You Swim Like a Girl

And we continue to watch our oldest child excel at swimming...this summer I took Eve on our first traveling meet, just a Thelma & Louise-type trip through the Rockies to Grand Junction, near the Utah/Colorado border. Beautiful and desert-y, Mesa State College has the biggest pool EVAH. Well, not evah. But pretty dang big.

The meet consists of morning swims, in which, if you place in the top 22, you are invited to return that evening to swim in the finals. Eve was able to swim in the 12 and under girls final on Friday night, which was a real pat on the back for our hard-workin' little mama.

Eve and Cala, cuttin' loose.

She swam exceptionally well, but if I had to bet what her favorite moments were, it was when she and I sat in the hotel room, downing huge plates of pasta from Caruso's, watching HGTV. 'Cause that's how we roll, my girl and I: just hanging out is the best time we could have. That and hitting the discount mall in Silverthorne on the way home.

I don't care what you say: seeing your child's name on a lit scoreboard never gets old.

Cub Scouts Are True

You'll think I'm saying it just to show off, but, truly, I absolutely love Cub Scout Day Camp. Not merely in theory, or even in the sense of shipping the fella boys off for a few days at the end of June so I can do girly things. I love Day Camp enough to volunteer for two of those days, once to be with the regular group of Cubs, such as the one pictured above...

and an additional day to accompany the Webelos, who count the handsome boy pictured here as one of their own.

Yeah, it's warm-ish. And rather like herding cats. So I can't explain why someone like me, who in every way imaginable, is strictly an 'indoor girl', gets such a kick outta it. Maybe due to the the little perks, such as the portable water spritzer Shane muscled away from its actual owner. It's hard to say.

New for the Webelos this year was the Tomahawk throwing, at which Ty acquitted himself quite ably, notwithstanding the unfortunate fact that the tomahawk itself outweighed him by a few pounds. The boys were kind of aggravated that I wouldn't hurl one my own self, but, as I reassured them gently, their parents would much rather they arrived home with toes intact.

I love Day Camp speak:

Permission to enter the range!

Permission granted!

The range is hot!

The range is cold!

It doesn't matter if the boys aren't firing anymore: the range, in late June, is NEVER cold.

It's almost amusing to watch the other adult volunteers who blow a gasket when the boys use the water to cool off and not to drink. Almost. Then it just gets ridiculous.

Saluting.

And thus ends Ty's Cub Day Camp experience. He's on to bigger and better things next year. Hopefully, from his standpoint, more dangerous things. But he'd definitely give this camp a 'Standing O'.

A Team is Where a Boy Can Prove His Courage

Thank you, Mr. Mantle. For loquaciously justifying our decision to drive to hell and gone several times a day, from sport to sport, all year long. A Yankee has crystallized my thoughts precisely. That's SO unlikely.

Part 2 of our 2011 edition of Crawford Boys' Baseball...

Shane played with the Ghosts in the second half of his two-sport season, and, what can I say? He's just a natural. He's such a natural that he spends a good deal of time telling the other kids how they could improve. I can only assume it does wonder for morale.

We're still technically not to keep score during these epic confrontations, so I don't really know how to report on the Ghosts' successes. Shane's a great hitter, a solid runner, and good fielder, though they always play at sunset and trying to snag those balls in the slanting sunlight makes an already tough task nearly impossible.

As long as he's wearing this face, we know it's a good investment of time.

These are the moments when we aren't quite so sure.

Wait for it...

It's always fun to sit next to the opposing team's bench to snap a pic of your child and hear the other players mumble appreciatively to one another: "That kid's a great hitter." I just wanna kiss 'em. If I wouldn't get arrested.

Yup, that's Sockless Shane Crawford, folks, rounding the bases.

The truly great thing about coach-pitch through the city of Castle Rock is that the little men get to rotate through positions - he's a pretty able catcher, as it turns out. If you've ever met him in person, you'd agree that defensive strategy is his specialty.

There's No Crying in Baseball

The 2011 version of the Red Sox began with question marks: several key members gone and lots of new and untested faces...how good will they be? Please don't misunderstand: one of our goals as parents is to have our kids participate in whatever they find interestig. We try not to be psychos about it. But when it's baseball, and your child's love of it almost equals your love of watching him play it, you just want them to do well. To have fun. And it's really only fun when you're winning.

So the Sox started out slowly. The inequity in the league was really startling: a two teams who could wallop all comers, and at least two that were walloped by all comers. We were somewhere in the middle. But they tried. As always, Coach B was a wonder of enthusiasm, encouragement and realism, and were assistant coaches Ernest, Greg and Matt (so cute! AHEM!). By the end of the season, they were on a roll: the last two games of the regular season came as confident wins, and we were off to the playoffs, which were just spectacular.

Game one, against the A's, ,we came out on top, 5-2, although seeded lower. The A's had beaten us earlier in the season, during the fabled "40° Game" (which is interchangeable with every other 40° game we played this spring), and those kinds of wins are always sweet.

Before I go on to Game 2, I'll just invite you to view the joy of watching your firstborn male child snag a ball as first baseman. Go ahead. Take it all in. Noticing, though not commenting on, the gray smudge on the right margin that is, in fact, the chain link fence.

For Game 2 we faced the Pirates, the seriously butt-kicking squad who had gone undefeated all season...at their first meeting, the Pirates handily dealt us a nice 11-4 defeat, and my child in particular was utterly crushed by it. On the tails of our Game 1 win, we were hopeful, but never could have anticipated the magic the Sox would perform: we were toe-to-toe, outpitching and outhitting them, and by 3 innings, we were ahead 3-2. Our number two pitcher had a nightmare game, and after hitting 3 batters in one inning, had to be removed (he hadn't hit a batter all season, and was just destroyed)...before I can blink, out trots my Ty to finish the inning...I was physically sick for him.

