Riding in Cars with Boys

I know.  I KNOW!  It's been forever since I wrote a post that wasn't a product review.  But I'm gonna make it up to y'all and get back on the family life blogging horse.  I'll explain later why I haven't been big on writing about everyday stuff.  It's a lnog story and maybe not as fun as the one I'm gonna tell you about now.  So we'll save that one for another day.  In the meantime, just know I am recommitting myself to making I Am Boymom a more upbeat place to hang out.  So on that note...

I did something this summer that taught me a lot about teenage boys.  I took a road trip with my two sons and my nephew.  It was...interesting.  And stinky.  And LOOOOOOONG.

We traveled over 2500 miles in 10 days in a rented Chevy Impala. Which by the way, was an amazing car! Like I would totally take one and drive it everywhere while loudly and proudly singing its praises if Chevy were to see this post and ask me to be their brand ambassador.  Yeah...it's that awesome.  We were 350 miles into the trip before one of the boys pointed out that we had a sun roof (how did we not see that earlier!?).  Then he asked if he could stand up with his head sticking out of it while we were going 85 mph through Nevada.  If I am honest, I actually had to think about it a minute before I said no.  The possibility of having a giant bug splat across my kid's forehead and seeing his subsequent reaction was really, really hard to pass up, but in the end, my mommy sense took over and my child remained belted into his seat.  I have to admit though, we were all momentarily disappointed.

Chevy Stock Photo - forgot to take pics of my rented Impala!

So here's the trip in a nutshell: 

We bought fireworks.  The boys farted.  We got pulled over for speeding.  The boys farted.  We sang Thrift Shop, Can't Hold Us, Radioactive, Cruise, Brave, Locked Out of Heaven, We Own the Night. Love Somebody and lots of other current hits.  And the boys farted.  I went old school and sang ABBA, B52's, Aretha Franklin and ZZ Top.  The boys freaked out and begged me to switch back to their new music.  Then they farted.  We drove, we stopped for gas and food, we took road trip pictures, we hunted for garnets and we talked more than any of us have talked since they were all born.  We talked about Idaho, we talked about Arizona.  The boys talked about all the things they wanted to say, but didn't, to the cop when he gave me the speeding ticket.  We talked about school, we talked about politics, we talked about the civil war and we talked about...farts.  We laughed at a thousand different comedians (praise be to Sirius XM Radio for providing me with some fantastic entertainment options!  Best car radio experience EVER!) while the boys memorized every single G-rated stand-up routine I let them listen to, then repeated them over and over and over again.  We visited friends and went swimming, we visited grandparents and did some target practice and celebrated birthdays and lost new shoes.  And then?  They farted.  OH. MY. HECK. How they farted!  And just when I thought their tanks were on empty and I might have a reprieve from the poot wars?  The shoes started to come off.  FREAK how do feet get that stinky!?  Had we not had the sun roof to keep the air circulation at maximum capacity?  I might have died, people.  Okay.  Maybe not died, but I could have passed out.  Okay, fine.  Maybe not passed out, but I might have gagged once or twice.  And who wants to gag while they are driving?  I mean seriously, how is that even fun?

Looking for Garnets in Ely, Nevada

Stretching the legs in AZ 

Hangin' out with Grandpa John

So am I exaggerating about the smell and the volume of odor that was emitted from three teenage boys?  Maybe just a tiny bit about the volume.  But the smell?  Nope.  No way.  Nuh-uh.  Not even.  It was foul, my friends.  I'm sorry, Budget car guy, if the cloth seats absorbed that stench.  I hope you weren't hit in the face by a wall of stink when you opened the door to start cleaning after the Impala sat in the sun for a few hours.  

Despite all the miles, the flatulence and the toe cheese, we had a great trip.  I got to know my boys and my nephew on a whole different level.  I got to hear them sing at the top of their lungs and laugh hysterically at ridiculous things. I watched them bond over shared interests and ideas.  I listened to their plans for the future as they talked to each other about school and sports and Scout Camp.  And I finally started to see them, all of them, as capable people who have aspirations and hopes and dreams of their own instead of little boys who need to be watched over and cared for every single minute of the day.  It was a pretty revealing look at who my sons and my nephew have become over the last 11-14 years.  And can I just say how happy I am with what I saw? I have been blessed with such good boys.  And it only took me 2500 miles and some singed nose hairs to remember that.

