I have never done a Wordless Wednesday, mostly because I don't actually know how to be wordless, and a teeny bit because I fear that perhaps I am supposed to sign up somewhere in order to do this and if I don't the blogging police will be pounding on my... um, firewall.  But mostly the first reason.

Still, since I have started uploading more of my pics to Photobucket, a Wordless Wednesday post seems like a great way to make a nice post when I don't actually have time to write.

Unless, of course, I go to Photobucket and find that I have not yet uploaded the pic I wanted to post.  That being the case, I'll post these.  Like the one I had planned to post, these were taken LAST summer and are hereby presented in honor of The Boy Who Is Soon To Turn Teenager.  Although in these pics, he was not yet twelve and his hair is short.  Relatively speaking.

You KNEW it wasn't actually going to be wordless, didn't you?

And a couple more...

Ahhh... two-and-a-half lovely days of R & R.  It was nice while it lasted.  Now we are back to the busyness and conflicts of everyday life.

An hour before we left town for our mini-vacation, we found out that Spaz' football practice schedule had been moved up a week.  It starts tomorrow.  Yes, that's a very last-minute change, one that our association fought but had no control over.  And it made a big problem for us.  Now that we are back in town, we have been scrambling to get it all figured out.

Here's how our evening schedule this week was supposed to go:

Monday night, Spaz' youth leaders over for dinner.  Tuesday night, Spaz & Huz on a long-anticipated date to the Off-Road Derby at our local fairgrounds.  Wednesday night, Spaz & his cousin to Grandma's for an overnighter.  Thursday night, friends over for hamburgs & card games.  And Friday afternoon thru Saturday morning, Spaz' 13th birthday party.

Here's how it has to go instead:

Monday night, football practice for Spaz.  Tuesday night, football practice for Spaz.  Wednesday night, Spaz & Huz to the Derby (fortunately there is a 2nd night, but unfortunately, my friend's son will not be racing on this night).  Thursday night, football practice for Spaz and friends over for the rest of us.  And Friday night, football practice for Spaz.

Which leaves the youth leaders and the cousin in the lurch, not to mention... the birthday party.

Yes, he could skip football practice Friday night, with his coach's blessing, since the party was already planned.  But two of his party guests are on his football team and it is the first night of "full pads and hitting" and we really don't want to make them have to miss practice as well.

And yes I know, that is what happens when kids get involved in sports and other such things; they take over life for a time.  But football has been really really good for Spaz, and we love the Christian organization for which he plays.  The schedule change was not their decision; it was the decision of the league which our organization has joined.  And Spaz is not very happy about it.

My kids get a "friends party" every three years, and this is the year for Spaz.  So it isn't just any birthday party; it's the "special" party.  Fortunately, his original guest list of 14 (Spaz is a very sociable kid) was whittled down to 6-8 at parental request, and then voluntarily whittled to five, and of those five, three were able to come.  So it is not a big party and we did not have 8 phone calls to make, and that is a blessing.  We're waiting on one more callback, and I think we will be able to work out an alternative day.  But it is still a pain.

Isn't this just too American: I sign my kids up for activities and plan parties and then complain about the busyness and the schedule conflicts.  All the while knowing that there are people out there with real crises.

And speaking of signing kids up for activities...  With all this frustration and dilemma coming right on the heels of vacation, Spaz now wants to back out of auditions for our local homeschool theatre group's Jungle Book musical.  I had finally talked him and Fuzz into trying out (they are great at drama but need some parental push to actually do it) and they are all registered for tomorrow morning's auditions.  Now Spaz says he doesn't feel ready and can't get ready and can't get excited about it, and I can understand.  But I hate to see him back out now, because I think that he would love doing it if he is selected-- and rehearsal doesn't even interfere with football practice; imagine that.  (Although doing both will make for a very busy boy this fall.  Fortunately, he has a nice Mom who will cut back a bit on the non-essential schoolwork if he makes it into the musical.)

Anyway, tomorrow is a new day and hopefully with some sleep, he'll feel differently.

Well, that's enough of my rambling for now.  We'll see what tomorrow brings.  Hopefully, renewed enthusiasm for Jungle Book auditions as well as a solution to the birthday party dilemma.

