A Pause

While I wade through all the pictures from camp and Water Day, head on over to Jessie's blog and read about Kelly's trip to Prince Edward Island!

Jessie is. . . .well . . . Jessie's special, isn't she? ;-)

The Part Where I Talk About the Bus Ride

We left for camp on Sunday night. Actually, it was Monday morning. At 12:20 a.m., we rolled out of the parking lot and headed for Tennessee.

The plan was to drive all night and arrive in the afternoon. We pretty much did that, but it wasn't without adventure. The goal is to sleep on the bus and be ready for the day when we arrive.

How is one supposed to sleep when praying all night for the drive to stay awake?

We rode up with another church and they put us on the newer bus with their middle school.

Oh no, we thought. Middle school. This is going to be horrible. It would have been horrible, too, if not for Brett and Chico immediately making friends with them! In fact, Brett and Chico were pretty much idolized the entire camp time. We'd here yells of Brett! Chico! wherever we went.

Have you ever tried to sleep on a charter bus? I'm not talking one with arm rests or reclining seats, but nice seats, still. If not, try this:

Line up your dining room chairs, two next to each other. Line up two other chairs next to these with an "aisle" between them. Add a cushion. Now, try to sleep on them.

I was in the back and the youth pastor was across the aisle from me. He spotted an ideal sleeping spot right away when he saw the empty shelf at the back window. Within 15 minutes of stretching out upon it, however, he learned why it was empty.

There's heat coming up from that thing that will cook a pot roast.

It got to be pretty comical with contorting positions, pillows, and a shawl over my face (to hide the fact that my mouth was agape and drooling, of course). Just when I'd find a comfortable spot and fall asleep, the bus would pull over for a potty stop, or breakfast, or something. Or, a part of my anatomy would become numb and I'd have to shift.

I was almost relieved when one of the buses got a flat tire! We had a chance to walk around while they put on the spare.

Still, I learned something about our youth pastor that I really, really like. I mean, I've known this guy since he was in high school, and I've loved him dearly as our youth pastor. But what endeared him to me on this trip is that he instantly takes interest in whatever our kids are doing. If they're singing praise songs at 2 a.m. he doesn't hush them - he makes requests and truly enjoys their singing. If they're doing something crazy he grabs the video camera and makes suggestions for further wackiness. If they have a question he listens intently, deeply, and then searches for an answer. He loves our kids. He honestly cares about what happens to them.

I love that guy.

I love that God brought this guy back home for two of my children to have him as their high school youth pastor. I pray he stays long enough for my youngest child to enjoy him as well, though I know God is sovereign and she'll be fine if he heads off to the mission field instead. I would much, much rather have him in God's will than mine!

So, I'm thankful for the bus ride up there. Instead of driving each other crazy, I think it actually brought us closer. How wonderful.

Checking in

I fell into bed around 1:40 last night, thankful to be in my own bed again! I will be writing about the camp soon.

There were some questions in the comments section of the other posts, so I answered them there.

Since I've been with teens all week - Later, Dudes!

First Haircut

It's a pretty cool feature here at Blogspot that you can schedule when things will post. I have since left for summer camp in Tennessee, so I won't be posting again until at least Saturday (Sunday if it takes me longer to recover).



As you know, our son, Tyler, does this:
Lately when he's been playing, his hair was totally out of control. Tyler inherited the W gene that makes hair get bigger and not necessarily longer. He'd love to have long hair, but his genes won't allow it without major chemical interference.

I'd been doing a pretty good job on his hair since his first haircut at age 2. This rock hair, however, was getting to be beyond my ability. Of course I took him straight to Ruthie! So here you have it, Ty's first haircut by anyone but me!
The whole experience was a bit strange for him. Look how Mr. Twelve Foot Torso hangs off at the shampoo bowl!


I had forgotten to take a "before" picture, so I got one like this. Still, I think it's easy to see how out of control the hair had gotten.


Ruthie walked him through the whole process and let him know each step as she was doing it. She also complemented me on the "guides" I had left in his hair, which made me smile. She did so much with a razor and texture shears and that's what made all the difference. It has been almost 20 years since I've worked in a salon, so anything beyond a little boy cut or a little girl cut is more than I care to do. Besides, I really wasn't that good at it.


This is the mandatory back of the head check. He had never done this with a mirror before, so it was comical to watch him figure it out. In fact, he had never had his hair cut in front of a mirror before!

