrong topic: I could see how Colton struggled with trying to make a decision about the happiest day of his life. Could it be the day he spent in his PJs watching cartoons or his most recent birthday? Both bring different kinds of joy.

Too short: I think a story should be as long as it need to be.  So does Colton. Did you see the movie Transformers 2? That was 90 minutes too long.

Wrong Font: Robot writing seems totally appropriate…good vs. evil, villain, evil robots, robot writing. Trust me, the right font is important. I work with a lot of really brilliant people who have dedicated entire meetings to nothing other than the font.  I even watched a PBS MINI series on the creation of a font. Why are we not teaching font to our children? That is the real question.

And well, spelling his name wrong: Have you ever questioned the intentions of Kool & The Gang?  I think not.

But I didn’t say any of those things to the teacher, just you.

So now for the next six months we will lure Colton to the box, bribe him into the box, plead with him to come to the box and he will refuse and I really respect and admire him for that.  Then on the morning of the test, I will gently wake Colton up and whisper in his ear to just run into the box just for today and run back out. I will promise him he will not have to stay there long and I will buy him a cheeseburger and shake for his troubles. He will reluctantly agree because even those outside of the box need to eat.

While doing homework the other night, Colton put his head down on the table and let out a big sigh, "Oh, I am so exhausted today." Rog asked him why he was so wiped out.

Colton went on to explain that he got a hired for a new job. He is working for a fellow classmate as that classmate's "server".  Rog, of course, asked more questions and Colton continue.

Apparently another child has promised Colton (as well as other students) silly bands and tickets if Colton does things like fan the child, hold down the button at the water fountain, and other random tasks.

Rog immediately told Colton he needed to quit his job and he shouldn't serve anyone. He needed to worry about himself.

Colton refused to put in his resignation.

Later in the evening, I spoke to Colton and tried a new approach. I explained to Colton that he was very smart and he didn't need to "serve" another child or work for someone else. Being a good student was his job.

Colton began to ponder...

Silence

Silence

Silence

Silence

Finally he responded..."Oh, I see what you are saying Mom. I shouldn't be serving people, everyone else should be serving ME. Who do think I should hire? What should I pay them? This is a great idea Mom. Thanks"

Then he walked away.

I am always amazed by my parenting skills (not).

While doing homework the other night, Colton put his head down on the table and let out a big sigh, "Oh, I am so exhausted today." Rog asked him why he was so wiped out.

Colton went on to explain that he got a hired for a new job. He is working for a fellow classmate as that classmate's "server".  Rog, of course, asked more questions and Colton continue.

Apparently another child has promised Colton (as well as other students) silly bands and tickets if Colton does things like fan the child, hold down the button at the water fountain, and other random tasks.

Rog immediately told Colton he needed to quit his job and he shouldn't serve anyone. He needed to worry about himself.

Colton refused to put in his resignation.

Later in the evening, I spoke to Colton and tried a new approach. I explained to Colton that he was very smart and he didn't need to "serve" another child or work for someone else. Being a good student was his job.

Colton began to ponder...

Silence

Silence

Silence

Silence

Finally he responded..."Oh, I see what you are saying Mom. I shouldn't be serving people, everyone else should be serving ME. Who do think I should hire? What should I pay them? This is a great idea Mom. Thanks"

Then he walked away.

I am always amazed by my parenting skills (not).

I was reminded today that I had not posted a "Back to School" blog post. I got the hint, so here it goes.

This year's back to school picutre is the same as every year. ...in the driveway around 7:15 in the morning. Picking the driveway as  a backdrop  for a yearly traditional photo was not my smartest idea. Anyway...it is still the same..

the boys are anxious

they don't want their photo taken

they don't want to stand next to each other

if they get too close to one another they hit, kick, punch, or torment the other

my threats are the same

the results are the same..some average photos marking time passing before my eyes

But this year is different...

Hagen is going to middle school

Hagen is checking his newly acquired phone for texts from his friends

He has the "birds and the bees" knowledge...'

I won't drop Hagen off every morning, he catches his ride on the bus

Colton is actually looking forward to going to school

Not to mention after four years he made the switch from a one strap backpack to a two strap backpack...this only took 90 days to decide

Everyone insisted I NOT step into the school and walk them to the classroom.

And so I am reminded that in a blink of eye the years fly by and they find it easier and easier to let go of my hand find their way on their own.

But can someone please tell me why homework each night feels like an eternity?

With May mere months away the swirl of middle school surrounds Hagen. He took a field trip to his new school, he gets a locker, he gets to pick an elective, he gets to leave elementary school behind.