My Son's Bad Day

We've had a week full of snow and both boys loved it at first.  Big Brother has decided that it looks nicer than it actually is, while Little Man is frustrated that we can't take full advantage of the white stuff by driving to cool places where he can slide down hills and run through huge, open fields where no man has sullied the huge, frozen canvas with footprints or tire tracks.  He doesn't get that the car is not geared for driving on the roads that don't see too many plows.  They say they don't get large amount of snow very often around here.  Which is good because my Arizona tires just slide around and spin and make everyone else on the roads around me frustrated while they watch and wait for me to get some traction so I can get OUT OF THEIR WAY!  But Little Man's a kid.  Why would he worry about driving in the snow?  His job is to play in the snow, my job is the driving part.

As much as Little Man loves the snow, he has some learning to do regarding the navigation and effects of the white stuff.  When I picked him up from school on Tuesday, he walked slowly to the car minus his usual vim and vigor, looking pretty close to tears.  When I asked him what was wrong, he muttered something about being cold and tired.  He hardly ever uses those words.  The kid's a walking furnace.  He puts off enough body heat to roast a chicken. And tired?  This is the child who wakes up at 6 a.m. on weekends so he has more time to play.  

When we got home he walked straight into the house, got into his flannel pajamas and crawled under a fleece blanket on the sofa.  And then he looked up with the most pitiful face I have ever seen and said, "Mom, today was the worst day EVER."  

Okay.  Here we go with the drama.  I love my Little Man, but he tends toward the dramatic when his day doesn't go as he planned.  So...I took the bait:  "Why was today the worst day EVER, bud?"

"Because I thought it was going to be fun and it ended up NOT being fun.  Well it was fun at first.  But then all this bad stuff happened."

By now, I'm starting to wonder just what happened?  Did he get hit?  Was someone picking on him?  What? So I ask, "What do you mean bad stuff, Little Man?"  

"Well, at recess we decided to slide down the hill on our stomachs.  But only two of us had slippery coats, so we let other people sit on our backs while we slid them down the hill on our stomachs.  My last slide, my coat got pulled up and snow went in the top of my pants.  It was cold and it made me feel like I had to pee, so I started running to the bathroom." 

I kind of wanted to laugh at this point.  Only a kid would think it fun to let someone sit on you while you slid down a hill in the snow on your stomach.  To me, that just sounds awkward and painful.  But so far I wasn't hearing anything too disasterous.  Although having to pee when it's cold can be pretty worrisome.  Peeling down pants made wet and cold from snow and exposing your already freezing nether regions to cold air and toilet seats is just not fun.  But certainly this was not the whole reason to label this the "worst day EVER."

"Okay, so did something else happen or was that it?"

"Mom.  I'm trying to tell you, if you will quit interrupting me.  It got WAY worse."

"My bad, son.  Please continue."  (Man he's testy after the worst day EVER!)

"Mom.  I slipped running down the hill and did a face plant and hit my nose and forehead on the ground really hard.  Really hard, Mom.  Then I flipped over like a somersault, but I didn't roll, I just flipped and landed on my back.  And it hurt, Mom.  It hurt my back and my face.  When I got up, my nose was bleeding, so I ran to the bathroom."

Well, I can see where that would constitute a rough day or even a bad day, but worst day EVER? I let him keep going to see if there was really any truth to the "worst day" thing. 

"I was trying to hold my nose so the blood wouldn't get everywhere, so I went in the stall to get some toilet paper.  Somehow my gloves fell in the toilet.  In the toilet, Mom!  Gross!  I shoved some toilet paper in my nose so I could try to get my gloves out of the toilet.  

"Ewwww.  How did you get them out of the toilet?"

"With my hands, Mom.  There wasn't anything else to use!  It was so gross and I was so mad.  I put them in the sink and washed them, but the water was really cold and my hands were freezing and plus I was trying to make my nose stop bleeding.  After I was done washing the gloves and cleaning my bloody nose, I remembered I had to pee.  So I went back in the stall and when I went to unzip my pants they were all wet." 

"Oh buddy, that must have looked bad."