My prayer was that he wouldn't implode. What he did was strike out their best two batters and ended that inning like nobody's bidness, stranding two runners on base. They brought him out later to close out that game in the 5th; by that point they had scored two to tie, and although he did all he could, including hitting well and getting on base due to walks, we had a few errors in the field and at home, and they eked out a win 6-4.

As parents, the whole lot of us were just stupefied: not that they had managed to lose, but that they had managed to come so close. We were ecstatic for their effort, and although the boys cried, the coach cried for another reason: he'd never been so proud of a group of boys, ever. I cried for one boy in particular.

They went on to win Game 14-8, pulling another win over an opponent who whipped us solidly earlier in the season, and it was particularly enjoyable to watch their jerk of a coach lose his composure so completely. I can say that after a week has gone by. At the time, I couldn't think of enough words to call him.

So we ended the season in 3rd place. At our end-of-season pizza party at Anthony's, Coach B gave a small speech acknowledging the strengths of each player, and his assessment of Ty was spot on: no one works harder to get better than this kid. No one else takes the game this seriously. Nobody else puts forth the kind of effort he does. For me, the best part of watching Ty pitch is how he went out when he really didn't want to, when he felt like he was the weakest member of the pitching staff, when he could have crumbled and chose to go out and give it everything he could. This is what we want him to remember: you work. You try. It isn't easy or pretty, and it doesn't always work out the way you'd like. But it always works out. One way or another.

Jungle Safari

It was our distinct pleasure to be part of Kid's Dance studio this year, and have our Gracie enjoy the benevolent tutelage of Ms. Joy every Monday morning at 10:30 a.m. The culmination was the Jungle Safari recital held at Castle View High School. And though I followed every procedure in a timely manner, I still managed to procure our reserved tickets just in time to place us in the rear of the theater - I need to take Cutthroat Parent Classes. Maybe they could offer them through the Relief Society?

Even as far back as we were, you've gotta be impressed with my zoom lens.

The tap routine was delivered courtesy of 'Never Smile at a Crocodile', and here Gracie demonstrates 'He's imagning how well you'd fit within his skin.'

Jazz hands!

Zoom lens not so impressive here. The ballet routine had some kind of nondescript ballet-type title, but as a group they were called the Jungle Vines, and we were knocked out by those costumes. Gorgeous in the extreme.

Some kind of complicated hand-holding maneuver they pulled off without a hitch.

Brava, prima ballerina! We loved that the recital fee covered the costume, a DVD of the performance and this rose...as much time and energy as I try to lavish on this crew, I always fail to bring flowers at the end of a performance. So many thanks to Kid's Dance for compensating for my failures. At a reasonable price.

The entourage, clockwise from back: Grandma Norma, Evie, Grandma K, Grandpa, Gracie and Shane (fresh from that morning's swim meet, as was the dancer). Dad and Ty were present, but had to run right out the door once she finished for Ty's afternoon baseball game. I love these moments: always amazed at how much love and support she enjoys, how many resources are at her disposal. Blessed little girl.

Movin' On Up

The milestones are precious and kind of heartbreaking...Eve's done with elementary school. That would be fine if the follow-up weren't so ominous: middle school. I can't gulp enough.

Continuation itself was a complete pleasure: the Thursday BBQ was great, hurricane-force windy fun (I handled 2 1/2 hours worth of 'Minute-To-Win-It' rotations), and the ceremony? Well, if you don't cry every time you hear 'Pomp and Circumstance' you're made of stone. Eve was acknowledged for a great many accomplishments (for a girl who was made to feel like a late bloomer with reading and math, she's come a long way, said her vengeful mother). Witness: Outstanding Student in Technology, Math, Citizenship, and Social Studies, as well as recognition of Outstanding Academic Achievement through the President's Education Awards Program, the latter arriving with a certificate boasting the mass-produced signature of President Obama and whatever toadie he's appointed as U.S. Secretary of Education. My cynicism aside, we're crazy proud of this girl who's pulled amazing grades while holding down a formidable athletic and church schedule. So on she goes. Did I mention the gulping?

Continuation 2011

Perhaps Overly Entertained

May is the most notoriously busy month in the year: if there's a performance, recital, banquet, award ceremony or program of any importance to any one of your children, its guaranteed to be scheduled right on top of another activity of importance to that child or one of his or her siblings. Constant, nonstop. And precious. Certainly precious. Just ridiculous.

In the spring of 2009, we were the giddy ticket holders for U2's 360 tour...then Bono wrecked his back. And was nearly paralyzed for life, apparently. But, now that we're two years older, our favorite Irish boys came looping back through North America, and Matt, Evie and I were among the 70,000+ who thronged Mile High Stadium on the day of the predicted Rapture to witness the fellas who are so consummately professional as to make their arduous task seem effortless...less than a week later, Matt and I headed out to SLC to witness it all over again with our dearest friends, Steve and Jodi...I think we've converted them. Tee-hee.

Shane and Eve rocked their piano recital - if you must know, we're very haphazard about their musical education. We feel it's wildly important, but are we sticklers about practice times? Do we reschedule lessons willy-nilly as it fits or does not fit our Saturday morning schedules? Could we be more dedicated? Yeah, well, whatever.

The best things in the world are produced by Kindergarten kids. Bono would agree. Gracie delighted us with "I Can Sing a Rainbow" and "Wind, Wind, Wind the Thread" and "The Chicken Song/Dance." Heartbreaking.

Cub Scouts continues to go smoothly - because of building scheduling nightmares and our boys' affinity for playing sports whose teams hold practices on Scouting nights, we just tidy up the requirements before the school year ends, just so the entire summer we miss in the Pack doesn't impact their achievements.

And, most importantly, we freakin' survived.