A song and a Shel . . .

My kids love music.  I like to ensure that they hear it in many forms.  This includes good a capella.  Recently, that has come to mean I have incorporated The Warblers (from Glee).  The boys have always enjoyed Train's hit "Hey, Soul Sister" especially The Warblers version.

As much as the kids love to sing, and as expressive as they are, both (especially Alex, it seems) can be a bit shy if someone is caught watching them.  This has been most noticeable in the car because the kid can tell that the rearview mirror adjustment is intended to watch him.  Recently, however, Heidi got him on camera using her phone.  Unbeknownst to him, she was watching.  Below is a link to Alex singing.  Enjoy.  The boy can enunciate.

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=sSazFf3rH4g

Owen's show-n-share for this week is to talk about his favorite author.  He has chosen Shel Silverstein.  I asked him what he wanted to learn about him; below is what Owen and I found.  The students didn't need to do this, but in the midst of three track meets this week, I thought it would be some of the best time I could have with him this week.  He quickly identified some things he wanted to know, so we worked from there.  The title is his, and I must admit, as an English teacher, it was fun to help him see the importance of citing his sources . . .

News about Shel Silverstein

By Owen Pries

He was born in Chicago on September 25, 1930.  He died on May 10, 1999.

He was a poet, singer, song-writer, musician, composer, cartoonist, screenwriter, and author of children’s books.

He wrote over 400 poems and 11 children’s books.

His books have sold over 20 million copies.

His favorite book was Lafcadio, the Lion Who Shot Back.

My favorite is A Light in the Attic.  I also like The Giving Tree.

I used Wikipedia and shelsilverstein.com to find my information.

So, yeah . . . that's kinda what's been happening around here lately.  They grow up fast, but the tree (and the Dad) is happy.  

Aw, shit.

Shit is an interesting word.  How many definitions can you think of right now?  Or maybe . . . what is it used to define?  I'll spare you the list I made prior to posting this, but I suppose you can come up with quite a list yourself.

So . . . I've been thinking about a lot of shit lately.  I feel like I've stepped in a plethora o' crap.  And I feel like the world is filled with too many pieces of it.  The strange thing is when I think of all the pieces of it in the world, I gain perspective on the fact that what I feel like I'm stepping in just isn't that horrible.

And shit is funny, too.  Yesterday, our family had a great day playing outside, doing yard work, shooting baskets, riding bikes, and playing golfquet (some of you may need to ask about this Matt Pries-original that dates to 1990).  Our family usually reserves Sunday nights for a light dinner (popcorn and apples is a favorite) and either games or a movie.  Last night, we watched the first half of Field of Dreams.  For our Pennsylvania friends, yes, that is the movie where Iowa is compared to heaven.  Just sayin'.  Anyway . . . during the movie, a character says something and spells the word "shit": "S-H-I-T".
After she spelled it, Owen asked, "What does that spell?"
Before I could answer, his mouth was agape and his eyes big: "That is not a good word."
"Why not?" I asked, wondering if he had identified it.
"It's the S-H-word," he said.
"Well, how do you know it?" I asked.
"I sounded it out," he said.
"So what is the word?"
He looked at Heidi and me, a look of wonder coloring his face, clearly thinking to himself that he should not say this word.  Wanting to see how this would go, and not wanting to make too big a deal, I said, "You won't get in trouble."
And then he said it.  "Shit."
AHHHH!  Heidi and I had to hide the laughter.  I pulled myself together enough to say, "So you know that isn't a word we should use."
He said, "Yeah.  That is a bad word."
"Well, Owen," I said, "Where did you hear it?  Mom and I don't talk that way in front of you."
He leaned back, raised his eyebrows, and said, "I don't know about that, Dad."
HA!  I guess we need to work on it.  And we told the kids that, too.  Not that telling kids is signing a contract in blood, but we thought we did a good job of not dropping any swear words around the kids.  Gotta do better.  At any rate, this was quite a moment.  Field of Dreams kicks ass.  Oops.

And in terms of shit . . .