"YEAH, MOM!!  IT DID!!  The snow melted and made it look like I peed the front of my pants!" 

"How come you didn't go to the nurse and call me, Dude?  I would have picked you up and brought you home."

"I don't know, Mom.  The bell rang, so I was just trying to get to class so I wouldn't be late and try to fix my coat so kids couldn't see my pants and laugh at me.  And my nose and back hurt from when I fell.  And my feet were wet and cold and I guess I couldn't think.  Worst day ever."

Wow.  I have to agree.  That was a pretty tough day.  Toilet gloves, bloody nose and wet pants.  Not sure it will be his worst day ever, as he has lots more days to live, but as bad days go, this one was is definitely up there.  Welcome to winter weather, son.

  

When Good Trees Go Bad

We knew when we moved here to Idaho that we would experience a different climate.  We have actually looked forward to the cooler weather and actual seasons, not just the hot and less hot seasons of Phoenix.  The leaves and trees and all the colors are absolutely amazing!  I feel like a kid sometimes in that I am awestruck by all the new scenery and sights and smells. 

Credit: Roadsidepictures/Flickr

It's all such a refreshing change of pace from the dry, brown desert we have lived in forever.  FOREVER.  FOR. EVER.

It's funny though, how things that look so cool on the surface can suddenly be not so cool in reality.  Like the changing leaves, for instance.  They are a canvas of colors and patterns that are so enjoyable to look at while we walk along the river banks.  When they started falling one by one from the tree in our front yard, they became individual pieces of art that the boys studied and collected.  Then we had an extremely cold night.  And when we opened the door to go to school the next morning we found this:

A Naked Tree!!  Just days before we were wondering why our neighbors' trees were all but bare, while ours was still full of green, healthy foliage!  Then BAM!  Just like that we have a 4 inch deep carpet of leaves covering our yard and driveway.  Apparently, our neighbors' trees have figured out that if they disrobe a little at a time, their owners can keep up with the raking and the bagging.  Our lovely tree  decided to give us a hearty fall welcome with a full-blown, leaf-filled ticker tape parade!  Which we missed, by the way, because it happened at night!  While we were sleeping!!   Either our tree isn't a very good event planner or it is an accomplished practical joker.  Either way we were shocked at how many leaves the thing had once worn! 

The first thing Little Man wanted to do was make a leaf angel.  I know!  What a great idea, right?  I was hormonal cold and grumpy when he asked and we were running late for school so I told him no.  Why did I say that?  I have no idea.  I just blurted it out.  It wasn't a complicated request.  It's not like he asked if we could snowshoe to Russia or use the leaves for toilet paper (oh, don't think he didn't think about that option, he's totally into Survivorman and Man Vs Wild.  It's only a matter of time until he tries it, believe me!).  It wouldn't have caused any harm.  What was my problem?  Gees, I've got to loosen up! 

Rather than start raking the minute I got home, I decided to ignore the leaves and check my email save the leaves for Little Man so he could have some fun before we disposed of the giant gift from our tree friend.  He and a few friends rolled around in them, jumped in them, made piles our of them and threw them for about an hour before they decided they were done. 

  (Leaf Angels)

The weather man kept saying it was going to snow, so Big Man and I left the leaves where they were for a few days, hoping that maybe we'd get enough snow to cover them and then they could just kind of hibernate and compost over the winter, thereby saving us from clean up duty.  No such luck.  We had no snow.   Just some rain.  Which made the leaves wet.  And heavy.  So the blower didn't work and we had to rake. 

Two hours and eight giant, stuffed bags later we had a clean yard again.  Actually, when I think about it, the tree kind of did us favor.  There are still a lot of trees around town waiting to shed the last of their fall foliage.  Everybody else has been raking intermittently for 3 weeks now and many probably have one more big clean up to do before the snow hits.  We got ours done in one shot.  Maybe this tree ain't so bad after all. 

So yeah...the fall colors and changing leaves are beautiful to look at, but not as much fun to clean up.  Still - I'd rather rake leaves in the crisp fall air that pull weeds in the hot desert sun any day.

PS - I forgot to do the Hexbug Giveaway, tune in Tuesday for the winner!!   

