Burnin' Ring of Fire

We thought we'd recognize the dying embers of summer with a campfire. Not sure why, but just like everything else we didn't make time for this summer, this was our first fire in months.

Daddy was responsible for cutting the grass in the backyard today in preparation, plus filling the cooler. Mommy was responsible for s'mores and photos. Carter, well, he got the stick.

Actually that's a big responsibility to be in charge of the fire stick. It's also tied in with the responsibility of adding logs, branches, sticks, whatever burns, to keep the fire going.

He did pretty well. Of course, just about the point we're relaxing, listening to the chorus of crickets in the creek and getting mesmerized by the glowing coals, here comes Stick Man to stir things up!

It's just like life, isn't it? Just about the point things are on an even keel, we dare to say things are going well, God comes along to stir things up, testing our faith, our patience, our love. And stirring us to action, sometimes as simple as prayer.

On Tuesday, my father-in-law will undergo triple-bypass surgery. To date, most of our health concerns have been with my parents, who are about 10 years older than hubby's. It sort of took us by surprise. But not entirely. We can't expect a person to smoke for decades and not suffer some health consequences down the road. We just always hope our loved ones are the lucky few who skate by unscathed.

We realize heart surgery is "routine" in many respects, but that doesn't mean we won't have a few worries -- make that "concerns to carry to God" -- about the operation and recovery. I'm sure he'll be fine. We must remember how fortunate we are that the problems were diagnosed early enough to be fixed. Some people, many who end up dying of a heart attack, don't get that warning.

I guess God just needed to stir up our fire a bit so we weren't taking all of our blessings for granted. He's the ultimate Stick Man. I'll have to be a bit more tolerant (read: less annoyed) than we were with Carter. And also remember that if it gets too hot, sometimes we just need to scoot our chair back a ways so we don't get burned. Leave the fire tending in someone else's hands.

Winner's Circle

After missing Colin's stock car feature win last weekend, we were out to prove this weekend that our absence wasn't the lucky charm.

It is pretty unlikely that a driver will win two weekends in a row so it was not a complete surprise he finished 10th in the feature last night at Golden Sands. We figured we better give it another try tonight in Marshfield. And I'm so glad we did.

Colin's qualifying time was good. He finished second in the heat race, which concluded with some drama we don't need to get into here. Let's just say we were a bit anxious about what might unfold during the 20-lap feature. We just hoped for a fair, clean race.

Thankfully, that's what we got. Colin started near the back of the pack and made his way toward the front. A minor crash (not him) with 8 laps to go put him in the lead and no one came close to him again after the restart. He won! His first time winning the Superstock feature at the Marshfield Super Speedway -- and just like at Golden Sands Speedway, probably their youngest driver to do so. Yea, Colin!

Maybe we are the good-luck charm after all! We went into the pits afterward to congratulate him. Since he started school already this past week, I said, "Don't ya just hope your teachers on Tuesday ask what you did over the weekend and you can say, 'Oh, I just won a feature'?"

The big, braces-filled grin told me he is looking forward to telling a few people. And he should! I'm sure my only accomplishment three days into 9th grade was memorizing my new locker combination.

Keep up the good work, Colin! We're so proud of you!

Working for the Weekend

TGIF! While a lot of people are taking today off to make it a really long weekend, hubby and I are going to tough it out at work.

Our company did a nice thing for its employees this summer. Recognizing that productivity drops significantly on Friday afternoons, lost among thoughts of tee times and out-of-town travels, they instituted "summer hours," letting us out for good behavior at 3 p.m. on Fridays. That's been pretty nice. Another part of summer you hate to see end.

Unlike Mommy and Daddy, Carter does have the day off. He is going with a friend to the Central Wisconsin State Fair in Marshfield. They stayed at the friend's grandparents last night and, judging from the talk of waffles for breakfast, it sounds like he'll be spoiled all day. He needs that. Carter doesn't get enough love and attention (right).

Tonight we'll all head out to Golden Sands Speedway to see nephew Colin race. Do you remember last Friday? We had a bunch of things going on -- golf outing, family visiting, etc. Well we didn't make it to his race on Friday night. And guess what? He won! At 14, he may be the youngest driver in Wisconsin to win a SuperStock feature. How cool is that! We're hoping for a repeat tonight. I'll bring the camera just in case! If not, he's racing in Marshfield tomorrow night.

Other than two nights of racing, we're hoping to just relax and enjoy the long weekend, the last free one until football wraps up in October. I don't even want to think about that.

I'll maybe soak up some sun, maybe talk the guys into some golf, maybe manage to avoid LABOR of any kind on Labor Day Weekend! Enjoy yours!

Carter Blog :: Happy Camper

Today was Carter's last day at Kidz Camp, the childcare program held at the Iola Fitness Center this summer. He shares some thoughts on summer:

Some of the things I'll miss most about Kidz Camp are swimming (every day!), dodge ball (and lots of it!), playground, watching the Olympics, playing with my friends.

One thing I won't miss is PB&J sandwiches. I had the same lunch every day (my idea) and wore a plain white t-shirt just about every day, too (not so very white).

Every week we had a different theme. Some of my favorites were American Idol Week, Pirate Week (arrrgh!), Olympic Week and Sport Week.