I heard a great anecdote last fall.  Basically, we often think that the grass looks greener on the other side of the street.  But maybe there's more shit in that yard.

That is a helpful reminder for Heidi and me as we navigate surprise expenses for refrigerators, carpet, treadmills, washers and dryers, and water regulators . . . .  It's a bunch of shit.  But you know, when I think about how good our life is . . . our shit smells like roses.

As an addendum . . . while finishing up the movie tonight (guys' night while Heidi is at dinner with friends) . . . we were near the end when Alex asked, "Is he talking to his father in heaven?"  I cry every time I see Field of Dreams.  And this time, with both boys on my lap, I was pretty weepy.

Yep . . . shit happens.  And so do dreams.

A Life Philosophy? Maybe so . . .

Today, Heidi was at a conference in Cedar Rapids all day.  A guys' day is something Owen, Alex, and I always enjoy.  Today, we went to an Iowa High School Boys' Basketball All-Star basketball game, did a bit of grocery shopping, and hung out around the house.  The hanging out included preparing a dinner of pulled pork, baked beans, cole slaw, and sweet potato fries.  Granted the last three things were simply purchased, but I was quite proud of the finished produce of bar-b-que pulled pork -- slow cooked for almost 10 hours.  The boys enjoyed the opportunity to help me pick up a few fun things for mom, they had fun doing art, and also enjoyed a little bit of basketball on TV.

We were set to take our dinner to our neighbors' house which would lead into the boys' first ever sleep over, and as they became more restless, I relented and allowed a little bit of xbox.  Mind you, this is the old-fashioned xbox, so they play NCAA Football 2005.  Well, Owen plays.  Alex usually lasts a while and eventually decides to either do a puzzle or play with some other toy instead.  I've gotten the boys interested in dynasty mode in which they play a season for a team (i.e. Iowa Hawkeyes).  They rarely get to play -- and Christmas break was the time it all really started -- but Owen has gotten pretty good at it.  Today, in the season-opener against those pesky Missouri Tigers, he was struggling.  While tending to the sauce for the pork, I heard him call up the stairs to me.  When I went to the stairs, I saw him holding back tears.  "Dad," he said, as the tears began to spill out the corners of his eyes, and his voice took on that holding-back-tears-sound, "I'm down six to nothing, and I've thrown three picks."  Tears were on the cheeks, and the voice was cracking.  I calmly told him to go sit in time-out, and as he walked by me, I said, "When you get out of time-out, I want you to tell me why I sent you there." (note for those who think that was harsh: time-out in this case is "cooling off" not punishment)

A few minutes later, Owen was out of time-out, and I asked him why I sent him there.  He said, "Because I was crying about a video game."  YES!  I continued the conversation with him about all the blessings in his life, and then said, "It's just a video game, but you're frustrated about it.  What can you learn from it?"  He said, "Toughen up." "Yes," I said, "And . . ."  "And get better."

There you have it folks.  So often life forces us to do just that.  Toughen up.  And get better.  I'm proud of my son! (And, yes, I told him so.)

Indeed . . .   Never give up hope.  Romans 5:3-5

Drive to Minnesota and other tidbits

Today, Owen had a birthday party to attend.  We usually make an effort provide fun for the child who doesn't have a birthday party.  Upon being asked what he wanted to do, Alex said, "Play some Wii."  I said, "Well, Alex . . . you need to clean the house, do the laundry, and drive to Minnesota to buy a new car."  He said, "Well, Dad, if I drive to Minnesota, I'll get stopped by the police."  Almost as if the kid thought he really needed to do this thing.  With the temps in the 70s (noting this for our PA guests) Alex shot baskets, rode his bike, and played with friends.  The house is clean enough, and who knows what to do about a car?!?!?

Beyond that, I found myself holding back tears a couple times today.

* Our pastor talked about how so many of us live the "sit on the couch" life.   We might put a check mark by many of the things we believe, but it's not just a check.  God isn't telling us "check"; he's telling us "go".  I can put a check mark by a many things.  Beautiful wife.  Beautiful children.  Good house.  Two vehicles.  Even a dog.  What am I doing?  I do a great deal, and yet . . . . . . suffering and pain in Japan, Libya, Afganistan . . . life is bigger than us or our little daily goings-on.  I am so pleased to be connected to you, but life is bigger.