Settling Down in My New Town

So...it dawns on me that since my move, not only am I Boymom, I am also now a Boise Mom! It's been great getting to know the city and while I miss Surprise, Arizona and my wonderful friends and neighbors, I honestly have no desire at this particular moment to EVER return to the desert heat that I have endured for years now.  One of these days I'll have to tell you about our ridiculous trip, but I just don't feel like backtracking and reliving the whole thing at this moment.  But there are some really painful hilarious moments I should probably chronicle for future generations, so I promise, I will do my trip post in the nest few days.  I would rather spend my blog time today telling and showing you guys some of the things I love about our new place of residence.

One of the first places we found to eat when we got here is Hugo's Deli.  Hugo's is yummy and the customer service there is awesome. They were very patient with Little Man, who always takes just under a decade to make any kind of food selection and they made sure he had extra pickles, just like he asked.  The owner was there and he was gracious enough to meet and talk to us when we mentioned that we were new in town.  Who does that anymore?  I have a confession to make here:  I forgot the guy's name.  It's not Hugo.  Or else I would have remembered.  How sad is it that he went out of his way to show us some kindness and I can't even remember his name?  I'm blaming it on menopause the stress of the relocation. So yeah...Hugo's and the guy who owns Hugo's rock.  Great sandwiches, nice employees, clean and inviting store.

Another thing I love about Boise? The amazing gardens and farms here! Everybody grows stuff! My granddad's caretaker, Darlene and her brother own a farm. Darlene has a kick-butt garden and everytime I go visit her and Grandpa she loads me up with cucumbers, squash, tomatoes, greenbeans, corn and watermelon.

My sister's sister-in-law (did you follow that?)  went from being a major corporate star in San Francisco to being a major Mommy star and Master Gardener in Idaho.  She sent home some amazing jalapenos, green chilis and tomatoes, from which we made some kickin' salsa!!  We made a huge batch that filled a huge bowl and this is all that is left 3 days later.

I think my body is in shock from all of the freshly grown, nutrient rich fruits and veggies I have consumed in the last 4 weeks.  Seriously, I have probably eaten more produce in the last 4 weeks than I did in the 8 months previous to my my move.  Consequently, even though I feel a little healthlier and more energetic, my gut doth protest at times.  I'll spare you the gory details.  Suffice it to say that I have definitely shown the menfolk in my family that having someone lock the windows so they can't be unrolled after I "release" ain't so funny when it happens to them!  I can't tell you how many times I have fallen victim to this little prank.  I would like to thank all those who have contributed to my recent bout of retribution.  Revenge is...well it's stinky.  But also pretty hilarious.

When I said everybody grows stuff here?  I mean stuff just grows.  Like you are walking down by the river and you see this:

Yeah.  Blackberry bushes just growing by the river.  I love that I can pick a berry and eat it while I am checking out the river and walking the trails.  The river area is getting pretty picked over though, so today we went to The Berry Ranch to pick our own berries. 

Little Man threw a major fit, the likes of which I have not seen since he was about 2.  I have NO idea what he thought we would be doing, but apparently he envisioned something akin to a prison labor camp.  So we pretended to ignore his meltdown, even though secretly I was  plotting a chore agenda that would make his prison labor camp look like a day at the fair.  He finally pulled it together when we pulled into the dirt lot at The Berry Ranch.   We spent about an hour picking blackberries and raspberries and ate a few along the way.  Of course I forgot my camera, so no pics this time in the fields, but here are the pics of our harvest:

Little Man apologized for his behavior and talked the whole way home about how he wants to have a farm so he can grow stuff too.  He talked and talked and TALKED about it.  I know, Little Man.  That would be the goal.  Because then I wouldn't be paying someone else $3.00/lb for berries that I had to pick myself!  Dang!   I think I could have bought them at the grocery store for half that!  But...we had a wonderful day together.  And we supported local farmers who work hard to grow good food for us.  And that?  Was Priceless. 

Livin' on Boise Time

Things are a little slower paced here in Idaho, which is what I thought I wanted.  Until I tried to get my high speed internet connection set up.  When they told me the earliest day they had was August 30th I started hyperventilating.   The CSR had no sympathy and thanked me for my patience, then hung up.