I met some cool people that I only get to see in the summer since they go to school in Iola. The friends I liked to hang with were Harry, Drew, Josh, Lucas, Erick, Charlie, J.D. and Bradley. My favorite counselors were Sam I am, Jeff, Mark, Ben, Sarah, Anne and Andrews.

It was fun getting to go to golf lessons and going to Shivers once in a while. (I wish it was every day. So does Mom.)

Can't wait to go back next year!

Carter "Batman" Austin

Class is in Session (almost)

Carter's afterschool sitter called to see if he is planning to ride the bus to her house again this year. I told her: "I hate when you call. That means summer's over!"

Indeed it is. Carter has changed the lyrics to Alice Cooper's "School's out for summer..." and has been singing "School starts forever!" I guess he thinks summer has gone by too fast, too.

This afternoon he had an open house at Grant Elementary to drop off school supplies and meet his teacher. He also got to see who will be in his class (since his age group is divided into 3 rooms) and where his desk is.

The first thing he noticed was not that he is kitty-corner from his buddy Joey, but that he will be sitting next to the girl he claims he hates and affectionately calls "Misery." He lets out a groan and his teacher said the girl had done the same thing when she was there earlier. Carter's face sure turned red for someone who doesn't care about Misery's opinion.

The teacher seems pretty nice. She mentioned she had hoped she'd get Carter in her class. She probably says that to all the kids, but our boy may have started his first fifth-grade crush right then and there. We'll see what develops.

I'm sure it will be another interesting school year with plenty of entertaining blog material!

To know me is to love me ... and me, too!

I wonder sometimes if I have a split personality. And I wonder sometimes, too.

Seriously, how is it a person can be an anal retentive perfectionist on one hand and a lazy, anti-domestic clutterbug on the other? It just doesn't match up, does it? But that's me. And me, too!

I went to the fitness center over lunch hour today. I wanted to show a friend of mine (who shall remain nameless) this new weight-lifting/strength-training program I've been doing for a few weeks. Trust me, I'm not planning to bulk up here. It's more of a rehab program for my pathetic back than anything else. Though I look forward to the benefit of some toning (hopefully) at some point way, way down the road.

So I asked my friend if she knew how to work the machines and she said, "Oh yeah, I used to lift. I bet I even still have a sheet here." The sheet she referred to is a nice chart we use to keep track of when we lift, how much weight we lift, how many reps we do and so on. I think one side of the sheet has enough columns for about 30 workouts. It's a great tool when we're starting out and gradually building up weights and reps.

My friend checks in the files and sure enough, her yellow chart sheet is still there. We both look at it and start laughing. On the sheet she has the top marked 2005 over about 6 workouts, then a vertical line drawn and 2006 marked over the next 6 or so workouts, then a vertical line drawn and 2007 written over the top of 4 columns I think... then nothing. All her weight workouts in four years not even filling out one side of the sheet. Vertical lines drawn with good intentions to start over and mean it this time!

I am howling with laughter now. "Are you my twin? My clone?" I ask. I point to the sheet, "That is so me!!" Start something and the ADD kicks in and I am bored and I quit. Or it is too darn hard to keep it up so my lazy personality kicks in and says, "Pass the mint ice cream."

It can never be easy, can it? I think about how many things I have started, and stopped, and started again, in the past few years under the guise of getting slimmer and healthier or just improving me.

About the only thing I've stuck with is this blog. And that's not getting me any skinnier or any richer. But it does prove one of me can do something and stick with it. Let's see if the others follow suit... and soon!

Lordy, Lordy, the Temperature is 40!

While we were sleeping last night, Jack Frost sneaked into the neighborhood, and the temps dipped down to 40! It was bad enough we practically had to wait until May Day for the snow to melt. Now Autumn is creeping in and (gasp!) we're still wearing white!

Contrary to the belief that cool temperatures make "good sleeping weather," I just couldn't sleep last night. The culprit: ABBA.

I went to see the movie Mamma Mia yesterday afternoon and "Dancing Queen" has been dancing through my head ever since!

I actually ended up going to the movie by myself, something I'd never done before. But when I found out it was still playing, I had about 15 minutes to get ready -- and that is clearly not enough time to convince, coerce, bribe hubby to go with me. In the end, I was fine with that. I would definitely classify this one as a "chick flick." So girls, go see it! You'll love it, I promise!

So back to this "sleeping weather." I am wondering if I was singing "Take a Chance on Me" or something in my sleep because hubby was up, showered and out the door before my alarm went off! I guess I better pop in a different CD on the way home tonight. I hear it's going to be chilly again and I intend to take advantage of it!

Rest Stop

My sister RoAnn and husband Ken rolled into town on their motorcycle Friday. They had ridden from Minnesota down to the House on the Rock by Dodgeville, then took a detour over to our place as a "rest stop" on their trip Friday and Saturday. They headed home this morning.

When they arrived Friday, Carter took them out to eat and did, as promised, keep them entertained while hubby and I enjoyed our golf outing. (By the way, Jim's team tied for first and I got a prize for longest drive. Fun afternoon!)

On Saturday, we let our guests sleep in but they joined us later at the scrimmage. That's pretty cool. We rarely get out-of-town family visiting when Carter is playing in his sports so it was nice he had an extra audience of supporters.

Despite weather forecasts of rain and scattered storms, we had a perfectly sunny day. We ended up going down to The Lure Bar & Grill on Lake Petenwell for supper. (For trivia buffs, Lake Petenwell is the second largest lake in Wisconsin.)


