Teenage Boys are Strange Creatures

Just when I think I have my teenage boys pegged for life… they turn over a new and refreshing leaf that does this mama’s heart good.  It’s happening in repeating stages right now.  I’m not sure why, but I’m not voicing any of these questions aloud, so as not to disturb the force.

It all started about a month ago.  Holding my coupon envelope while pushing my grocery cart through Safeway, my cell phone rang. It was my 15-year-old son.  He was calling to inquire about the correct procedure for washing his comforter.  Glory be!  I explained that it is exactly like a load of clothes.  BAM!  I could hardly breathe for the clean-laundry-loving juice pumping through my veins.

I arrived home that day to find three large garbage bags stuffed full of clothing in the loft.  Inquiring minds want to know, so I asked a few children if they knew what the bags were for.  Seems it was my same comforter-washing son.  He had gone through his closet AND dresser and removed all the clothing that was too small, stained, holey and nerdy.  Never in his 15 years has he performed this action.

Then I glanced in his room.  Miracle of miracles.  I could see the carpet under his bed!  It is usually hidden by piles of smelly shoes, biking gear, magazines, dirty and/or clean clothing.  It was spotless.  I was speechless! Unbelievable.  I thought it would take a college roommate or his wife to convince him of his slobbish ways.  I’m not sure what happened to bring about this change, and I’m not disturbing the force and asking any time soon.  The amazing thing is that it is still that clean… a month later.  It was like BAM! he grew up.

I was basking in the realization that 50% of my sons were now considered not slobs.  Wow!  I realize 50% is not a passing grade, but I was at 0% just a month ago.

THEN it happened.  I was in Walmart picking out avocados that were ripe to perfection when my cell phone rang.  It was my 13-year-old son inquiring how to launder his comforter.  I about dropped to the tile floor in Wally World in shock and disbelief.  I explained that it is exactly like a load of clothes.  BAM! I could hardly breathe for the clean-laundry-loving juice pumping through my veins.

But, unfortunately, that is as far as son #2 got in the goal of living a tidy, laundered, clean lifestyle.  But he’s two years ahead of his brother in the comforter category. Yet, I have hope.

 

The Alliance

Yes, it sounds like a movie title but in this case it’s not.  The Alliance is a group of age-old homeschooling families who have walked in their own moccasins for more than twenty-five years and have come together to support homeschool state leaders.  They put on a conference, to which my husband and I attended this week, sort of like a family reunion but we were just meeting the family for the first time. I haven’t mentioned here on MSJ that my husband and I are on our state’s homeschool board, partly because I don’t feel worthy to be there half of the time… and the other half of the time I can’t figure out why they let us on after hearing my husband’s stories.  (Yes, he did it again.)

We were invited to a “refresher weekend” in January so the current board could get to know us casually over a buffet lunch and some chat time on a Saturday.  All went well until my dear husband started telling a biking story as we were moving from tortellini to cheesecake.  Rick and I were sitting next to each other in the middle of a rectangular table.  He was speaking to one end and I was speaking to the other.  I kept one ear on his conversation the whole time in case I needed to run interference…. but as the forks went into the cheesecake, realization hit that I was too late to save the day. Mercy sakes alive.

The story went something like this…. we were attending a new church that had Saturday night services.  Rick and our son went on a bike ride Sunday morning in the direction of our old church.  Rick has been going to church on Sunday mornings for 44 years… if he is out bike riding on a weekend morning, in his brain it is Saturday, even if it is Sunday.  So Rick and our son agree to meet at our old church, as our son needed to pump out an extra 10 miles without killing off his father.  So my husband pulls into the packed parking lot of the church and sits in a patio chair out front… in his biker stretchy shorts.  He visits with a few friends and keeps asking what is going on that brought so many people on a “Saturday”.  Many people told him that it was for church.  He didn’t get it.  Finally our son pulled up right as the main service was getting out.  A dear friend finally explained that it was Sunday and approximately 300 people would be leaving the building soon.  Rick minorly freaked out and ran to fill his water bottles, jumped on his bike and they peddled out of there as fast as they could.  The story simply sounds funny at this point.  If only he had stopped there.  He continued telling the homeschooling board members that after he arrived home he discovered holes in the back of his stretchy shorts……(story still sounds mildly okay)…. here was the clincher… he finished by laughing and saying “and we go camou under those shorts.”  Yes, he meant COMMANDO, but I was not about to correct him at that point.  It was an out-of-the-body experience for me.  Why, oh why, did that story seem appropriate at that moment??  I have no idea!