In all of this excitement and change, I asked Hagen if he was excited, scared, sad, or something else in the idea of leaving his elementary school and going on to middle school next year.

He said, "A little sad and a little happy."

"What makes you sad?" I asked.

"I will be on the bottom again. I will be a 6th grader among a lot of older kids."

"What makes you happy?"

"Well. Bigger toilets. The toilets at school are too small."

I tried not to bust out laughing.

There is a phrase in that story, right? Just like "the grass is always greener on the other side of the fence" or "life is not always fair". Hagen just made some sort of profound statement like " Change is scary,  but falling off a toilet is too."

Ok, that may not be it, but there is some life lesson in there somewhere. If you have an idea email me or make a comment below. I would love to hear it.

Last year I drug you through the painful step by step process of completing Hagen's science fair project. This year, I will just summarize.

In 5th grade you have to do an experiment and Hagen chose...water rockets. When he revealed his topic to me I said, "What exactly are you going to test?" He said, "How far they can go?" I said (still thinking I was smarter than him) "How are you going to do that?" He replied, "By applying Newton's 3rd Law of physics and altering the water levels and air pressure." I said, "I see. Well, I can take you to Home Depot for any supplies you need."

And so the Sophers built a rocket and a stand. It was touch and go during the construction phase. I want to thank the 14 year old Australian boy on YouTube who helped us perfect our water seal using scotch tape. I also want to thank the drunk hillbilly on YouTube who shot water rockets off in his backyard with a bottle and a hose and made us believe, "If he could do it, so could we."

Rog and Hagen constructed the stand out of PVC piping and I drank a fair amount of Diet Pepsi in 2 L bottles to ensure we had enough rockets.

And well... it worked. We shot off rockets. Our first rocket shot so far in the air we lost sight of it and it landed on our neighbors' roof. (There are no photos of me on a ladder with a stick trying to retrieve the rocket)

We proved a theory, not sure if it was Newton's 3rd law but we proved we can survie a science fair and take home 1st place. 

My first and only sit-in occurred at the age of ten in Miss Barke's fifth grade class. I along with all of the other girls in my class (all nine of us) decided to stop writing in cursive. We, all, for one reason or another detested the form of penmanship and had had enough.

I do not recall whose idea it was, who organized it, or many of the details, but our pact was simple - no writing in cursive.  Not in class, not for tests, not for homework and not even when that was the point of the work itself, no cursive. I was in. I am not sure what motivated the other girls to pinky promise under the tree at recess but I knew my reason...I hated cursive writing. I still do. 

Fourth grade was the year that Mrs. Pellersels stood at the chalkboard and demonstrated the motions of the "a", the loops of "l", the trickiness of the "q". I forced my hand to make new and unfamiliar motions to produce words that were harder to read and quite frankly...ugly.

You see,  I liked my penmanship.  I liked how I printed. It was one of the few things I liked about myself. I did it well.  I was facinated how my father wrote in print, all caps, as a matter of fact. I adored my cousin Val's writing and to this day wish my strokes were more like hers...all in print.

But now I was forced to connect my letters and adorn them with curls and such.  

So when I was offered the opportunity to end the nonsense, I was in. I am not sure how long our silent protest lasted before Ms. Barke noticed. Hours? Days? I remembered her warnings and clarifying to the class that she expected our work done in cursive, but we didn't budge.  When she realized her urgings and threats were not enough, she stated that anyone who wanted  to continue this printing practice needed to stay in at recess for a special meeting. I knew it, our actions were strong enough to cause change. She was going to tell us she would meet our demands. I could continue to print.

Turns out our special meeting was with the principal. He came into our class room.  He asked questions of why we objected to write cursive. I remember bravely raising my hand "Why do we have to do it all? What was the point?" His answer, "Because you do." I want to note here that this is where the story starts what will be a full circle. He then said, "You need to write in cursive when required by your teacher and if you don't... it's  in school suspension." And that's  when the girl pact collapsed. We were brave, but not really brave enough to face the rumors of what we heard to took place in ISS. And though I hated cursive,  the thought of school suspension scared me more.

I am not sure when I was required to stop writing in cursive 7^th grade? 8^th grade? But I stopped and I have never returned. I print. The closely thing to cursive is my signature which really the letters of my name in print style just connected.

So as you can imagine the joy when this week I got to sit down with Colton to help him write his spelling words in cursive…two times. He (and I) had putting it off all week.  He said he couldn't do the assignment because he said he didn't know how to write in cursive.

"Why don't you know?" I asked.

"Because when we are practicing cursive, I am actually doing other work so I don't have to go to study hall." He clarified.

