Don't Worry America...

The fate of the world rests of the shoulders of future generations. 

On second thought...

Civil Disobedience

I have entered some uncharted waters.  As a kid, I believe (I am sure that there are people out there in comment-land who will correct me if I am wrong) I was pretty much a straight arrow kid.  I followed rules.  I did what was expected.  I was respectful to my teachers. (Note: I did not say "sister," I said teachers.)

Along comes Mitch.  Type A.  Rule follower.  Teacher's pet.

Then comes Matty.  Oh, boy.  This is a whole different ball game. 

Now, he is not a hanging-from-the-ceiling-fan, he-just-set-the-cat-on-fire, has-anyone-seen-the-neighbor's-car-kind of naughty.  He practices a different art form.  That of civil disobedience.  Here he is with his inspiration.

What do you think?  Can you see the resemblance? Matty is not opposed to fasting.  He is peaceful, relatively quiet and kind, but does not listen to anyone.  Ever.

The other day at school, he was swinging his lunch bag around.  Here is a transcript of what followed:

Teacher:  "Matty, please stop swinging your lunch bag around.  You are going to knock something over."

Matty:  "No."

Teacher:  "Matty, please stop..."

At this moment, he hits his yogurt, sending it flying arcoss the room, leaving a trail of dairy evidence for three feet.

Teacher:  "Matty, I TOLD you to stop swining your lunch bag!"

Matty:  "Oh, I didn't hear you."

Teacher:  "What?  Yes you did!  You told me 'no'."

Matty:  "Oh."

Teacher:  "Go to time out."

Matty (skipping over):  "Ok!"

Oh vey.  Never really upset.  Not openly disruptive.  Just doesn't listen to anything that anyone asks him to do. 

This is new territory for me.  I do not know what to do with him.  So far, he has written apology notes to teachers.  I have made him scrub the floor to clean up the yogurt.  He has lost privileges.  Been to time out.  You name it, we have tried it.  He just smiles and politely disagrees with everything we say!

What do you think?  Just being 3? Just exerting his new-found independence?  Or heading for a life of crime?

Before you place your vote, please know that he tried very, very hard to steal money out of the offeratory basket at church two days ago.  Mike asked me to hold it for a minute while he fished in his wallet to give money to Haiti, and Matty immediately stuck his hand in, rummaged around, and latched on to a quarter that I had to wrench free from his little money-grubbing fingers.  From Haiti, people.  Haiti!  Is there any hope for the child?

The Good, The Bad, and The Ugly...South Carolina Edition

The Good:

It was 67 degrees with not a cloud in the sky yesterday.  The sun was shining.  The birds were singing, and Matty and I had a picnic after school at the park and played and played.


The Bad:

And The Ugly:

Our nieghbor boy has a dead 'possum in a bucket next door.  He killed it by hitting it on the head with a two by four two weeks ago after it hissed at him in his backyard.  He is keeping it because he wants to skin it.  At the present time, there are no less than 20 vultures perched in trees and circling my house.

There you have it.  Cack-a-lackee style.

Disney!

Greetings from Disney World!  Right before Christmas, we (and 80 million other people) took advantage of some great military deals and headed to the Happiest Place on Earth.  See!  They have a castle!

And views like this...in the middle of December!

And they let kids drive cars!

And they have Viking costumes for people who have been drinking at Epcot late into the evening and happen to wander into Norway.

And of course they have rides.  Mitch, turns out, is a roller coaster freak.  You name it, he rode it and loved it.  The faster, the higher, the better.  Yeti's?  No problem.  Careening through total darkness?  Bring it on.  Run away train car?  Yes, please.  It was definitely a thrill to see him so very excited about impending doom.  Perhaps another adrenaline junkie in the family?  (I am referring to myself, of course.  Nothing gets the blood pumping like teaching a group of 14 four-year-olds or heading to Wal-mart with a really, really long list.  Driving a Honda Accord is totally living on the edge as well!  Oh, and I guess you could say Mike is a bit of a thrill seeker, too).

Matty found joy in other venues.  Please reference the telehphone booth.  Or is that a defibrilator?

He also ate more food at Disney World during the course of 6 days than he usually does in a month.  Evil genius.  Now all we have to do is take him to Disney everytime we want him to eat a good meal.  He rode most rides, and seemed to enjoy many of them.  He claims that his favorite was Big Thunder Mountain Railroad, but he certainly experienced some trepidation.  He is still, to this day, talking about the rocks moving in the tunnel, and how we barely made it out in time!

