Warm toes, cold. . .trees?

No doubt about it, "tween" boys (so named because they're be-tween being children and teenagers) are special. . . just some are more special than others.

Take Boy #1, for instance. He's quickly approaching that double-digit birthday and couldn't be more thrilled. But there are still some endearingly little-boy characteristics that warm this mama's heart. For instance:

Can you read what it says? "Secret pocket" -- because having stuff you need to hide doesn't necessarily mean you can remember where you stashed it. I got a good, long chuckle that day I found it.





And then there's his fashion sense. The Husband and I told the boys we'd paint their rooms this summer, so long as they agreed to help. Even let them choose their own colors. Well, after I talked Boy #2 out of the bright red stripes he really, really wanted. (We do a good job painting but amateur home improvement talent only goes so far.)

So Boy #1 moved into the guest room while we began rehabbing his abode. In the early evenings, it's a bit chilly in there, so this is what he's been wearing to bed:

 Here he is, just down for breakfast one morning. Nothing too unusual, right? Ah, but look closer:

 

There it is, the piece de resistance: fuzzy, knee-high soccer socks, to keep your toes toasty, no matter what temperature the room is. He calls this his "suwinter collection." You gotta appreciate his sense of humor.

And, while we've been busy upgrading inside the house, forces of nature have been busy outside. We lost a big hunk of a very tall tree in the front yard; but were exceedingly grateful that no one was hurt and no property damaged when it fell. Some good friends lent their manpower and equipment to help the boys chop it down and haul it away.

The aftermath

Section of tree that fell

I'll have photos of the room makeover before too long (we're not quite done yet). But here's your tease: The color he chose? Gecko green. Yeah. . .let that sink in.

-ma'am

I never learn

With apologies to Robert Fulghum, I did not, apparently, learn all I needed to know in kindergarten. Or even in grad school. Thankfully, though, my children are learning the stuff I somehow missed. . .and they're kind enough to share with me.

Recently, Boy #2 was watching me play Words with Friends (a Scrabble-like game played on Facebook with friends anywhere in the world). I had a collection of uninspiring letters, so was gazing at the screen longer than usual. Then a voice piped up behind me: "Oviparous, Mom."

Sorry, Honey, but you have to use real words in this game.

"Look, right there: Oviparous."

I appreciate your help, but oviparous isn't a real word. I have to use real words.

"Oviparous is a real word! You can use it in a sentence!"

He obviously wasn't dropping it -- and I have this horrible habit of wanting to be right. Always. -- so I did the next sensible thing: "We'll go to Google and I'll show you that I'm right."

Cue the music, because you know what happened, dontcha? Not only is oviparous a word, it's a good word; it's an adjective referring to animals that lay eggs. Birds are oviparous; so are snakes.

Score 1 for modern kindergarten, 0 for Mommy.

I should have remembered not to wrangle with the kindergartener, though. When Boy #1 was that age, I distinctly remember him hopping off the bus one day and telling me all about onomatopoeia; just as distinctly, I remember thinking how I hadn't learned that word until I was in high school. And if you're in the dark about onomatopoeia, it means words that describe sounds -- generally animal noises like hiss, oink, meow.

So "o" words and kindergarten beats Mom most every time.

My saving grace is that Boy #2 is truly fun to be with. His brother had a birthday party to attend on Mother's Day (and no, I don't know what that family was thinking when they planned it, nor what we were thinking when we agreed he could go). It took us most of the day to realize that, because of the party, there was no way The Husband and kids could make me dinner that night. It had been a really long week, which is my only excuse for why we were so dull-minded about that.

So Boy #2 pipes up that he'll take me to dinner. After some finnagling, we settled on the Mexican place within walking distance of our house; they make lovely margaritas, which makes it essential that they're within walking distance.We played an hour or so of Wii, then headed out for dinner. On the way home, my son suggested we skip down the hill. . .and we did. It was great fun -- honest.

As we entered our neighborhood, I said, "You, my dear, are a fun date!" He looked up at me, pride shining in his big blue/gray/green eyes, and said, "Mom, you are one smart cookie!"

And he's modest to boot.

-ma'am

Dads 'n cows

I miss the cows.



Not these cows, exactly, but cows like them. See, The Husband and I recently spent an idyllic weekend at the WinShape Retreat Centre in Mount Berry, Ga.

WinShape is the foundation started by S. Truett Cathy (the Chick-Fil-A guy) to "make a difference in the world." They do that through various programs aimed at children, married couples and families, all "set in the foothills of the Appalachian Mountains, surrounded by a rolling wonderland of forests, meadows and streams that provide the perfect backdrop to encourage both growth and transformation."

Indeed.

We were at WinShape as guests of All Pro Dad (APD), an organization that helps fathers connect with their kids, becoming better fathers in the process. The Husband has been "team captain" of the APD chapter at our elementary school for a couple years now; APD brought in captains from across the country to meet each other, share ideas and see how we might grow the organization.

In explanation, it sounds a little esoteric, but it was one of the most fun weekends we've had in a long time. It was almost like the APD folks searched their database, decided who would be BFFs and then summoned us all to the Georgia mountains for a few days. Many of us remarked that we didn't seem like strangers at all, but old friends. Shared values will do that.

Part of the wonder of the WinShape Retreat amenities -- This place is the Disneyworld of non-Disney resorts! -- are its facilities. Because the group of buildings once served as the dairy for Berry College (a gorgeous little liberal arts school set on 26,000 acres of nature preserve), visitors sleep, eat and meet in former animal stalls, milking barns and related spaces. They've skillfully decorated the buildings and rooms to retain the charm of the farm; if you could manage to forget the facilities' former use, large photos of Guernsey cows and antique farm implements grace most walls.

And the food! Nightly, we were treated to cookies and milk, icecream floats by the fire pit, specialty coffee drinks, bananas foster and many other delicacies. . . after we'd been offered dessert with dinner. We dined -- very well -- at the only place on earth where you can get Chick-Fil-A on a Sunday. They performed amazingly delicious magic with green beans and even cauliflower.

Admittedly, the goal we were given was lofty: To help make a difference in families by involving and empowering fathers in their children's lives. But in that setting, with that band of visionaries, we caught a glimpse of what we could achieve together.

-ma'am