Campamento de Muchachas

Oh, no, honey. I'm not showing these pix because this was a huge event in Eve's summer. I'm posting these pix because this was a huge event in Linda's sumer - the Stake leaders took complete leave of their senses and asked me to head up to Camp Joseph and handle the crafting duties for this year's edition of Girls' Camp...the irony is so dang thick you could do something with it that you would ordinarily do with thick substances.

This year's theme was Seekers XIII, after the 13th Article of Faith...having thoroughly disdained and/or suffered camp myself as an early teen, and any camping experience thereafter, it was just funny to experience such joy - I'm gonna lay it out there: there were showers and inside toilets and mirrors and electricity and I slept with an actual, not vinyl, but actual roof over my head, cooks on staff to keep us all straight-up spoiled (so fabulous!). I kept the make-up at home, thank you very much, keeping the spirit of the thing.

And who wouldn't, for these representative faces? I'm not a camper, but I've always had the wish to be wherever my kids were, and if I can do Cub day camp, I can do this. Kinda. I mean, the book 'What Not To Do at Girls' Camp' could practically write itself: don't buy new hiking shoes thinking you can 'break them in' on site, don't forget your pillow, don't overbuy, don't underbuy, don't forget your Diet Coke, and on and on.

So here's what I cobbled together: paper bag scrapbooks (I bit the bullet and accepted the inevitable: my days of actual paper-and-adhesive scrapping are ovah. Donate all 400+ sheets of paper to these girls and let them make some memories). Yup. I know. I've got that glow of sainthood. Note to self: next year, if they're brave enough to have me, more glue sticks.

Much fun was had with friendship bracelets, and these bad boys: flip flops and uninflated balloons. Next year, note to self: not so many flippin' balloons. Seriously. The stake currently has enough in surplus to last them at least one or two youth conferences wherein the sole activity could be water balloon-throwing, and nothing else. A two- or three-day conference, at that.

Camp songs are just a kick in the pants: here the Foothills seekers of Peace are bellowing 'Princess Pat', you know, the proud creator of the 'Ring of Bamboo.' A ring of bamboo? Now what is that? It's something made by the Princess Pat. Hello!

Belly was just thrilled to be hooked up with adults who knew how to French braid.

See that laminated card attached to her 'bear whistle'? (I kid you not, every girl had one. Real bears in the vicinity. Thanks to the Parker stake and their disastrous food policy one week prior. No incidents, however). A full-on detailed schedule of everywhere everyone had to be: they were so amazingly organized, with such impressive YCLs...oh, camp has come a long way, baby. Not one know-tying or fire-starting or tent-erecting rotation, it was all testimony and self-esteem and introspection trust-building, what's actually needed in their lives.

Being entertained. The best part of helping with crafts was that I could just be a floater the majority of the day, and watch my princess girl have one of the best weeks of her life, and get excited about the group of kids with which she gets to come of age. Reassuring.

Eve and Delaney, 'Singin' in the Rain'. Knees together, bottoms out, thumbs up, tongues out.

Eve, Desi, and disturbing inflated gloves, following a particularly rigorous bathroom cleansing.

The Seekers of Peace, leaders, YCLs and all. You get all teary-eyed for the love of them...

Isn't She Lovely?

I'm always partial to the '50s and '60s music my sweet daddy-o provided as the soundtrack to my childhood; this Stevie Wonder classic always ran through my head when she was just an infant: Isn't she lovely? Isn't she wonderful?

Matt's mini-me has turned 12. Sigh.

It's nevertheless true for being trite: it hardly seems possible, and yet, as I've mentioned many a time before, I've been there for nearly every second of those 12 years, so, yeah, that feels about right.

What more to say about Evie that hasn't already been said? Responsible, kind, nurturing, outgoing, polite, hard-working, obedient, eager-to-please, accepting, funny, smart, loving, tolerant, reliable in every way. She's babysitting, for children who don't even share her last name. And how lucky are those little tykes?

What an amazing year she's had: 6th grade represented the steepest learning curve she's experienced to date...the craziness of hormones and their resultant mean girls and all that term encompasses: cliques, tattlers, criticizers, bullies, the ugliest of huan nature. What a baffling time for her - she's the queen of 'Can't we all get along? Everyone plays here!'- but the best part was watching her wade through the morass only to find her inner compass intact. Eve's still the fabulous girl she always was, only more so, because she didn't abandon herself on the way to being someone she probably wouldn't have liked all that much.

She's such a delight. In addition to her five-star personality, she pulled down outstanding grades, swam like a mad demon, entered the Young Women program, attended Girls' Camp, received a bedroom make-over, visited the Clinique counter and came away with some non-hooker, age-appropriate make-up, started her year at Castle Rock Middle School and is now blissfully participaing in the teacher-recommendation-required BIONIC (Believe It or Not I Care) program; she'll begin tutoring and other student government responsibilities within the month.

Always a joy, that girl. And always will be - how fun to watch her enter this next phase, how fun to know we're so much a part of it.

Later Summer 2011

Early Summer 2011

More Water Jocks

The homies who earned the right to participate in the Mountain High Swim League Championships.

Grace's first season as a Castle Rock Cruiser - after a winter and spring of lessons, she felt ready, then attempted to swim in the first 'Fun Meet' and had a nervous breakdown. "Why don't you want to swim?" " 'Cause I suck!"

We spent an entire season of practices and meets trying to dispel the notion, and succeeded: once she had her confidence and ability, she was able to drop 16 seconds off of her freestyle, just by swimming straight through without stopping to hold the lane line. For each event in each meet she swam, she earned a "Super Swimmer" ribbon, which is a nice benchmark of progress: if you've taken off any time at all, even hundredths of a second, you're acknowledged. I love this league.

Following his first year of year-round club swimming, Shane was back on Cruisers in fine form: he's now the team record holder for the Boys' 8 and Under Backstroke. He spent the season collecting blue ribbons for every event he swam, qualified for the league championships in five events and chose to swim Back, Fly and 200 IM in that meet. His favorite event was the Boys' 8 and Under Relay, whom he helped propel to the League Championship.

He also earned five All-Star Times: Freestyle, Backstroke, Butterfly, Breast and IM...what a huge sense of accomplishment for him, and well-deserved, after a full year of swimming at least 4 nights a week. That's many hours of Wii-free time, my friends. Big sacrifice.

Crawford tats. All summer long my kiddos sport these Sharpie'd codes on the backs of their wrists. It makes for a stunning presentation in your Sunday Best, I'll tell ya what.

Swimming is a LOT of down time, but if it's one thing the Crawfords are blessed with, it's each other. They've got friends and acquaintances, but as long as they've got each other, they want for little. Their little universe of fun is always amazing to behold, and, if I was at all justified in taking credit, I would.
Can't. But I would.

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.