We enjoyed a gorgeous sunset while waiting for our food. After the meal, we took a picture on the breezy beach (at right) with just the traces of the sunset left.

Carter also challenged Auntie Ro and me to a game of pool. He plays every day at Kidz Camp so assumed he'd kick our butts. He forgets Ro and I play once a year or every other year during our sisters weekend so we can be in top pro shape at the drop of a hat (or 3 quarters). Yes, we beat him after a long sloppy game. I told him, "Your aunts and I always get our money's worth!"

This morning, before our special guests headed home, Ken gave Carter a brief ride on the motorcycle just around our subdivision circle. Carter gave it a "thumbs up"! RoAnn and Ken just got the bike this spring and both say it is a comfy ride. Good thing, since they still have a few hundred miles to go before they get home today. I'm glad I called in ahead and ordered a perfectly sunny day for them! Nothing but the best for family, right?

Scrimmage Snapshots

Football teams from five cities visited Wisconsin Rapids today for the Rapids Raptors football scrimmage. There were nine fields and 19 teams so the format followed was that Carter's team for example, would scrimmage with a team for about 20 minutes, then rotate to another field and face another opponent for 20 minutes, and so on. Since there was an odd number of teams, each team would get a "bye" somewhere in there to rest.

Here are few snapshots of the day's action:

This photo makes Carter seem deceivingly big. It's just the camera angle folks. His uniform, in fact, is what was too big. He did end up exchanging his large pants for a pair of mediums. Which was good, because he claimed his pants were "distracting."


Carter split his time between playing noseguard and tightend. Here he is a "decoy" tightend. The ball was routed on the other side but decoys are important, too. (Plus moms like that they don't get hit as often.)

Carter talks strategy with his coach on the sideline. You can see the coach is focused on what's happening on the field. That's good. This was probably shot when Carter was telling him his game pants are too big.

See little Carter Austin lined up opposite their center (guy with the ball). You can see we were up against some larger teams. The good news for Carter is that by the end of the day, he had his game on. As he explained it (since I was working in the concessions stand and missed it), he grabbed the center and threw him down. Got to the running back and he and a teammate tackled him! He was very excited about that play. And we were pleased he ended the day on a high note -- not to mention only a handful of new bruises and no injuries!

Juggling Act

Typical of summer, everything seems to fall on one square of the calendar, forcing you to choose activities or in superhuman fashion, squeeze it all in or be two places at once. That's our challenge for this weekend.

About a month ago, Jim and I signed up for a company golf scramble taking place this afternoon. We knew we'd have to find childcare arrangements for Carter, since Kidz Camp isn't open that late. Since then, we've also added a Saturday morning football scrimmage to the calendar and my sister and brother-in-law indicated they would be visiting. All important things we're very excited about!

After much juggling and a healthy dose or two of ibuprofen, we think we've got this figured out today.

We actually left Carter at home and he called my sister-in-law after he got up and ate breakfast and she picked him up for the day. (This in itself is a huge deal since he has not been left alone before. He did OK. He was supposed to "sleep in" and not call his aunt until 9 a.m. But he got up as soon as we left and had 2 hours to kill. To help pass the time, he called me to chat awhile, asking me what he could do around the house and filling me in on sports scores. "Mom, they're saying some good things about the Twins today" and "Kitty and I really miss you." Deep breaths...)

When my sister and brother-in-law get to our house sometime this afternoon, Carter will be delivered and will provide an abundance of entertainment until we get home tonight. If we are not home by 8:30, he still has to go to bed (it's game day tomorrow!) but must provide complete instructions on how to operate the remote first.

Now that I think about it, that's a lot of responsibility for a fifth-grader. All I have to worry about today is hitting a golf ball long and straight and not letting my team down. I guess I don't have it so rough! (Oops, remind me not to say rough before golfing!)

Learning Curve

You often hear people comment, "I learn something new every day." Not sure where that phrase initiated or if, indeed, it is a truth for everyone. Nonetheless, here are a few things I have "learned" in recent days.

Better Suited: Carter and I caught a little bit of the platform diving competition on the Olympics last night. I said, "Isn't it amazing they are jumping from three stories high and traveling at 35 mph when they hit the water?" Carter responds, "I don't get how their suit stays on. Mine always starts to fall off."

No Pain, No Gain: Did you know moms can get football injuries, too? Sometime before the scrimmage this Saturday, we have to get Carter's name sewn on his jersey. When I say we, I mean me, the undomestic goddess. Now it sounds simple enough, but there's a trick to it. I have to make it secure enough so it won't get ripped off in a tough tackle, but loose enough it can be removed easily at the end of the season. Not to mention it should be centered and straight. It took me two hours -- and multiple stab wounds to my fingers -- to complete. I know now that I am not cut out for the pain associated with football. At least Carter's tough!

A Rose is Still a Rose: What's in a name? Carter has mentioned on a few occasions this summer that he would like to go to Kidz Camp early because his favorite counselor, Sam, would be working. Part of the camp program this summer has included earning "Kidz Bucks" to use for "buying" special privileges such as playing Guitar Hero. Last week, Carter "bought" some one-on-one time with Sam and they went to Shivers. This week, Mommy learned Sam's full name is Samantha.

There's lots to learn out there, folks. Lots to learn.