Yep, I'm liking it already. I knew Ruthie would give us what we were looking for. I had to laugh when Ty said, "It looks just like it did before, except thinner and neater and nicer."

Yes, Son, now you get it. You have to pay to have your hair thinner and neater and nicer!


And now, may I present the coolest picture of Tyler ever?



I guess there's no keeping the ear gauges from Grandma now, huh?

I think he looks great, and totally like a drummer! Thanks, Ruthie!

Dress Like a Cow Day

As I said in a previous post, 7/11 is not only free slurpee day, but it was dress like a cow day at Chik-Fil-A.

Here's a picture of our own Bessie.



We stopped in before Ty's haircut since we heard an entire herd would be showing up. Here, Bessie's escorted by her brother, Bubba.

The first of the herd begins to enter. This guy is also named Tyler, but he's not our Tyler. Out Tyler is the one NOT dressed like a cow.




Our Bessie happily joins the other Bessies. What are we supposed to call the bulls? I mean, Bessie is an obvious Cow Name. What about the bulls?


This particular one is named David. David was on the Mexico trip with Ty. Not dressed like a cow, though.


This Bessie is Aleah. We liked her eyes and her crooked smile!


Don't you just love Kelly Bessie's pigtails? I do!


And here's the entire herd! They each got a free sandwich (though I think Kelly got nuggets) and the manager took their picture. They also rang a little cowbell when they ordered.

Some people do anything for free food.

Beach Trip

When I returned from California, I had a great day hauling Kelly and her friends to the beach. Glenna and Bec the Spec came with us, though I don't have any photographic evidence of Bec. Sorry, hon!

This is the trip where I tried to make the Atlantic my friend. This is where I tried to accept the weird differences of north being on the wrong side and a serious lack of power in the waves. This is where we decided to remain acquaintances, instead.

This is also where I had to wear a hat inside the car, since teens think it's great to have the sunroof open. This is also where I had to pay a $25.00 parking ticket because I missed the meter by 22 minutes! *Disclaimer: my car does not have a sunroof. We borrowed a ride from Kate's family so we could all fit, plus the surfboard.





This is an expression Glenna wears often. It's usually sparked by something her mother, siblings, or friends are doing. It is regularly accompanied by the expression, "What are you doing?" but can also be used with, "What are you talking about?" or "What is that?" It's a handy thing to have a multi-use expression.


Kate and Chico are ready for some serious beach time. Who isn't? Chico loves to surf and has volunteered to teach us all. I have body surfed, I have boogie-boarded, but I have never stood on a surfboard.

We got to the Atlantic, and I knew I would not be surfing that day. You see, the thing about surfing is; ya gotta have waves. I asked Chico, "Where are the waves?" His reply was, "Ummm . . . " I don't blame him. It's not his faulty. Still, he's such a great teacher that both Kate and Kelly were able to at least stand and move forward on the surfboard in the ripples! Kudos, Chico!


This is a hilarious picture of Kate, Chico, and Kelly. You know, it wasn't until I downloaded this picture here that I noticed the sunglasses on Chico! I literally laugh out loud every time I see this.


Umm . . . not sure about this one. I threw it in, though. It's Kelly, and she's. Doing. Something. Yeah.




Glenna may have taken this one. It looks like something Glenna would do. You know, every time I go to type her name, it comes out as Gel first? I'm thinking the "e" finger is faster than the "l" finger. I also type "typer" before I can stop myself when typing "type." "I will help Gel typer a letter."



Love this picture. Love, love, lover it. It makes me feel typer. Doesn't Kate have the coolest green eyes ever?


On the way home, we had a serious rainstorm. I was forced to reduce my speed to a crawl at points. I then missed my turn and ended up taking the looooong way home. However, with kids like these around, the journey was worth it!

Sorry, don't have pictures of the actual beach. You can look at these though, and pretend we were there instead.

Ridin' Shotgun

At some point, each of my children have progressed from the back seat to the front seat. It was a major stepping stone of growth and maturity. It meant they were now large enough to be safe if the air bag went off.

With this graduation came great power.

What is it with a child in the front seat? Suddenly, they feel free to control all the knobs, buttons, and dials within reach. I have practically not touched a radio in nine years. My AC unit is continually adjusted to the perfect fan power and temperature. Thank goodness the side mirror adjustment is out of reach!

My Kelly is starting to drive, and it's my turn to ride shotgun.

Heh, heh, heh.

Revenge is sweet.