They smiled and said goodbye nicely, like there was never a holey-bike short story ever told…. and they said THEY would call us. (Like ‘don’t call us, we’ll call you.’) I assumed that if God did not want us on the board, this was his way of working that out.  Lo and behold, no call came the first month.  No call came the second month.  THEN a call came!  Unbelievable!  Maybe they forgot the end of the story!  We were invited back for another round of questions and the rest is history. 

Back to the Alliance.  I thoroughly enjoyed the conference, especially being surrounded by like-minded people who are sold-out on homeschooling their kids and/or training the next generation to stand strong.  It also made me realize that there is a whole other level of politeness, respect and love that can cross generations and keep families tight.  It was like coming home… all over again.

(Steve) Austin = Bionic Man

Once again, my motherly buttons have burst and are scattered all over the floor.  My 14-year-old son never ceases to amaze me with his drive, determination and athletic ability.  This past Tuesday Austin and his dad rode around Lake Tahoe…. 72 miles of hills… including a 1200 ft. incline.  Not my idea of a good time, AT ALL.  But hey, if it floats their boats, more power to ’em.  BUT, get this,…… one day of pain and agony was not enough.  Austin wanted to beat the five-hour time with his father slowing him down, so he rode around the lake a second time on Thursday.  His father drove the pace car and handed out granola bars when needed.  Austin shaved more than an hour off his time.  No big surprise!  Three hours and 56 minutes. 

As his mother, I’m so proud of his incredible perseverance…. WAY more drive than my husband or I have….. or ever did have!  We don’t actually know where this drive originated from.  Maybe it goes back to Austin’s 1/4 Native Indian heritage WAY back when they had to run after buffalo or moose or some other wild animal…. for days on end.  But that was for survival, not thrills-a-minute.  I don’t get it.

Here are some more photos for your viewing pleasure.  :o)

There we are.  The proud parents.  See!  There’s no buttons left on our shirts.

My Son is a STUD!

This is a blog about my son Austin.  He is 13-years-old for 10 more days.  He is one amazing child.  Please allow me a few seconds for a proud Mommy moment.  After playing hockey for 8 years, he was told in March that he has had too many concussions for any future contact sports.  We all cried for three days and then went to California for a week to recover.  Aus is very athletic.  He has a clear glass trophy on his shelf that bares proof:  National Champion – Fastest Skater.  We could not be more proud… and then hockey was gone.

Since May, Austin has started riding his road bike…. not just around the neighborhood either….long rides.  Within the last six weeks he started riding  thirty-two miles 2-3 times a week.  Intense biking.  He even got some stretchy shorts!  In June he road 72 miles around Lake Tahoe in one day.  Amazing…. and when he got home he asked if anyone wanted to go swimming in the lake. (I said no.) 

Then Austin found out about triathlons.  They are very popular in the Southwest, where we happen to live.  Might have something to do with our amazing weather MOST of the year.  It was 109 today…. not amazing quite yet.

Austin can swim.  But he has never had swim lessons and didn’t know any strokes or how to breathe while swimming until last week.  And he can run.  But he only started running within the past two weeks for training.  It was 2-3 mile runs 4-5 times.  That’s it.

This morning, my brave and strong son entered his first mini triathlon, the Anthem Sprint Triathlon.  3 mile run.  12 mile ride.  400 meter swim. 

Not only did he finish, but he took first place in his age division (11-14 years old) and beat the second place guy by over nine minutes.   His time was 1:15:39.  Then we heard the results from the next age group (15-18) and we realized he beat the winner of that category by more than four minutes.  Wow.  Imagine how well he’ll do once he learns to swim smoothly!

When asked what his favorite part of the race was, Austin replied with a coy grin, “Passing people on my bike.”  He also told me during the run when he passed other runners and they saw his age on his calf many said in tired dismay, “He’s ONLY 13!”  Made me smile.

We are so proud of Austin and the way he has kept a great attitude through the whole hockey kerfuffle.  (That’s fun to say!) Seriously, he ate, drank, slept and breathed hockey since he was in diapers.  He never played another sport…. until now.  WOW!