* I opened a meltaway coffeecake from Jaarsma Bakery in Pella today -- purchased after a track meet at Central College.  As I placed it on a plate and cut it, I truly felt the presence of my mom and dad.  It was powerful.  Such a little thing.  But it meant I called them and left a message in which I had a hard time finishing what I had to say.

* I read of some folks who believe the world will end in May -- or maybe December.  Every time I read stuff like that, I think of the DM Register article in 1992 about the world ending on my friend Drew's birthday.  Yes . . . the world was to end on Oct. 28, 1992.  We're still here.

* Owen was having a hard time sleeping after listening to the first chapter of the first Harry Potter book.  As I held him in my arms, I played guitar and made up a song.  He was asleep in no time.  I pray I remember it.

Sometimes, when you recall a tiny little event, you are forced to face your mortality.
Difficult though it may be, it is beautiful.
Remember. . .

Disney World . . . or bust?

So tonight at dinner, out of the blue, Alex said, "Mom, I want you to have a new baby."  Now some might wonder about the possibility of an old baby, but that's another notion all together.  Anyway . . .

A few weeks back, we asked the boys what they would rather have: a new house or a baby brother or sister.  This is something for us to consider.  Why?  Well, we're hoping to soon have a new house, but sometimes we think we might like a third child.  Why not both?  Um, the third child would be a second mortgage payment with daycare expenses alone, and we couldn't do both.  The boys just weren't sure (well, actually, they wanted both).

So tonight when Alex made his announcement, I said, "New baby's are expensive.  It might even mean we couldn't go to Disney World."  When they asked why, I said that we wouldn't be able to afford it.  Oh, the looks of thoughtfulness and consideration that crossed their faces . . .

Alex then said, "I know.  Mom could stay home with the baby . . . "

Yes, you guessed it.  He considered the option of a stay-at-home mom while I go to work.  Right?

Wrong.  What came from his mouth was quite the comment, especially from this little boy who cherishes his mom above all others.

"Mom could stay home with the baby, and Dad could take us to Disney World."

And there it is.  Truth.  Spoken at the dinner table.

And for those of you wondering . . . we aren't having a third child (unless we win the lottery).  But we do hope to go to Disney World (all four of us) in the next year or two.

Invention -- Patent Pending

Remember the time your mom or dad or uncle or aunt or . . . someone helped you do something that sticks in your mind to this day?  That something that helped them achieve iconic status in your mind?  Well, I don't know if this will be that moment for Owen, but it's something I'll remember as a very special father/son experience . . .

Owen's assignment for "show and share" last week was to invent something or build something using items from around the house.  At first, he wanted to make a Tooth-Puller-Outer.  We envisioned things made with clothes pins, string, and weights.

The night before he was to present, we still had nothing.  I had gone to a Waukee girls' basketball game, and picked the boys up from church where they had been while Heidi was having a meeting there.  It was about 6:30.  The 8 p.m. bedtime was just around the corner.  So on the brief ride home, we talked about what he could make.  Tooth-Puller-Outer?  No.  What about a Student Success Kit? (I was pretty excited about this idea.)  No.  Then he said it.  "I was thinking mini-tetherball."  I asked what he envisioned.  "Well, you know.  Like tetherball, but something we could play at our desk."  At first, I was ready to say "no way!"  But instead I took the bait and asked how he thought he might do it.  He mentioned play dough and a pot.  Suddenly, the vision was in my head, and when we got home, out came the drill.  He snagged a super ball from the garage and the play dough from the "art section" of the hall closet, and we started working.  Granted, the drill meant I did much of the work (and drilling a hole in a super ball is quite interesting), but it was Owen's vision.  When we finished, we enjoyed a quick game before getting ready to bed.  Fully functional mini-tetherball!

What you see below is the finished product.  It was a hit at school, and Owen was thrilled.
The boys like to play it at home, and we think it could mean we're rich.  Well, probably not in terms of money, but at least in terms of joyful memories.

