Occupy Washington

This was the year: Fall Break found us taking advantage of the hopitality of family and the taxpayer dollars of Americans everywhere...staying in Virginia with Matt's brother and his fabulous family, haunting the greater D.C. area freeways, Metro stations and public landmarks. You might recognize this little joint: while we were wildly appreciative of Senator Mike Coffman's efforts to arrange a tour, the 7 a.m. start time was a bit of a kick in the teeth: we left our digs at 5 a.m. (that's 3 a.m. Colorado time, folks)...

Monticello, home of my hero and yours, Jefferson. Charlottesville has seen warmer days, I imagine, but I'm good with it: Virginia in the summer would kill me. The more I learn about good ol' T.J. the more my admiration grows: what an amazing set of personalities set in a certain sphere at a certain time to make the impossible come true: government by the people, for the people. The grand experiment. If any of these men, and women, I suppose, were once ounce less than what they were, we'd still be the biggest colony in England, drinking our overpriced tea.

Though time didn't allow the tour of Ford's Theater I would have preferred, we saw those monuments in all their glory (MLK's was thronged with people as it was newly dedicated), the Mall, the Smithsonians, Udvar/Hazy, Union Station, the White House, the Capital, Colonial Williamsburg, Wolf Creek Lodge, Monticello, the University of Virginia, Mount Vernon, Manassas, Gettysburg. So much to see, so little time, but we made a fair dent, I'd say. The hope is that we made an impression on the noggins of the kids in tow, gave the something to think about and be grateful for.

Who drains a Reflecting Pool? I mean, kill the entire moment, people.

Not the best shot of Jefferson's Memorial, but I wanted to capture the cool reflection. Vivid memory of this building: a group of teens miming a piece about God and the writing of the Constitution. It was...um...

But what a great trip. Proud to be an American and all that. Even the OWS protestors were a great springboard to discussions highlighting what makes this place the shining light on a hill: we're the best thing going on the planet right now. What a privilege to live here and be able to take it all for granted. God bless America.

Shane Roman

A caveat: this will be picture heavy. It's Shane. I don't have a more photo-worthy child. Or, at the very least, I don't have a more visually entertaining child. He's now 9, which boggles the mind, how quickly he seems to romp through his days...

Sunday birthdays are the absolute worst, but this little man soldiered through without a scratch. Here he kneels before his homemade personalized sports quilt courtesy of Grandma Norma: check the square boasting his mad swimming skills.

Just a pricelss pic - you never have to guess with this fella. Does he like his new catcher's gear received as a present earlier that evening? Ya think?

His only gift request. So perfect for him - he's a good hitter, he can chase down your grounder, but what he really wants to do is stop you from scroring, because to allow you to do so would render his own accomplishment as worthless. I know, I know, we're working on it. But, really, I've learned with him: it's much more about how you do than how he does. Let's embrace it, shall we? If you're too busy judging him, you don't have time to love him.

So back to that Sabbath birthday...we have that horrible 8-11 a.m. block for church. Which we hate directly before it occurs and while it's slogging on, but once we're home at 11:30? Suh-weet! All day to ourselves. And when your birthday falls on Halloween Eve, hey now, festivities abound: carving pumpkins, eating garishly decorated cupcakes, roasting seeds, watching Linus and the Great Pumpkin as well as 'The Legend of Sleepy Hollow'...which he loved because of the core violence and creep factor, but one which I really should have checked more thoroughly beforehand.

Great Pumpkin Meet in Longmont, birthday eve. Which he swam with Eve. But once he was dry, the whole lot of us headed downtown to Elitch's for what is turning into the annual Crawford family boys' birthday party - this year Grace could ride most of the 'big kid' rides with Dad and the fellas. I took one early turn on the teacups and was out for the duration. No rejoicing.

Without this kid, it would just have been another routine drive up to Aspen for a swim meet and just your average death-defying trip through blinding snow and ice up Vail Pass in a vehicle without an operating defroster. See the joy he brings to all occasions?

If his career playing Halo in our basement doesn't pan out, he's all set to be a cartographer. Here he navigates the corn maze during his field trip...

dares to pretend he is cowed by his buddies' fervor at his party...

and pulling the poker face at the Pack Meeting wherein he scored all this bling through Scout Camp and proudly advancing to the Wolf den. Ah, Shane, seriously? All of your siblings are fantastic, and I adore them. They make me cry and laugh, I love them with the white-hot intensity of a thousand suns. But without you...? Can't even consider it.

Ty Clark

Our suspicions were confirmed when we received neither owl nor letter of acceptance to Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry (though, technically, we could receive one prior to the next school year, yes?), but it was still the happiest of birthdays for our 11-year-old Ty.

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The sheer dumb luck of having a Wednesday birthday in the Crawford household makes it necessary to receive gifts on a Tuesday...the inconvenience was more than offset by yet another Wii time-waster...

and this amazing bat. I'm still mesmerized by the fact that a whittled down and polished piece of wood can inspire this level of reaction, but, there you are. Birthday dinner was served at Gunther Toody's, a fabulous '50-s themed diner just up 'in town'.

Wednesday is anathema in this family - if you need to be there, it's scheduled on a Wednesday evening. Between the hours of 6 and 8. So, Wednesday, October 12, we had a birthday, as well as pack meeting wherein our boy was awarded his Arrow of Light and crossed over to Boy Scouts, and, not a group of people prone to lounging about haplessley, said boy was promptly afterward trundled over to the not-even-remotely-close ballfield where his fall ball team geared up for their first playoff game.

But that's all we had on the agenda. Before Ty went on to hit a ground triple allowing the go-ahead runs in the game and accordingly awarded the Offensive Player of the game, his magnificent 11-yr-old scout leader, Monte Pierce, walked us through the drill of what to expect as Ty continues through Scouting...

Ty knew all the right answers and gestures for the whole shebang, which, if you know Ty at all, is crucial - he's not one to wing it.

Proud and happy days. Payoff days, if you will, for the seemingly endless shutting between practices and camps and meetings. Eleven years of plain good fun with a darling boy for whom we will be forever grateful, who has taught us so much, required so much and given so much.

Just One More Level...

Every now and again, data comes to light that proves, irrefutably, that you are, indeed, the best mother on the planet.

This decade, the proof came in the form of the annual Ty/Shane joint birthday extravaganza, this year brought to us courtesy of the fine folks at Games2U, who are truly revolutionary: what you do is take a small-ish semi, fill it with four huge screens displaying four different games and tiered seating on the inside, place a few Wii screens on the sides, park in front of some kid's house, and let the attendees play unlimited games for 2 1/2 hours.

And, as it turns out, because my sister is a Groupon devotee, I got it for half-price - even full price would be a steal, but half-price certainly works. One party for two boys with 20 guests, no prep, no clean-up? I'll call that a bargain, the best I ever had. Here's the view...

for these fellas on the inside...

especially that enormously handsome one on the right...

and the dashing specimen on the left.

The horde. Say what you will about boys, I contend that 20 young men are a sight easier to handle than 5 young ladies.

Shane felt that the vocals were a bit boisterous. Which involves at least 17 levels of irony.

Wishes en route, or so the rumor goes.

Mission accomplished. Best party ever, says mom, and everybody said the same. You need the small pats on the back whenever you can get them.