Souper-Man

I gave a friend from Rapids a ride home from work today. She hadn't seen Carter in awhile so they had ample time to catch up.

He was telling her that he was looking forward to fifth grade because he'll get to dissect a deer heart and some fifth-graders will be dissecting frogs, too. "This is the year we start to do stuff!" he said.

She asked him if he knew what he wanted to be when he grows up. At first he said he wasn't sure. "I don't know if it's something my mom will like." So she replied, "That's alright. I'm sure your mom will be happy with whatever you decide as long as it makes you happy -- whether you're a doctor or a writer or a teacher."

Then Carter pipes up, "I think I want to make soup cans."

"You mean design them?" I asked, thinking cool, an engineer of some sort.

"No," he said. "I mean fill cans with soup. I'd get to press all those buttons. Wouldn't that be cool?"

Try as I might, I could not stop myself from bursting out laughing. Here's this creative, inventive kid and he would love to just press buttons all day. "That might seem fun at first," I said, "But imagine doing the exact same thing for 8 hours! It would probably get boring. Maybe you can get a part-time job in high school and test it out." (He also can ask Daddy about the joys of working at the belt buckle factory after college!)

No offense to assembly-line workers. We definitely need them. I just think it's not the job for ADD me. But now that I think about it. The way work has been going lately, I wouldn't mind a predictable 8 hours once in awhile! Maybe the soup man's onto something. We'll keep you posted.

Crunch Time

Standing on the sidelines during football practice tonight, I saw a coach walking by with a kid holding a cloth up to his nose. It was slowly turning red as blood seeped into the fabric.

Being the squeamish type, I turned away, but not before coming to the realization that injuries are a very real part of football. And the probability of said injuries is likely pretty high. This was confirmed later when I saw a kid with his right cleat off, walking gingerly off the field with the aid of another player.

Since my son is the runt of the litter on his team, I am guessing we need to be prepared that he is going to get run over. That it is going to hurt. And that it could cause an injury.

So far, especially since he was warned "there is no whining in football," he has not complained about aches and pains. Merely pointed out the other day, "I have 19 bruises."

Tonight on the way to practice, I asked him what his favorite part about football is so far. He said he wasn't sure. I said, "OK, then is there anything you don't like?" Nope, he said, "I like it all."

That's wonderful! I hope he has the same response after his scrimmage Saturday. I guess if I videotape his games, I can still squeeze my eyes shut when I hear that "crunch!"

Dancing with the Stars

They mentioned on the radio this morning that it's Patrick Swayze's birthday. Funny, he just happened to be on my mind.

I caught part of Dirty Dancing on TV yesterday. For those of us chicks who like the movie, we can pretty much count on finding it somewhere on cable at least once a month. I rarely see it from beginning to end, but if I can just sit down and watch it for 15 minutes, I can get my fix.

So they said that Patrick is 56 today. 56! Now, before you go thinking I have this thing for older men (i.e. Erik Estrada, Henry Winkler, etc), it just happens that Mr. Swayze was my first brush with fame. Well almost.

In 1995, I moved to Wisconsin Rapids to work at the daily newspaper. One day in December, someone called the office and said, "Did you hear Patrick Swayze was in town?!" The managing editor asked if I wanted to cover the story. Are you kidding me? I eeked out a hyperventilated "Yes!"

As it happened, by the time the tip had been called in, the hip-swiveling star was already on his plane back to California. So it was one of those after-the-fact stories the readers of a small-town paper like to read about -- even if we clearly missed the boat. (It was my first story to make the national wire, though, so I had that small victory to hang my dancing shoes on!)

I did uncover that the reason he was in town was to see his orthopaedic surgeon, who'd recently moved to the area from California as well. I had a good interview with the doctor, who told about me about Patrick's bad knees -- due to dancing on Broadway, etc, not just on the Big Screen. The good doctor felt badly that I missed the story but promised that the next time Patrick was in town, he's call me and I'd get the interview.

For months I waited for that call. I mean, shouldn't you try to see your knee surgeon on a regular basis? As my luck (or very bad luck) would have it, during that same time frame, HIPPA regulations went into effect. Those are the federal privacy rules that say our doctors can't tell anyone who they are treating and why -- and they certainly can't tell a star-struck reporter that her heart throb is in town.

Dang! I imagine by now he's got his own local doctors so I can't expect to see him sashaying down the streets of Rapids anytime soon (make that, never!). But you never know. Stranger things have happened to me and my quest to meet the stars -- let alone dance with them or snuggle with them.

Happy birthday, Johnny Castle!

For Goodness Snake!

The quest to rid our yard of rodents and pests seems never ending. For years, we've tried without success to banish the mole population in the back yard. Each summer, we also have our share of bee and wasp nests to eliminate with our magic can of killer foam. Today Carter saw something of a slithering nature.

He had a friend over for the afternoon and they were out playing football. He tells me the story after his friend leaves.

"Mom, I had to pee so I went over by the pine trees."

Mom interrupts, "Why were you going to pee outside when the house is right here?" I shouldn't have been surprised if he answered, "Because I can." But he didn't.

"Mom, I just really had to go. So I'm standing there and when I look down there's a garter snake. Black and red!"

I tell him I don't know what kind of snake that really is but in my mind I'm thinking some poisonous fang variety. (I hate snakes!) "Did you show your friend?"

