A Picture Post!

This was Patrick's "ghetto racket."  He bought it (in better condition) at a thrift store for $3 and was too cheap to spend his money on a new one.  His team-mates kinda made fun of him for it.  I finally bought him a new one, but everyone remembers Patrick as the "ghetto racket" guy.

Elf got a magazine from Hy-Vee grocery store in the mail and tried their strawberry-banana recipe.  He added a bit of topping as well.

"Aaaaaaammmm!"  Too bad the pic does not have sound effects.  It's part of the whole dessert experience.  Elf demanded I take this photograph and share it with you.

Woodjie's first day of kindergarten/summer school was Monday!  Woodjie is now a SHARK because that's the mascot of this elementary school  He is in their "integrate the disabled kids and hopefully not spend any money on them next year" program.  Ok, it has a nicer name than that.   But hopefully he does well!  I have no idea... there are no notes home in elementary.  I suppose I will call his teacher in a couple weeks and say "hi!" after the class is well-established.

Miss Rose is Vogue-ing a shirt I lengthened with a bit of fabric.  The pic doesn't do it justice; the shirt flares everywhere as she walks about and is really quite cute.

I hemmed in/made narrower a medium T-shirt I bought at the thrift store for a dollar.  I'm thinking to make the shirt more "dress" like that I will need a ruffle or something at the bottom.  Or.  With a little less smiling and the right footwear she can just be Emo.

Happy Birthday to Patrick!

Patrick is now an adult. He's going to register to vote and for the draft very soon. First thing he mentioned this morning...

Dinner

Patrick is reallllly tired of my making peanut butter sandwiches or frozen foods for dinner. I told him fine, you can make dinner if you like, but you have to clean dirty pans and that sort of thing. Here is his creation: fritos, strawberries and bananas. For non-allergic children, a covering of cheddar cheese and the dish is heated in the microwave. Ok. Verdict: this food is amazing.

Playing a Grandmaster!

Elf and Emperor recently had an opportunity to listen to a lecture and play Grandmaster Akobian at the Kansas City Chess Club. Thanks to Tradebot Systems, Inc. for sponsoring this! GM Akobian put on an excellent presentation, and all the children were very attentive. And thanks to my friend Maria for sending me this picture and giving me permission to use it on the blog. :) Patrick came along as well and was glad he went. He just doesn't want his pic on the blog. Meh.

The Usual Small-Talk

Patrick is craning his neck and squinting to see inside the car going past us. "Ohhh... It's *them.* I know those guys," he remarked.

"Oh, that's nice," I told him.

"No, it isn't."

(What should I say to THAT?) "Well, do you know them from school or...?"

"I take NO responsibility for what they've done today," he stated emphatically.

"Well, you've been with me every hour today, except for one hour during which I left you with Emperor, and no way you'd get away with anything around him, so... I don't see why you are saying you won't take responsiblity for what they've done TODAY specifically."

"I also take no responsibility what. so. ever. for what they do on ANY day," he said.

Um, okayyy... how to recover this conversation... "What is it they do?"

"I do not have to answer that."

I participate in a large number of dead-end conversations along these lines.

Patrick's Trip to China... A Debriefing.

Here's the picture I'm *allowed* to use from Patrick's trip to China. It's the only one I'm allowed to put on the blog. The other pictures are *private,* he tells me. They feature a few shots of the Great Wall, and of himself and his friends, but mostly... they're just odd. Pictures of his teacher picking his nose. "Random Guy" pictures... of other obviously European/American/stuff we see at home anyway- type tourist-y people. And photos of a *sex shop* and the prostitute cell phone number graffiti. Just classic. Just what he'll want to share with his grandkids someday.

That's ok, though... I'm sure he brought home lots of nice pressies for his siblings and the post cards he sent will arrive in the mail soon.

Well, no, he didn't get anything like that, Patrick told me. His suitcase was crammed with old pop bottles, food wrappers, GARBAGE from his trip (they weren't allowed to throw out things at the hotel... what is up with that?) and a cloth napkin from the hotel. Arg. Surely you got SOMETHING, something... something to share with your brothers at least?

YES! He brought home *used chopsticks* for them. No postcards.

Nothing.

Well... I shouldn't say *nothing.* On Elfie's birthday, he was presented with a "shock" gum container. Warning: not to be used by anyone under 14. Warning: not to be used by people over 50. Warning: not to be used by anyone with a medical condition.