So this is what I'm reduced to...writing my blogpost from my cellphone because Qwest (now Centurylink) is so busy getting BSU students set up with high speed that I have to wait 10 days for them to get to me! I think there might be a clue in Qwest's new moniker (Centurylink) as to the length of time you might have to wait for service.

ANYWAY...I have so much to write about my recent relocation adventure, but my giant ham thumbs make writing a lengthy blogpost on a tiny cellphone keyboard a very exasperating experience. Not to worry though, I remember every single detail and will make sure to include each and every thought and feeling about my move to Idaho so you don't feel like you missed out. Because I know all of my readers are waiting with bated breath to hear about the journey. I SAID, I know you are all extremely excited to hear about my trip, right? **Crickets**

The Idaho Trip - Part 2

So where did we leave off on the Idaho thing? Oh yeah! Grandpa and Darlene (still waiting for a pic of Darlene form SOMEONE!). Cool elderly people.

Really there is nothing else to talk about that is really exciting, because we didn't do anything really exciting in Idaho. Okay...unless you call stealing some plums off a wayward tree exciting. Yeah...we did. The Big Plum Caper. Before you question my integrity, let me 'splain. First, I didn't take them, my mom did (how's that for shifting accountability?!). Second, the tree was so overgrown with plums that it had broken and the branch we snagged the plums from was hanging over the guys fence into the street. Kind of. It was very, very close to the street. If you kind of pulled over to the edge of the street, onto the gravel. Third...there were about 3000 plums on that tree going to waste because no one, and I mean NO ONE, was tending to the tree or the plums! And you know what? They were de.li.cious.

And I guess you could call our trip to the Golden Corral (mmmm...love their rolls!) somewhat exciting. Actually not so much exciting as educational, because we had a rockin' tour guide who drove us through Nampa to get to the restaurant. His name is Chad. He's Darlene's grandson. He's 26. He's a good kid who works with Fish and Game and knows ALOT about farming and nature and stuff. I asked him tons of questions, mostly because I didn't want him to be bored driving around a van full of ladies that were 20-40 years older than him. I figured if I kept him talking he wouldn't think about how he could bail and leave us stranded on some backroad in rural Nampa. But Chad would never do that. Like I said...he's a really nice guy. Chad's the one who told me about silage (google it)and farming and how they grow seed corn. To grow hyrbrid seed corn, only one row out of five is allowed to keep its tassels. That one row, called the bull row, provides pollen to the heifer rows to produce the hybrid seed. I found it all fascinating. Maybe you don't, so I'll move on. But I'm all about layin' down some knowledge now and again, when I can. So now you have a topic of conversation next time there's a lull..."Hey, do you know how seed corn is grown?" People will be amazed that you know about seed corn. Unless you're in Idaho. Or Iowa. Or Nebraska. So only talk seed corn in the big city, at like an art exhibit. Yeah - your welcome.

Chad and his Entourage

So...back to Idaho. It was not exciting because we did not want exciting. We wanted relaxed. Which is exactly what we did. We went there to see Grandpa. We went to visit him everyday. We looked at pictures and listended to stories about him and his life.

And we puttered around Darlene's garden and we went to Walmart a few times. I know, sounds extremely boring. But it was really just what the doctor ordered. It was sooooo nice to just slow down and enjoy what was around me.

Me and Uncle Max puttering in Darlene's Garden

This particular part of Idaho is farming country, so almost everywhere we went there were farms and the most spectacular old barns, of which I got no pictures. Why? Because my camera sucks. I think I've said that before and NO I have not remedied the situation yet because there is no disposable income for a camera. There is no disposable income for anything!

So I borrowed this picture from Jane Loughney @ travel.webshots.com:



Lots and lots of barns like thise everywhere. Beautiful and sad to see them disappearing.

So back to the farms and such. Everywhere we went someone was growing something! Corn fields were present in abundance, as were melons, tomatoes, squash, sugar beets, pumkins, grapes and onions. It seems like everyone there has a garden as part of their landscaping. They just all grow stuff! Then when we listened to them talk? It was like a live lesson in commodities and futures trading! "So and so down the street bought this field of corn and he's gonna harvest it next week, then sell the silage to the dairy over at Emmett. Then we got 3 contracts of feed corn that we gotta get in and get shipped over to so and so, they're gonna process it sell it to the feedlots in Kansas." It was amazing to see the wheeling and dealing going on and that was just with the corn!