Thankfully, what we did not do very often, was this....

Our kids were not ones to need to (or even want to) meet the characters.  They just wanted to go on rides.  Here we are with Santa Goofy who we accidentally bumped into while having dinner at the Animal Kingdom.  There.  That's it for the character aspect.  No autographs.  No waiting in line to pantomime with Mickey Mouse.  Just one wayward Goofy that Matty wanted nothing to do with, and Mitch was neutral at best, and we were done.

Now, off to plunder some dinner for my Viking hubby.

Winter Wonderland

While in Michigan over the holidays, the boys got to experience some snow.  As a baby, this is how Mitch felt about the white stuff...

Well, he's come a long, long way.  Here he is after three plus years of living...in the South.  What?  Anyway, here is his new attitude toward snow.

Much improved, as you can see.  Little brother has always been on board, despite the fact that his 0.00% body fat does not insulate him at all and his teeth are chattering in seconds if the temperature is anywhere below 45 degrees.

While in Michigan, Grandma Julie had a brillant idea...we took the boys skiing for the first time! We mittened, we zipped, we double pantsed, we Velcroed, and finally pieced together some semblance of ski clothing for them.  We rented them teeny, tiny little skiis, hopped on the Wonder Carpets, and started yelling things like, "Pizza!  Now, French Fries!  Now, Pizza, Mitch.  Pizza!  PIZZA!"  Here are some action shots...

(Mitch and Grandma Julie)

All in all, it was a great success.  Our boys surprised us with their willingness to try new things and their perseverance.  We could not get speed demon Mitch off the slopes. 

 Matty found ways to amuse himself while we were waiting in the lodge for Mitch and Mike at the end of the day.  He comandeered the camera and started taking pictures willy nilly.  This was his favorite.

                                                     

We also fit in some more wintry fun.

Fun, Matty.  I said fun.

(ice skating)

(sorry, couldn't resist.  This just cracks me up.  Get your lighters out!  Encore!)

You Need to Go Back to Where You Came From...

Pictured below are two people who had hoped that the following story would never see the light of day, but that is the beauty of blogging.  I get to decide what I want to write about, and until some other members of my family develop rival blogs and start posting humiliating stories about yours truly, I hold the monopoly on embarrasing people I love.  So here we go...

While at Epcot, my parents decided to take a ride on Mission:  Space.  If you have ever been on it, you know that there are two versions of the ride...the green (less intense) mission, as well as the orange (vomit comet) version.  Sidenote:  The ride is narrated by Gary Sinise, and two years ago, Mike talked me into going on the more intense version.  To this day, I can not listen to an "Army Strong" commercial or see Lieutenant Dan without being overcome by nausea.  But, I digress...

My parents enter the ride area, and are handed green cards, as they will be going on the more mild version (though it is still fairly robust!).  The cards are laminated placards that provide detailed information about the attraction.  My parents are, at this point, so busy reading their green cards detailing their mission ( in which they train and embark upon and eventually end up on Mars) that they do not notice that they have left the group and have crossed behind a barricade.  They then walk up a ramp and arrive at a locked door with a panel of buttons next to it.

The following is a transcript of the conversation that ensued, based upon extensive interviews with the persons involved:

Sandy (trying to open locked door):  It's locked John.  I'll try this. (starts pushing random buttons on panel next to door).

John:  Is this where we are supposed to be?

Sandy:  Yeah, Rachel said that it was not crowded yet.  I think this is part of our training.  We need to get through  this door.

John:  Is it working? 

Sandy:  No, John.  Try our green cards.

John (feverishly swiping green card):  Nope.  Nothing.

Sandy:  Try our room key.

John tries room key.  Sandy still pushing buttons.  Suddenly, a voice from above.

Voice:  Can I help you?  What are you doing?  Where are you trying to go?

Sandy:  Um, we're trying to go to Mars.

Voice:  Well, you need to go back to where you came from. 

(Me, thinking aloud):  Do you mean, like, Earth?

Voice:  Oh, wait a minute.  Are you the people from Hewlett Packard?

(Me, thinking again):  Seriously, Disney Control Room Employee.  They are swiping room keys and wearing pin lanyards.  Do they LOOK like they are there to fix the computers? 

You know in some break room at Epcot somewhere, these two have made the Bloopers reel of the surveillance cameras.  Way to go, space travellers!  Mission:  Failed.