Warning: just keep it in the wrapper, Elfie. I suppose it's the thought that counts.

Patrick and Me.

Patrick and his orchestra group left at 3 a.m. yesterday morning. They should be in Beijing right now finishing dinner and getting ready for bed. I am 5 ft 8 inches tall, and Patrick is not standing as straight as he could be. I'm thinking his legs are probably sore from being cramped on the flight. :)

On God and Laundry (Eclectic Post)

Patrick loves to bug his teachers, but they're not the only people he bothers. He likes to wait until we're alone, driving in a car or going places, and then act all goofy and silly with me.

"How do you know that God is the only god?" he asks me out of the blue. Well, because the Bible tells us so, that there are not other gods, or rather, that the "other gods" are just idols. I think. I'm trying to negotiate the parking lot and don't multitask very well.

Patrick doesn't even stop to think about that one. "How do you know that God didn't just defeat some Titan and BECOME God? Hmm?"

What? "Like Zeus," he nods and smiles as if he's in thought. "You know, Zeus and I have a personal relationship." He notes my expression, but he's enjoying himself. "No, really. He speaks to me. I mean, he doesn't speak AUDIBLY to me. Just... in spirit." Here he looks upward and holds his hand to his heart like one of those cheesy "Jesus holding the lamb" pictures everyone has stashed somewhere. Maybe if he works at it he can be God someday himself. He's just not sure whose butt he has to kick first.

Of course I tell him how dopey that really is and to quit it because Dad needs pop at Wal-Mart and he's taking too long getting out of the car. Patrick acts all insulted that I've belittled the holy writings HE wants to talk about blah blah blah.

Siiiigh. I know teens are supposed to "test limits," but I hardly know what to say to him. He doesn't rebel in the conventional sense. He insists his siblings eat dinner with him. He doesn't feel comfortable going to church alone. He is having a HUGE HUGE hissy fit about having to miss Wednesday night church this week because he must practice for the orchestra trip to China. I mean... refusal to skip church for free pizza?

Seriously. The kid doesn't make any sense. He's either questioning theology entirely so he can mess with my brain for fun or wondering why we don't do things more properly and conservatively for reallio.

I'm trying to tell him that it's ok for very occasional church-missings for something as big as a trip to China. It's also ok to miss school very occasionally for something important at church. BALANCE, ok? Of course I get the Jesus-going-to-temple verses from the guy and a general refusal to go... again.

I told him he's going, and he can choose between violating what Mom said and having perfect church attendance. Your pick.

He's decided that this one time, he will be ok practicing the cello and eating pizza with his friends. God bless him. I hope he has a good time.

In other news, Elf and Emperor had to accompany me on my latest trip to the laundromat. My dryer is busted and there is NO way I'm hanging my nasty stained stuff outside for everyone to look at. I save a lot of money on clothes and towels by not replacing soiled things. Hey, they're clean. They just don't look very good.

We emerged from the van with some wet clothes and some odd looks from onlookers.

"This... laundry place... is a whole building for laundry!" exclaimed Emperor in a loud tone as we entered.

"It's just like on MR. BEAN! Where he LOSES HIS PANTS!" screamed Elf.

Ohhhhh... I'm only cringing on the inside. I gave books to Elf and Emperor and told them to go sit over there and start reading. I had Rose beside me in the stroller and Woodjie off at preschool, so now I had a shot at getting the clothes dried. Woo-hoo.

But Emperor didn't want to read aloud if other people are nearby! They might LISTEN!

Um, no one cares. No one cares, Emperor, I swear. But after clarifying with me that I was not "swearing" even though I said that I swore (I know, I do this sort of thing 500 times a day; it's almost second nature), I finally get him to move to the general area with the book.

Ok, he's there now, but the book feels too soft and he can't hold it! I had to hold it for him!

Strangely enough, this is a usual thing at home. He has to have the book not touch his hands. He can read just fine as long as he doesn't actually have to touch paper. That would just feel all weird. Arrrgh. I get the clothes into the dryer and hold the book open for him.

Rose is the only easy one. Rose occupied herself with plastic frogs and said "ribbit" every now and then. Elf must gesticulate and do all the accents whilst he is reading. I'm trying to let it slide that he has stood up and is waving his arms around dramatically. This Elf would be great for the theatre if he weren't so afraid of "more than five people in the room." A fat old woman apparently doesn't like classic literature or free theatre and hobbles over to the other end of the room to (eew) clip her fingernails. Just as well.