"No, I ran over to Nathan and we waited like 5 minutes. We didn't see any movement in the grass or anything, but when we went back over there, it was gone!"

He joked, I think, that now when he has to go to the bathroom, he's going to worry there'll be snakes there. I suppose if he goes indoors like most humans, he'll reduce the odds.

I just know I am not going to be volunteering to mow the front yard next time! Yikes.

Triumph

Triumph: 1. To be victorious; win; prevail. 2. To rejoice; exult.

No matter how many times they show the replay of the men's 100m Butterfly final, I can't get over the finish! Tonight, Michael Phelps was going for his 7th gold medal in one Olympics game, which would tie American swimmer Mark Spitz, who did the same in the 1972 Olympics.

Right before the race, I said to Carter, it would be cool for Phelps to win but I wouldn't be disappointed if his teammate, Ian Crocker won. He finished behind Phelps in the last Olympics and deserves a win, too. Before the race was even to the halfway point, though, we realized there was a possibility neither one of them may win. So that's when the screaming started.

Here we are sitting on the couch together in central Wisconsin, cheering our hearts out. "C'mon, Michael!" Our adrenaline was pumping. He hadn't had this close of a race yet and this time he was behind! We just kept holding each other and cheering. I didn't even realize Carter was biting into my shoulder but that's how tense it was.

When the race finished, it looked like Phelps finished second so we had that crestfallen moment of silence, just letting out a big breath. Then they flashed the results on the screen and we saw Phelps won! We both screamed -- so loud Jim, who was in the garage (didn't hear him come home), could hear us. Carter was waving his flag, saying, "I'm so glad I'm American!"

We had quite an inspirational evening actually. Before we turned the Olympics on, we watched the movie "Rudy." I had never seen it but someone recommended it recently. They said now that Carter is in football, he'd probably enjoy it. The movie is based on a true story of a boy, undersized by college football standards, who dreamed of playing for Notre Dame. Eventually, his dream was realized, but the story illustrates the drive and sacrifices it took to reach that moment of triumph. Very moving. We highly recommend it!

So we were pretty wired, not wanting to go to bed right away. Daddy joked Carter could get gold medals if "putzing" was an Olympic event. I've mentioned before, he's a good staller when it comes to bedtime. So after the third time telling him to go brush his teeth, Carter says in his TV announcer voice: "And Carter Austin is going for his 9th career Olympic gold medal..."

At least the kid has goals.

Needle in a Haystack

Watching our kids practice for Rapids Raptor football is a lot tougher than you'd think. The toughest part? Finding our kids!

Last week, when it first started, it was "helmets only" practice. So you figure you can find your son based on what he was wearing that day. Who knew there were so many shades of gray and white T-shirts and black shorts out there? By the end of the week, I figured I'd fool the system and put Carter in red shorts. Other moms must have had the same idea because there was an abundance of red shorts that night -- along with the indistinguishable gray and white T-shirts, naturally.

This week, they are practicing in full pads. Most of the families purchased the maroon practice jersey, too, so we have the same challenge.

Do you see what I mean? I actually know Carter is the one on the far left, but only because I had to pay attention that his white T-shirt was hanging below the practice jersey!

The other fun this week is that the coach is trying the players out in different positions to see what best suits their skills. Since Carter is a newbie this year, they are still trying to find that perfect spot.

I have been surprised to see him blocking but that seems to be where they are leaning. He was very excited during a scrimmage-type setup tonight that he got in on some tackles -- and even got to the QB once.

I just sat there on the sidelines, wincing every time I'd hear the "crunch" of another tackle. We just got our game schedule tonight. Seven games! I have a feeling this isn't going to get any easier for us moms who don't want our babies growing up and getting hurt. But then again, it's not about me, is it?

Maybe the toughest part about practice isn't finding our son like a needle in a haystack. It's finding him and being willing to let him go.

Silver Lining

There are two facts that have been reinforced so far during these Olympic games. One is that I am too old to be staying up so late watching live coverage. Two -- and more importantly -- is that I am not only proud, but thankful, to be an American. Living in the Land of the Free.

Last night while watching the women's gymnastic finals, I was satisfied the U.S. women took home the silver. Based on their performance, they probably wouldn't argue they deserved better. The Chinese, however, would have accepted nothing less than another team Gold. Now I know why.

I learned a thing or two about China's program last night. For the women at least, the gymnasts are chosen for the program just out of daycare. The gymnastics program and quest for the Gold becomes their life. I mean literally. They have limited contact with family. They become a "ward of the state," so to speak.

Is a Gold medal that important it is obtained at the expense of family? At the expense of childhood?

I've heard of -- and seen -- pushy POAs (parents of athletes). Yes, it takes time and dedication to succeed at a sport, well, anything really. But I'd hate to be the parent of a child who was so goal-focused, they woke up one day and realized they're 18 and missed being a kid. (It's bad enough I wake up most days and wonder where my 30s went!)

As our first "real" football season gets under way, I'll be curious to see if I learn something valuable from the other parents. Or if my darn competitive instincts take over and I become one of those POAs. Let's hope we all remember that this is for the kids, not us, and just like with the Olympics, it's not a life-or-death situation where he must succeed.

This is America. Where we have the freedom of choices. And even have the freedom to fail.

"This is how we roll..."

I always enjoy watching the Olympics. One can't help being inspired by the stories of struggle, sacrifice and success. To a person, it is each athlete's lifelong dream to compete in the Games. A medal, well that's a bonus!