I know...it sounds RIDONKULOUS that I am this enthralled with farming and produce. I just think it's cool. I guess maybe I really am a small town girl at heart. I would be absolutely at peace in a town where there is a Walmart or a Super Target and nothing but acres and acres of farms and fruit trees. As long as I have an internet connection. Hey...a girl's gotta stay connected, right?

A Few Days in Idaho - Part 1

I took a quick trip to Idaho last week to see my step-grandfather, who just turned 93 years old. He is an amazing man. He fought in WWII and was among the first troops to land on Omaha Beach. The stories he tells about that day are heartbreaking. But he survived uninjured and went to work for the VA when he got home. He spent 28 years there. He wanted to take us to see where he used to work, so we drove up to his old office, which is in a beautiful old brick building at the edge of a huge, green park. He decided to go in and talk to the people who work there now. We were a little unsure about how he would be received. He went in alone and came out 5 minutes later. When he walked out the door and headed twoard the van, a guy stuck his head out at us and waved. He was shaking his head and laughing. Which made us wonder what my gandpa said to them. We asked him how the office looked. "Oh hell, that place is a damn mess." he said. That was it. End of the conversation.

I have to say, that is about as negative a comment as you will ever hear come out of his mouth. He's not a negative guy. Which is good for us. We tend to see the glass half empty. He's been a good example and he's a very uplifting person to be around. He is pretty much a happy guy, with good things to say about his life, his family and his country. He had a lot of reasons to be negative if he had wanted to be. He grew up very poor, had to quit school to take care of his family and lived through very hard times during the depression and then the war. But he chose to look at the good and focus on what was right in his life and he and my grandmother had a grand retirement and enjoyed life to the fullest. She was his 2nd wife. They met at the VA. She was a nurse, he was in supplies. It was a great love story and it's hard for him that she's gone. She took good care of him.

He lives with his sister-in-law now, who also takes good care of him. She is also an amazing woman. She is 73. She gets up every morning at 5:30 to cook breakfast for her son and sometimes her grandson. Yeah, you read right. She cooks them breakfast before they go to work. Like eggs and bacon. Or homemade biscuits with sausage gravy. I gripe about making toast some mornings! Then she goes outside to work in her garden. Where she grows these:

and these

and these, among other things.

Then she picks them and cans them.

After she's done in the garden she goes back in to cook breakfast for my grandpa. About 9:00 a.m. Then sometimes she goes back out to the garden, or she finishes her canning or cleans house or runs errands. After lunch she starts dinner for her son and maybe her grandson and my grandpa and whoever else stops by. This 73 year old woman does more in one day than I do in a week! I asked her how she does it all. Know what she said? "You just do it! I just get out of bed and get to it. I don't think about why. I just do it. I've worked hard all my life and don't know any different." Know what she used to do? She used to work at the family dairy farm, getting up at 2 a.m. to milk cows. She also worked at the local sugar plant bagging and packing brown sugar. In between all that she managed to decorate cakes for people's weddings. While raising kids. oh yeah! She also took care of her brother with Down's Syndrome until he passed away at age 57!! She says she's slowed down since her husband and brother passed and she retired. Really?

After leaving Idaho, which by the way was nice and cool and green and I loved every minute of it, I came home with a greater resolve to be happier, work harder, give more and to cook better meals. It lasted about 1 day. I caught a cold on the plane, my little guy keeps messing with a fever that won't make up its mind about whether to stay or go away and the homework and chores didn't seem to get done while I was gone. Is it written somewhere that husbands lose their brains when wives go out of town? Mine had to call me because he couldn't find the butter. I should have known that anything beyond that, like homework and chores, would just be too hard.

Despite all the catch up and feeling cruddy? I resolve to try to stay more positive and follow the example of two people who are 30-50 years older than me. I want to work harder, to appreciate what I have and to see the things that are right in my life instead of focusing on all the things that I think are wrong. Excuse free living? Is HARD, people!

Oh yeah...remind me to tell you about getting the tomatoes from Darlene's garden home on the plane. Funny story.