Oh, well... the drying session ended up with a big fight about who got to sit in which chair and declarations of *eternal* hate. I made Elf apologize for yelling at him, but while he did, Emperor had to howl about something. Just shhh. Let him finish talking. Now what... ?

Elf HAD HIS FINGERS CROSSED during the apology. Then he doesn't have to mean it! I made him get his hands out of his pockets, and his fingers were crossed. Emperor is in tears because now Elf's apology is null and void, and he is *eternally* hated.

Elf's evil plan had been discovered. I'm pretty miffed, staring at him and waiting for the big confession and apology.

"But that would be dishonest!" Elf tells me. "And you are placing temptation in my path by making me lie and say I'm sorry. AND I **HATE** HIM FOREVER!! He took my chaiiiir! GRRR!"

I am just not saying anything right this minute, because I am rounding up the folded clothes as quickly as possible. We make it to the van after the entire basket falls on the girl's head from the top of the stroller and I have to comfort her.

Other people at the laundromat do not want to see this, I tell them after they have finally buckled in and are ready to go. This is just soooo not OK. I'm sorry that you lost your star for today.

"Wait. We lost our star?" came the bewildered voice from the back of the van. Ohhh, the injustice of it all. I don't know how I could be so arbitrary about these things.

Odds and Ends

Public School Update

Patrick's English teacher sent the following letter to me last week (names changed, otherwise copy/paste):

Mrs. C,

This is to notify you that Patrick will be reading the book In the Time of the Butterflies by Julia Alvarez. As stated in the letter I sent home a month ago (please see attached), the substitute reading is of the same genre, Magical Realism, and has the same setting of Latin America. Please understand that Patrick will be working independently on this unit. I will prepare a booklet of materials for his study that correlates to the class’s activities. Any homework assignments and quizzes for Patrick will be of the same point value as the class. The objectives of the unit are the same, and the final in-class writing will be of the same nature and difficulty.

Mrs. English Teacher's Name

So... Patrick will receive a different assignment, but without input from others on what is really expected on the tests (you know that's often given in discussions; you can tell by what the teacher focuses upon, etc.), he will truly be on his own. And yeah... there WAS a note home about a month ago that the reading was explicit... but I hadn't expected "explicit and without literary value, and furthermore not even originally written in the English language."

I was chatting with another mom at the orchestra concert recently and she told me her family was moving across town but that her daughter would really, realllly miss having Patrick in her class. They're in the same English class and she a Christian, but the silent type. She has a hard time speaking up. Patrick says the things others wish they could, but... don't. And apparently he's pretty good at the verbal battles. I'm pretty sure that this woman with the super MBA and who is at least three times his age bests him quite often, but he's fighting. :)

I told her about the recent assignment and my objection to it. She thought that it would be along the lines of Of Mice and Men and I assured her that I read Catcher in the Rye, Of Mice and Men, and that sort of thing that was "controversial" during my high school years... and this book doesn't even come close to having that sort of vague literary redemption. She expressed an interest in reading this mysterious book. We both reasoned that it may be that her daughter was too embarrassed to talk about what was in there. Whatever this family decides, I wish them the best...

Woodjie Update

Woodjie is constantly climbing things. Homeschool can be pretty tough to teach with his hopping all over everywhere. Oh... and he takes off his clothes. A few times I've literally gone into the kitchen to start making lunch or something and I'll turn around to see a NAKED MAN in front of me. Well, a short little giggling naked man who runs away when I try to scoop him up and put him downstairs. Doggone it, he's cute but I have a feeling this will NOT go over well with people in the community when he's ten.

Emperor and Elf

We have their summer planned! They'll be taking Saturday swimming classes again at the local community center. We will work very, very hard so that we can get everything I think ought be done in time for a school vacation before July.

We're looking at short overviews on several religions in social studies. Emperor thought that he would "test Hinduism scientifically" by watching a dead spider in the corner to see if it came back to life. I told him the only way to know if Hinduism really "works" would be for people to remember their past lives as amoebas and fish and so forth. Elf thought that the better idea would be to pray over the spider in Jesus' Name and see what happens. I'm thinking it was just the spider's time to go, buddy...

We're also learning a bit about how to take notes on index cards/ outline for a research report. I had the "brilliant" idea of having the boys take notes during a sermon. Here's what I found on Elf's card:

Pastor does an itoresting words to say. I am suprised he has all this to say.