Being a typical chick, I am a big fan of gymnastics. I know it's something I couldn't dream of doing (well most of the events are!), so I sit in awe of what they can do. Sure, I love all the speed events, too, like swimming and track. But the gymnastic competitions take some choreography to add entertainment (and difficulty) to the skill.

Last night I found myself staying up pretty darn late to cheer on the American men's team. The underdogs. It was worth being tired today to see that drama unfold. I've never seen third-place finishers so happy. They were so excited just to get a medal, apparently something many people thought was not a possibility after two of their top teammates bowed out before the Olympics.

Jumping and hugging when the final results were displayed, they said into the television camera, "This is how we roll, America! We don't give up."

I see a lot of that attitude, thankfully, among the politics and negative distractions that naturally accompany the Olympics. We need to think about that more. Think about goals. Think about working as a team. Think about giving something our best instead of settling for a half-hearted effort. Think about pride. Think -- and believe -- that dreams can come true.

I think they do. I plan to tune in again tonight and I'll bet I'm right. Go USA!

I Pledge Allegiance...

Carter is in this quandary right now about which baseball team to support. To date, he's never declared himself a fan of any one team.

He'll cheer for the Twins for Mommy's sake, the Cubs to support Grandpa and the Reds because it's Daddy's team -- and he likes Ken Griffey Jr. Now that Griffey's been traded to the Sox, however, Carter realizes he's more a fan of the left-handed slugger than of Daddy's bottom-dwelling team from Ohio. So should he be a (gasp!) White Sox fan?

For some reason, he feels it's imperative he makes this decision sooner rather than later. Armed with a list of the current MLB standings, he studied the league on the way to Milwaukee yesterday, crossing off teams he knows he'd never cheer for.

He was wise enough to immediately cross off any teams from New York or L.A. (I realize it's a different sport, but that's a holdover from his anti-Lakers' sentiment in the NBA Finals). Knowing how much he likes Griffey and how much I (or any Twins fan) dislikes the White Sox, I quietly urged him to consider the Brewers. There's no shame in that! We are in Wisconsin, after all, and we do know a lot of Crew fans.

After seeing the Phillies among his final 5 (who is a Phillies fan these days?!), I also suggested he take his time and figure it out when it feels right. You can't just pick a team off a list, you should feel it in your heart, I said. Judging by the "goose bumps" he got at the Brewers game, I thought for sure he'd go with the Blue. But no, he's made his decision. It's Griffey and the White Sox. (groan)

On an unrelated note, if anyone is looking for a roommate, there is a 10-year-old who will be kicked to the curb tonight...

Lucky Charms

The Brewers greet Gabe Kapler at home plate after he hit a walk-off homerun in the bottom of the 13th inning Sunday.

We certainly got our money's worth out of our trip to Milwaukee today. It took the Brewers 13 innings to put away the Nationals at Miller Park. A 4+ hour game preceded by tailgating. Not a bad way to spend a sunny Sunday afternoon .... for a family of non-Brewers fans.

Since an old newspaper friend of ours moved to the Milwaukee area, we'd made it a priority to get together with some other news hounds to watch the Crew. More often than not, we've picked a game where they play the Reds, so Jim has someone to cheer for. This year, however, since the Brewers are in the pennant race and a record number of games have been sold out, we took what we could get.

Being the good friends we are, we decided ahead of time we'd cheer for the Brew Crew. Not hard to do. There was so much excitement in the air from the moment we entered the parking lot! Had some fun grilling and gabbing in the sunshine before the 1:05 p.m. start.

Game seemed to get going pretty slowly in terms of scoring but that all changed in the 6th inning. Then it was pretty exciting 'til the end. Our seats were pretty high up -- fourth level -- but we definitely felt a part of the action. Carter even said once, "I've got goose bumps!" Pretty cool.

As we watched the scoreboard ticker from around the league, I kept an eye on my Twins, also going in extra innings against the Royals. The Twins weren't as fortunate but there's a whole lotta baseball yet to be played this season. Maybe we should get to a few of their games in the Dome. Carter has officially declared us "lucky charms." I'm willing to see if he's right.

Making the Cut

I remember being anxious as a child to finally be considered old enough to operate the lawn mower. The main reason? My twin and I were often relegated to "clipping" duty and we hated that! So any chance of "moving up" the mowing ladder was welcomed. As with most adult chores we were eager to try, the fun usually wore off and it is just that -- a chore.

Today Carter got to cut the grass -- or a small square of it anyway -- for the first time. Of course, Mommy was a bit nervous about lost fingers and toes, especially after he joked he was going to mow barefoot! Thankfully, they have so many safety features built in compared to when I was his age 3 decades ago. I felt a little better about it.

So Daddy showed him how to start the mower, follow the cutting path and turn a good corner. My job, as usual, was to take pictures for the blog and scrapbook!

Carter's stint lasted a mere half hour, just enough for him to declare it fun. "I want to do that again!" he said. Oh, I bet he'll have many, many chances now!

Crazy Eights

Today is 08-08-08. It seems since the start of this new millenium, people have been making a big deal out of dates like that, especially 06-06-06 a few years back. While the big news event today should be the start of the Olympics, there was some special attention on the local news this evening about babies born today.