Where I am:  At the school table in the basement, because that's where my laptop is parked at the moment.  I did a little school planning a little eBay curriculum hunting down here today.  I have never bid on curriculum on eBay before; it's rather exciting.

Who is with me:  Two of my children are down here playing the piano.  Two different songs on two different pianos.  Loudly, at the same time, right next to each other.  Right next to me.  At least they play well.

(Yes, we have two pianos.  One is our trusty digital that we've had for 11 years; the other is the acoustic that Cheez begged us for several years to get.  I figure having two pianos sorta makes up for having two TVs.)

What I am watching:  Beach volleyball, sort of, because that's what's on.

Why I am not watching it upstairs:  Because Fuzz is watching "Lyle the Kindly Viking".  Correction: was.  Apparently, the video has just ended.

Why we haven't picked up our current family read-aloud in nearly a week:  Because Huz & the kids were out of town, and Then There Were The Olympics.

What has changed in the ten minutes since I began this post:  Cheez and Spaz have stopped playing the pianos and wandered upstairs, while Fuzz has come down here and is loudly playing around with the foosball table.  And beach volleyball has been replaced by (what else) a Michael Phelps semi-final.

What I just figured out:  It is breast-stroke that looks so funny, not butterfly.  Although the latter is a bit odd-looking as well.

Why I am writing all this:  Because I wouldn't possibly be able to concentrate on writing anything of substance.  Would you?

How on earth I was able to do school planning this afternoon:  Everyone was gone for a couple hours.

I updated the previous post with another idea.  I added a few more pics and many more words.  Many many many...  So humor me and go give another opinion.

So as I was taking the latest pics, I had a thought and a revelation.  OK, I had more than one thought, but only one was actually interesting.  It came as I was moving toys out of the way so I could spread the curtains out, and it went something like this:

One would think that when one's youngest son is nearly thirteen years old, one would have long ago ceased to be stepping on these...

One would think.

That wooden thing in the pics, by the way, is a big ramp that Huz built when Biz was 11 months old.  It was originally made for the wooden cars that Huz had also made for Biz, but within a couple years, it had turned into a Hotwheels ramp.  I don't think we'd ever have dreamed that it'd still be in use twenty years later.

OK, back to the present.  The Revelation, which was totally irrelevant to The Thought, came a few minutes later and went something like this:

Oh!  This explains how the curtains got so messed up while I was away last night.

Someone's been stalking the butterflies and dragonflies and frogs.  Of course, every time I tried to get a picture of her stalking or pouncing, she'd stop doing it.  I kid you not, she'd see me with the camera and either walk away or pose herself pretty and look at me.

It's those terrible two's.

And as long as I'm taking pictures of Things That Are Taking Over The Basement Floor, here's Cheez' Project In Progress.  Or Lack Thereof, as the case may be.

She's sewing together rugs to make, um, bigger rugs.  One for her floor, and one to serve as a closet curtain, because we yanked her bi-folds out, too.  Personally, I think a curtain made of rugs is going to be awfully heavy and impractical.  But what do I know?

Here's something I know:  My curtain project is more important than hers.  Because it's my blog.  So now that you have finished reading the Post That Didn't Say Anything But Had a Cute Picture of a Cat, go back to the last one, scroll down to the Update, read, click on "comment", and say something.

And hurry.  I need to get those curtains done.  Because soon I will have to turn this Project And Hotwheels Room back into a Schoolroom.

My first baby is twenty-one today!

We've gone from "It's a boy it's a boy it's a boy!" to "Wow!  It's a man!"

"The torture I have to go through (posing for pictures) is almost not worth the presents," he says.

But it's probably worth the hugs.

And what's a birthday without squirting air and spit in your sister's face?

I am WAY too young to have a twenty-one-year-old.  Way.

Nevertheless...

HAPPY BIRTHDAY, JARED!!!

...of squeezy rats.  Too bad, so sad.  The kids were not too heartbroken.  The 17-y/o and the 12-y/o chose plastic dinosaurs that roar when a button on the belly is pushed, while the 9-y/o came home with a... um, for lack of a better decsription, yellow-smiley-face-topped thingie which makes squeaky noises when shaken quickly in a back-and-forth motion.