Um, don't outdo yourself there! Overwork leads to stress. Can you believe my super-bright child did this?? Yes, and he would have been going into fifth grade were he in public school. Mommy is sooo proud of him; he is just a shining beacon for homeschooling.

When I told him all this the other day, he cringed a bit, giggled and said, "Yeah..." My point was made.

Fine Literature

Patrick's English teacher is one of those East Coast liberal types, full of crazy ideas, Patrick tells me. She spouts off nutty ideas in class and runs the school's Native American Club after school. No, there's nothing wrong with "Native Americans," but basically, white Anglo-Saxon Protestant culture is pretty consistently denigrated by her. About half the works assigned weren't even originally written in English! In an English class, that's just wrong.

She's figured out by now that Patrick is a Christian, and a conservative one at that. She has a few snide things to say, and Patrick has a few snide things to say back. When assignments are handed out, Patrick gets the ones that refer to the Bible because she knows he likes all that stuff. We can't really avoid the Bible, she tells the class, because it's the most classic literature written by a committee, not to mention the fact that it gets referenced in the *older* literary works.

In short, Patrick is the God-boy of the class. He takes advantage of this unique opportunity to be an ambassador for Christ by using the cartoon assignment to portray his teacher as a two-headed worm that takes in assignments at one end and um, produces grades at the other. He writes things like "our honourable chairman said..." in his reviews. He compared the current public educational system to the Nazi concentration camps for his "satire" assignment. Obama, of course, is vaguely alluded to as the Communist, Nazi leader of the free world, and he writes about what a great thing that is that teachers will have more power than pesky parents with much sarcasm.

In short, he gets her goat and she grades him accordingly. Sigh. Brown-noser, he is not.

This is the same young man that I got a worried phone call about a couple of years ago. They were studying ancient Greece and he refused to look at the nudie statues, the social studies teacher told me. He needs to complete this assignment. Could you tell your son he can look at the statues? Um, ok... I told him he could look but not loooook. No ogling. Compromise met. Patrick wasn't particularly pleased, but he dealt with it.

Patrick said that he was just assigned a "mature" book in English class. He raised one eyebrow as he said it and told me I ought to look at it. "Mature," I guess, is eduspeak for "written porno that no way any decent, God-fearing American would allow to be distributed in the local library, let alone keep in his home."

My. This book is the most smutty, disgusting, amazingly bad work of "literature" I think I've ever seen. I tried to give it a good chance... tried to see some redeeming literary value in the OVERALL of the book. Sometimes when a rape scene or the like is included, it's used to demonstrate injustice or bring to light some element of the human condition, etc. I really tried to give this book a fair chance.

I got through about 20 pages. Lots of incest. Large breasts. Genital smells as turn-ons. Chastity belts and marital rape. Spears through the throat. I finally put the thing down when it went into some detail about how the mom in the book is checking out her young teen son's penis and thinking about its size in comparison with his dad's.

Done. Just done. So I wrote the following excuse note:

Dear Mrs. English Teacher (note I did not use preferred MS. title, sure hope she's married):

Please excuse Patrick from reading One Hundred Years of Solitude in English class. Surely some other, more ennobling work can be selected that fulfills class requirements. We would like one that does not cater to the prurient interests or is otherwise unwholesome.

Thank you for your prompt consideration on this matter.

Mrs. C
email address here

Patrick had a good chuckle when he read the note. "This is just what she needs to hear," he said with a big grin. "Perfect." He wanted to know why I wouldn't just email his teacher and why I handed him the note.

Honestly? I am giving him the note because he is nearly 17. In a year and a half, he will be able to watch porno without my consent if he's out of the house. He will be able to do all kinds of things without my permission. Patrick knows my preference on the book. I told him, though, that if he wanted to fill his mind with that smut, that he is old enough to understand the potential consequences.

But I am giving him the note so that the decision is truly his. He can hand in the note, or not hand in the note.

I have a feeling that he will hand in the note because not only does he not want to continue reading this book, he will also drive his teacher batty with the parental backup.

Lookit This Picture, Mom!!

Elf waves me over to see a photo of two scorpions looking like they're holding hands.

"You have to hear this," he tells me, and settles in to read. "When scorpions reproduce, the male uses his pincers to hold the female's pincers. Then he drags her around until he can fertilize her."

Here Patrick, who was standing nearby, has to smirk and raise his eyebrow at me. Shut up, Patrick.

"When scorpions do this, it looks like they are dancing," Elf read.