Go Hawks!

Two years ago, I had the chance to take Owen to an Iowa Hawkeye basketball game.  Recently, Alex has been asking when he could go to a game.  Mind you, we go to Waukee High and DCG High games, and have been two Iowa Energy and Harlem Globetrotter games, but there is something about the Hawks.

Saturday, we told the boys we had some errands to do -- which was true -- and when I asked if they wanted a book to read, they asked why, since we were just running errands.  I said, "Well, you'll need something to pass the time on the way to Iowa City."  Alex grinned and said, "You tricked us."

When we pulled into Nana/Papa's driveway, I asked Owen to reach around the seat, and he found the foam #1 finger and foam claw from his first game . . . and I started playing the Iowa Fight Song on the itouch.  "Do you want to watch the game?" I asked.  "Well, yeah," Owen said.  "We could watch Iowa play Michigan when Nana and Papa get home."  "No," I said.  "Do you want to go watch the game?"  Mouths agape, I explained we would be going to the actual game.

Even though the Hawks lost in overtime, the game was exciting, the crowd was returning to what Hawkeye crowds used to be, and the boys got wigs!  We had a brief, but fun visit!  Enjoy the pics . . . I'm guessing the one with the cheerleaders will find its way onto a graduation display!

Inchrusted

The Pries family had a good weekend.  Amidst the busyness with paper grading, and church meetings, we had some time for RnR.  The warm weather meant the boys got to be outside a bunch, and spent several hours shooting hoops in the driveway.  Swimming lessons began, and we had great fun tonight playing games and doing a little High School Musical karaoke on the Wii.

Of note this weekend was Owen doing his homework which included reading a non-fiction piece about the way police and firemen and women do their work.  One question after the reading asked what he would rather be.  He wrote, "Police.  Because I am inchrusted."  Fonix werx!  What made this even more fun was when I asked him what he really wanted to be when he grew up.  He said, "I want to be a dad."  Ah, yes.  A proud moment for me, right?  When I asked him why, he said, "Because it's easy."  HA!  I explained that being a dad was harder than being a teacher, and he couldn't believe it.  So when I asked what he would want to do for a job, he actually said, "A teacher and a coach . . . and a football player."  This from the boy who, this fall said he wanted to be a basketball player and a runner.  Who knows?  When he was two he would say, "Probly be a pastor."

By the way, for those of you thinking about the gender role balance, I asked if being a mom was easy, and he said yes.  Whew!  Here I thought it was just a dad thing.

Oh . . . and track practice starts tomorrow . . . in case you were inchrusted.

The First Blog

I've never really had an online presence.  No facebook.  No twitter.  Nothing.  And I'm happy about that.  I've been reading about some close friends via a blog, and I thought about how cool it must be for their closest family and friends to keep up with their goings-on without having to do any facebook or anything.  Cuz, well, you know, some grandparents, friends, and such, just don't get into that.  Like me.  So I've been able to follow information about our goddaughter, Elizabeth, without having to be on facebook.  And so here I am . . . blogging for the first time ever.  I hope to figure out how to provide occasional pictures with stories, but for now, words will have to do.  So here's the first story . . .

Today, Heidi and I each took the day off from work.  We enjoyed the opportunity to sleep in a bit, get a workout in, drop the boys off later than normal, go out for lunch, etc.  I enjoyed the chance to visit Owen at his school for his Valentine's Day exchange.  Heidi's more flexible job allows her to do more of that than I am able to do.  So we picked Alex up early from his daycare, and he joined us.  As we walked into Owen's school, Alex noticed kids at recess playing in the snow.  "Hey, Dad.  Look at those kids," he said.  "I bet they're having a snowfight."  "Well, Alex," I responded, "I don't think they're having a snowfight.  If kids throw snow at each other at school, they could get kicked out of school for a few days." (this is a real rule at our school).  Alex then said, "So, like, the principal would actually kick them?"

Ah, the literal nature of things.  We like the way Alex makes us laugh.

And I hope you've enjoyed this first blog.  I'll keep working at it.