You'll notice that, unlike squeezy rats, these toys make noise.  However, also unlike squeezy rats, they do not serve as dog- and cat-hair magnets.  More importantly, they do not, upon being squeezed just a little too hard a few too many times, explode and gush a Strange Liquid Which Defies Description all over the good furniture.  So I'm good with that.  Noise is OK.  Noise I am used to.  Noise I can tolerate.  Squeezy-rat-liquid on my leather chair I can not.

So many thanks to the dentist, until I get his bill.

I'm also thankful for one of those things I tend to take for granted: good great teeth for me and mine.  The dentist pointed this out once again.  We all have "great arches", only one kid has ever had a cavity, and none of us have ever needed orthodontic work.  Considering that we have no insurance to speak of, that is really something for which to be grateful.  This dentist pointed out years ago that Huz has great gums and I have great teeth, and we hoped & prayed that the kids would get both.  Apparently, they have.  And so far, the older kids and I have made it through without needing any wisdom teeth pulled, either.  Let's hope the same goes for the youngers when they get there.

"Huz has great gums".  That strikes me as a funny thing to say.  File it under Compliments Only a Dentist Would Give.

Oh, and don't even think about commenting on how I must be a great and diligent mom who makes sure her kids faithfully take utmost care of their dental appendages.  Because we're not going to talk about our flossing record around here.  Or the fact that Spaz admitted this morning that he hasn't been able to find his toothpaste since we returned from vacation.  Not that he used it much on vacation, either.  I really thought he & Fuzz were old enough to keep up on their teeth-brushing without constant reminders from me, but apparently not so.  I told the hygeinists to chew him and Fuzz out about not brushing their teeth.  Theoretically, it would be one less thing I  would have to chew them out for, except that I already have.  In the bathroom this morning, and in the car, and in the car again...

OK, so I'm not a great parent, but at least I passed on Great Teeth Genes.  And I will take credit for the fact that even if they don't brush their teeth, at least there is not a lot of sugar sitting on them.  I suppose that and the genes are our saving grace. 

Are you bored yet?  Squeezy rats were a lot more interesting.

And why is it that I do not take the time to post about Important Things like the kids' camp experiences and our family reunion, yet I can make two posts about going to the dentist?  I already know the answer to that.  The Important Things generally involve much detail and analysis and require writing and editing skills to get them from lengthy head-blogs to readable posts.  I have a hard time justifying spending the required hours at the computer doing this when there are so many other things to be done.  Squeezy-rat-and-dentist-visit-type posts, on the other hand, are stream-of-thought-ish and relatively unpremeditated and can be happily pounded out "in a few minutes" (read: half an hour), while I am supposed to be doing something else.

Speaking of which, I have photos to print and a birthday dessert to make.  Squeezy drat.  Time for me to go.

High Birthday Season is upon us: five birthdays in ten weeks.  (Then we get an 8-week break before the final birthday.)  Huz and I have had ours, with little fanfare; I am now three years past 40, while he is three years short of 50.  I find that wording far more amusing than he does.

The kids' birthdays, which commence on Tuesday and continue into August, September, and November, may require a bit more fanfare.  You're familiar with the concept of "milestone birthdays", right?  How's this for milestone birthdays?

10.  13.  18.  21.  (Though not in that order.)

My Baby is turning Double-Digits.  The other Little One is turning Teenager.  Kid Number Two hits the Age of Majority.  And the Eldest becomes a Full-Fledged Adult.  All within a span of 3-1/2 months.

As Lucy's husband would say, I-yi-yi-yi-yi.  Although I've never been quite certain how to spell that.

****************************************************************

In totally unrelated news, we have our yearly dentist appointments tomorrow.  My kids LOVE going to the dentist.  No, really; they do.

"Are we going to the same dentist we always do?" asks Spaz eagerly.  "The one with Mega-Blocks in the waiting room?"

Adds Cheez, "They'd better still have squeezy rats in the prize box."

Have I mentioned that the children quoted above are 12 and 17?  Going on six?

I'm glad they're not growing up too fast.