"Um, yeah, it does kinda look like they are dancing, I guess," I told him as I tried to do the "look like I'm really busy and in too much of a hurry to talk right now" thing because I am uncomfortable. Mostly because I just faintly heard Patrick snort.

"Sometimes getting dragged around makes the female angry," Elf continued. Man, that kid CANNOT take a hint. Now Patrick is devoting his full attention to this reading. He's nodding and his arms are folded. My heart is sinking and I'm probably turning red. Great.

I wish I left that so-called "kids' book" on the library shelf but noooo. I had to get all homeschool-y and make the kids research a report on "something about a desert animal that is interesting."

"The male will then sting her," Elf read as Patrick came over to check out the pictures and nod. YES! There is scorpion porn, right in the middle of this children's book! I'm flabbergasted, but Elf just keeps reading as if scorpions *ahem* doing this were an acceptable topic of conversation. "This does not kill the female, but it numbs her so that she will stay still. The male can then fertilize the female."

"Interesting technique," Patrick comments.

"Once the dance is over, the male scorpion runs away. He does not want the female to try to eat him. It does not happen very often, but sometimes she does." Little Elf has his eyebrows up in that chubby Spock "isn't that interesting and odd" sort of pose.

"Ohhh," Patrick nods and does the "hmm" pose. Clearly he has no interest in directing the attention *away* from this awful book.

"Well... that's very... disturbing, Elf," I sputter, hoping that was positive enough. "I guess the female scorpion gets kinda mad about being dragged around and stung."

"And fertilized," Patrick interjects with a grin. He's 16 and I'm still not sure how I'm going to raise this one.

"Um, we have to go now," I tell Elf. "Lock us out there, would ya?"

"Sure! So... did you like the story? Was it interesting?"

"Welllll... you read a bunch of stuff I didn't know about before, I'll tell you that!"

"OK!" he said proudly as he was shutting the door. "See you later!"

The *Love* Poem.

A friend once described me as being "uppity and sarcastic," probably because she has never met Patrick.

Ohhhh, my, Patrick is worse than all those arrogant professors you had in college on a bad day when they're desperate to impress a colleague with their mean wit. He can absolutely floor you with his answers, and he doesn't even need the little tweed coat with the leather patches on the elbows or little reading glasses perched on his nose to make you feel inferior. If I wanted someone to, say, write something that would be sure to alienate a potential girlfriend, I'd ask Patrick to write it for me.

Patrick might be writing love poems for a friend to pass off as his own, he told me when he arrived home from school. And he might be getting paid to do it. (Patrick? LOVE poem? *snort inwardly here*)

"How much are you getting paid, Patrick?"

Well, I'm not saying I AM doing this for money, he said. I just said I miiiight be. (Ok, so he's being a smartie and teasing Mom at this point...)

"What's in the poem?" I asked.

"What poem? You have a poem?"

(He's good at this game.) You know, the poem he might have written and might get paid to do by a friend? That poem? Round and round we go on this for a bit until he feeels like answering...

Yep, he's probably getting money for it but doesn't want to admit it because Mom has- no kidding - about $1.47 counting the kitchen knick-knack drawer pennies because she hasn't been to the bank. But I know Patrick has this sort of zing-y sarcastic wit that can be hilariously insulting. He finally got around to describing his literary opus that begins with smoochy gushing over the young lady's beautiful brown eyes and ends with some sort of night of yowling passion.

UM...

Maybe Old Mom should not ever, never-never-never, ask a question unless she is truly prepared for the answer. Now I'm left wondering if some poor girl is receiving a love note at this very moment from some lovestruck young man... that was really written by my studiously innocent child who had better not have any idea that "passion" could refer to anything but Jesus's death on the cross. He's only 16, and at that age I was...

Um...

Ok, I think I'll settle for the poetry.

The Cops Stop Patrick!

Patrick wants to go on an orchestra trip to China. To do this, he must raise some $1,500 before April for his share of the expenses. He's selling "$5 off" coupons to a local car wash for $3, and so far he's raised $30. He wandered up the street to sell some more when the cops pulled up and demanded to know who he was and where he was going.

The kid was just up the street from our house. Practically in sight! We've lived in this house for 12 years, and by now you'd think everyone would know who he is. He wasn't stealing stuff, racing automobiles, or... oh... I don't know... vandalizing local churches and threatening to kill people like other kids on our street have allegedly (legal disclaimer!) done in the past. Not mentioning any names, because I'm sure those records get expunged and the perp is magically innocent legally when he turns 18, but let's just say if the cops need to come out, it probably shouldn't be to investigate Patrick.