"Why.." I stopped myself, with Colton it didn't matter.

So we sat together and I began to show him how to write in cursvie. I am not sure who  was struggling more...me or him. I first had to remember how and then I had to remember it correctly. I had to break 30 years of bad writing habits and returned to slants, and loops, and such. Colton actually watched intently as I demonstrated each letter of the alphabet. Hagen, like a parrot, leaned over my shoulder and chirped

"Nope."

"Wrong"

"No"

"That's the worse cursive k I have ever seen"

"Wow, you are really doing that wrong."

I shooed him away and Colton and I resumed. I should also point out that I am right handed, he is left, I make my letters in a counter clockwise motion, he makes in a clockwise motion...you get the idea.

At one point, while trying to spell "underneath" he slumped in his chair. "Mom, why do I have to do this?" My response, "Because you have to." And as you guessed it, the full circle of my story is now complete.

But we finished. It tooks two hours over the course of two nights, but we finished it.

Hagen is 11 1/2.

He is I guess what people refer to as a 'tween.

He sits somewhere between a kid and teenager. He shoots water guns, jumps in bouncy houses, periodically asks me to tie his shoes, and still believes in Santa.

But he also rolls his eyes, talks back, goes to his room and shuts his door, ignores me around his friends, and can carry on an adult conversations about the need for structural engineers in third world countries.

The tricky thing...you never know which one you are getting.

Last Friday we went to a Texas Stars hockey game. The boys first. They were thrilled. I was relaxing, talking to Rog, enjoying a beer. The kids were snacking on M&M's when Hagen (who was sitting in front of me) whips around and says "Mom" with a scared look on his face. "What?" He says it again, this time with blood running of his mouth. I hadn't even registered what was happening before Hagen jumps up and heads to the nearest sink & water. I follow. He rinses. We determine a tooth has come out. But not really since it is connected to his braces. I was perplexed, I thought he had lost all of his baby teeth. Really? You still have baby teeth at 11 1/2? Hagen is convinced he has lost a permanent tooth and starts to panic. I call our dentist who reassures us all that (based on my counting the teeth in his mouth and by its approxmiate location) this molar was destined to come out.  We all calm down. Rog and Colton return to their seats. Suddenly Hagen starts to cry and I hold him. He said he got scared and just needed a moment.  Hagen being a kid.

We hooked up with our orthodonist a few days later and he disconnected the tooth from the remaining hardware and Hagen promptly took the tooth upstairs in preparation for the tooth fairy.

It was then I made a consious decision. Really? At the age of 11, I still have to leave him money? It doesn't seem right and so I didn't. The tooth fairy did not come.  Hagen woke up the next more livid. Anger does not begin to describe his frustration, I handed him two dollars (which is all he really wanted), he grabbed the money and left. Hagen begin a teenager.

Later that day Hagen shared with me how bummed he was that the tooth fairy didn't come. I told him to sit down and I said, "Hagen, there is something I need to tell you."

"There is no tooth fairy, is there?"

"No. It's mom or dad."

Hagen was first disappointed and then said, "So why didn't you give me the money like you were suppose to?"

"Not the point. Are you ok?"

Hagen thought for a moment. "Yeah, I am ok. At least Santa is still real."

There I sat. My head spinning. Do I tell him? I mean, he can't believe forever. He will get beat up at school. We have to talk to him about sex soon, he can't know about sex but still believe in Santa. But, should it be me that tells him? That's mean. Then I said..."Hagen, about that."

"What? No Santa either?"

"No. It's mom and dad."

Hagen was silent for awhile and then said, "I guess there is no hope for the Easter Bunny"

"No"

Hagen was a kid agan. He was sad. I felt bad. Then almost as quick as a blink of an eye, Hagen started thinking differently. Now realizing, Mom & Dad were Santa he seemed to have a 11 years of feedback for Santa.

"Why did you give me this vs. that? Remember the year I really that helicopter? Why didn't you get it for me?"

It went on and on. Hagen the teenager had emerged.

I'll admit it. I am not above it when it comes to parenting. Those close to me know that the only reason Hagen is no longer in a diaper is because I gave him a train each time he went #2 in the potty.

So with less than two months to go until Christmas, I was on once again faced with  the fact that at some point I needed the perfect Christmas photo  for our Christmas card.

 It's not like it use to be when they were two and just automatically cute and wear what ever you put them in. Now they smile funny, insist on wearing orange and green, want their hair a certain way, or not want to have their photo taken at all.

And so I said to them yesterday, I am about to take your photo together and if I get the Christmas card shot, I will give you each $5.

I am proud to report...the cards are on order.