I mean really, what's the big deal? Three numbers strung together? Perhaps 8 on its own isn't that significant, or is it? Here's where 8 means something in my life...

8 R's: There are 8 kids in my family. No, we're not Catholic (we're Lutheran). And yes, our names all start with the letter R (Rayna, Romey, Renell, RoAnn, Ronald, Rachel, Robyn and Raylene). Growing up, I recall people often referred to our family as LeRoy and Marlys and the 8 R's. When I asked my mom in a recent family-tree interview why she named us all with R's, her clever response: "I guess I was in a r-r-r-rut!" (And people wonder where I get my sense of humor!)

8 ounces: I have been striving this year to drink 8 8-ounce servings of water every day. I've been getting better at it. It's becoming more of a habit than a forced way of thinking, but I still have a long ways to go in my goals of making healthy choices -- especially when it comes to ice cream and exercise. Good thing we strive for progress, not perfection!

8 hours: This means two things to me. One, I don't recall when I last had a job that I only worked 8 hours a day -- that I was an hourly employee instead of a salaried one. Which just means I don't get that "overtime" some people groan over and others covet. Two, I like to get close to 8 hours of sleep each night. When I get 7 or less, I feel like crap the next day. Hubby thinks it's all in my head, but my stomach says differently. And it's not like I'm in bed at 8 p.m. (there's one 8 I don't need -- yet).

8-tee (as in '80s): As a teenager of the '80s, I remain devoted to, uplifted by, but not quite obsessed with my '80s music. And I don't know why. I guess there must be some happy memories of youth buried in the be-bop. It's not like there was any depth to the lyrics. There were more one-hit wonders than standout talents. But I just like it. And I'm not forcing anyone to grab their neon sunglasses and join me. So chill.

8 strokes: This unfortunately was the score on two of my holes at Glen Cairn this afternoon. After work we took Carter and our friend Tom golfing. Carter thinks Tom is cool because he has a cool nickname, T-Bar, and he is pretty cool all-around. I had some good drives but some paltry chip shots and too many 3-putts. I was lucky I only carded two snowmen! Carter, on the other hand, did a little better this time out. He shaved 8 strokes off his previous score. Now that's an 8 worth celebrating!

Voted best drama on television ...

I used to think Grey's Anatomy was the best drama on television. But I'd have to say this Brett Favre soap opera sure has been one helluva ride.

While it's true there's been no love for the Packers in our house of Purple Pride. We have, however, always respected Favre's athletic ability. How could you not? He was always a threat to us whether he was at home at his revered Lambeau Field or in our cursed dome of doom.

When he announced his retirement (this is where the reporter in me says alleged retirement) in March, there was sadness among Packers fans but what I'd call a sense of relief among other fans in the NFC North. In Title Town, though, he was riding out as a hero, placed on a pedestal, all honor to their king.

When they announced they were planning to retire his jersey at this fall's season opener against the Vikes, Carter said, "Ha! They're retiring his jersey!" and did one of his "Oh yeah, uh-huh" dances. We had to explain that is wasn't a slam against Favre, it was actually quite an honor to retire someone's jersey. We figured he was just too young to grasp what was happening.

I hadn't realized how closely he was following the latest merry-go-round of news -- other than the fact we weren't sure how we would feel about seeing a #4 purple and yellow jersey this year. I think Carter was relieved to learn this morning that Brett was going to a different team. His only response? "Wow, the Jets sure are spending a lot of money in the off-season." Now where did that come from? Apparently he's been watching every episode of this mini-series!

I guess it will be good for Brett to go to New York. If it doesn't work out on the field, there's always a place for drama queens on Broadway.

Practice makes (picture) perfect

I have this goal that while Carter is conditioning this week, I am doing the same -- walking laps on the school grounds for at least an hour. I did that last night but also managed to get a few shots of practice drills.


This gives you an idea of how many kids are going out for the Rapids Raptors program. Hubby estimates about 150 or so. They will be drafted and assigned teams at the end of this week based on their practice performance. How in the world do they keep track of all that?


Carter (on the right) learns he may face some mighty big 6th-graders this season!


Carter does the Raptor shuffle ... I think he learned that move from me.


On your mark, get set, go! What? Where's Carter? You mean he's not the only one wearing a white T-shirt and black shorts? Now, you know why I took so few photos. He was hard to spot!

No Pain, No Gain

This morning, as the 10-year-old rolled out of bed with a few moans and groans, I'm pretty sure he grasped the meaning of the word "conditioning." Honestly, it could have been worse, says the mother from the sidelines...

Last evening was Carter's first practice with the Rapids Raptors. He was quite nervous on the way, not knowing what to expect. When we got to the school, hubby had me stay in the car. We didn't want Carter to be embarrassed if I was the only mom there. But sitting in the car, I saw lots of moms walking their sons to the field -- and not coming back.

Our plan was to run a few errands and then sneak back to the practice so Carter couldn't see us. It is a known fact that boys often become drama queens about perceived injuries, etc., when their mommies are around. As it turned out, there are hundreds of parents who are oblivious to this -- or just choose to ignore it. When we got back to the practice, I kid you not, there were about 200 parents there on the sidelines. When they had a water break, Carter bolted to his Gatorade, drank it and ran out to the field, unaware we were there. I was OK with that -- especially when the one coach yelled, "Alright, kiss your mommies and get back on the field!"