He was selling $3 tickets. For orchestra boosters. From the local school. You know, a bonafide local fundraiser? Unlike the "send this inner-city kid to college with useless magazine subscriptions and you have no way to verify the organization" or "buy this special cleaning cloth" specials from some guy you've never seen before or even the, "Hi. Would you like a free copy of Watchtower magazine?" that we get on occasion.

I'd like to know who ratted the child out.

The officer sent him home and told him he couldn't do this. D says I need to just "let it go" and find out what licensing we'd need to purchase to get this done legally. And if this selling door-to-door thing is illegal, then it's illegal and there's no use arguing. And that I had a rather un-Christian attitude toward the (no-good dirty slime-dog, just adding that in for clarification) people who decided to call.

I'm steaming mad about it! I'm thinking under Sunshine Laws, I have a good chance of finding out who did it. D says I should just let it gooooo.

I have called various city code people and left messages at the Orchestra Boosters. Hopefully we'll get some answers soon as to what the real deal is. I am no lawyer but think that city code is on my side:

"It shall be unlawful for any person to exercise, carry on or engage in within the city for pay or profit, any of the occupations, trades, businesses, avocations or agencies, mentioned in this chapter without securing a license, and paying the license tax as provided in this chapter; provided, that, no religious, benevolent or educational society located in this city, shall be required to pay any license to conduct any kind of entertainment or to serve refreshments of any kind in any public building in this city."

I'm thinking the local public school counts. D says no, because the BOOSTERS are selling the tickets, and Patrick bought a ticket and is reselling them. Sigh. We finally got in touch with the city code officer and do you know what? She is going to talk to the legal team tomorrow about it and get this clarified.

Legal team. Clarified. Your tax dollars at work!

Now really, I understand if Patrick or anyone else starts looking in your windows and acting weird, that you'd call the cops. I've had that happen before with other strange salesguys. I've even had some lady try to open my front door before! Yes. And I've had some suspicious and sly characters about looking to convert me to become a Witness. But wow. Do you know how much money the taxpayer is going to have to spend on this stuff because some local cranky neighbour couldn't just say, "No, thank-you" to the tickets, or just not answer the door?

Oh. And she said that the city and the school district may have to get together to issue guidelines they'd both abide by. More money gone. What a waste!

Anyway, here's hoping that he can find a way to unload the rest of the tickets. What a hassle!

Patrick and G

Usual sort of day, long ago. Note Patrick's clown is on the table with his snacks. He is petting little G's head while he holds his "whooaile" (say with Southern accent) and "Melmo." Snuggly.

Moses and the Mountain.

Based on Exodus 19. God asks everyone to get ready for three days. Really, really ready. Stay off the mountain. Are you ready? God has some important instructions. Get ready. Are you ready? The music was originally composed and played by Patrick on his Finale software. Woodjie and Rose are making noise, but try to concentrate on the music, ok? Thanks for watching!

Patrick at NHD Contest

Patrick went to Truman Library in Independence for the National History Day competition. He presented his DVD about Bobby Fischer. That guy had some... language. But Patrick enjoys chess very much and wanted to find out more about him. He wishes, after doing so, that he had chosen someone else to spend so much time researching about. He also didn't figure out how to bleep out words in the interview snippets he included from Fischer, which is a bit of a problem. I'm sure D is glad it's over as it snowed AND he got lost on the way out to the competition. D returned with several photographs like this, many of which are blurry and/or cheesy.

Patrick's Medal

Patrick ranked fourth in the junior high division, sixth in high school division at the Missouri State Championship this year. Go Patrick!

The Secret Santa Gift.

Red leather, star conchos and green gems added for a Christmas look. Entirely handcrafted by D down to the stitching on the side. The gift must've been appreciated as the recipient (a girl in one of Patrick's classes) wore it right away.

Third in State!

Congrats to Patrick for placing third in the state at the 2008 Missouri Grade State Championship in Columbia, Missouri!! He went with his friends from the school's chess club.

Patrick Posing.

This child has been commanded to stop growing. I am NOT buying him anything new until summertime. But next winter, he'll need a whole new wardrobe. He's taller than me now. That isn't right. D also had to demonstrate to him "how to shave peach fuzz" recently. Patrick does not like the process.