As far as the practice itself went, the kids (enough for 5 5th-6th grade teams, I think) rotated by groups to do different drills -- passing, running, rolling, handoffs, etc. I call it "conditioning in disguise." Although it didn't seem like much, Carter was sweating a lot (which, he was happy to realize, made it easier to get the tight helmet off).

This morning he was aching in his back, his legs and his mouth (where the mouth guard caused a blister). I said each day it will feel a little better .... until next week when he actually gets hit!

He's still pretty excited about it. There are quite a few kids he knows from school and baseball so he should end up on a team with somebody he knows. The next three nights are sort of like tryouts, where all the coaches will be observing and making notes before the "draft" at the end of the week. ... And parents like us will continue to spy from the sidelines.

Weekend Outtakes

Sometimes when I blog, it's a rush job and I forget to mention details I intended to include .. or things happen that just don't warrant their own post (usually that just means I don't have time to get on the computer, type and post). So as they say in the film business, here are few outtakes from the weekend that didn't make the original cut...

Zip Your Lips: While I was riding on the Zipper at the Scandy Corn Fest, I apparently was doing more than screaming. At one point, after quite a few consecutive flips, we were finally sitting upright when my friend's 10-year-old daughter says, "Robyn, can I swear, too? Just don't tell my mom." I said, "Oh, was I swearing? Whoops. Let's just scream instead."

Car Show: After I had already blogged (of course), hubby says we shouldn't make a big deal over getting a "new" vehicle. I had to laugh when, just a few hours later when we were giving his parents a ride to the races, Jim is pointing out various features to his dad. "Look what this button does! Check out this!'" It was cute.

Training Camp: Guess who reports to training camp today? Oh, I guess besides that Favre guy. Carter starts football practice tonight. To prepare, Daddy helped him get his mouth guard set and ran him through some drills yesterday. This week is only conditioning, but after tonight's practice in the nearly 90-degree heat, I don't think we'll say it's "only conditioning." I don't know who's more nervous -- me or Carter. Will report tonight or tomorrow on how that goes!

Storm Troopers

We've come to realize our parents and children have busier social lives than we do.

I've been randomly calling my parents during the past week and didn't get a hold of them until today. When my dad did answer the phone, he said, "Yes, we're still here." I thought he was referring to the fact that they hadn't been around. I thought maybe some of my siblings had scolded them for leaving town on some wild casino junket without letting someone know. But he was actually referring to the fact they survived a wicked storm that just passed through.

They each were on a phone, telling me how dark it got, how there was a calm before the storm, then "really big" lightning. Living 200 miles away, I am often oblivious to weather patterns passing through their area of the state. Quite often, though, the system travels southeast and we get a taste of the same thing -- just a bit later.

Early this afternoon, aware storms were coming, Mom and Dad kept an eye on the TV. They said they freaked out when the weather alert specifically listed the storm cell's location as "4 miles northeast of Cushing" -- pretty much exactly where they live.

"So, did you run into the basement?" I asked.

"No," they both said. "We stayed upstairs to watch it."

Perhaps I should revise the opening sentence of this blog entry: We've come to realize our parents and children don't always think their decisions through.

Maybe that's why we appreciate all the more hearing them say, "Yes, we're still here!"

Ahh, that new (well, used) car smell!

After a mostly pleasant 7-year relationship, we had to say a tearful goodbye to the Windstar today. ... And HELLO to a new Honda (well, NEW to us)!

We found a decent deal on a 2006 Honda CRV with low mileage so trekked up to Wausau today to test drive it and eventually take it home. Hubby says this is the first time he's bought two vehicles in a row by the same manufacturer. I don't think us girls pay attention to that sort of thing. I just know I like our Civic and have enjoyed riding in my sister and brother-in-law's CRVs (yes, plural).

It will be good to have two reliable vehicles with decent gas mileage. And this one might even last until Carter gets his temps ... but let's not think about that just yet!

A little bit Corny

I'd venture to say just about every community in America -- from large cities down to unincorporated villages -- holds some sort of annual event or festival to celebrate its heritage, gather neighbors and friends together or, let's face it, just have excuse to party.

In the little village of Scandinavia, just south of Iola, they hold a Corn Roast each year. It's a weekend festival but, ironically, they only have corn on the cob there on Sunday. We decided we couldn't wait for the excitement so we went after work today.

We walked over with some friends who live in Scandy. And Carter was nice enough to go on many, many carnival rides with their 4-year-old son. It was wristband night after all. And that means unlimited fun.

No offense to the Corn people, but I was thinking Jeff Foxworthy would be proud to see the polka band, the plethora of tattoos and -- the highpoint of entertainment for the evening -- celebrity donkey races! (Mind you, not the same caliber of celebrities I saw last weekend.)

I did venture on one ride with the daughter of a friend of mine. She's Carter's age and could not find anyone to go on the Zipper with her. Do you remember the Zipper -- the main machine rotates while each little cage can flip its occupants upside down (we found, many times in a row).

I used to love rides like that so I said "yes" before I had time to get nervous. Or, I know now, time to think. Why do I always forget that getting jerked around in circles and upside down might be bad for my back?! We had fun. We flipped. We screamed. We flipped some more and screamed some more. Now she's got something to brag about and I have a lower back memory as well.

All in good fun. I have to consider I would have been in more pain getting bucked off a donkey! Ahh, Americana at its finest.