terrible twister


I think everyone around here is feeling the crunch of the end of summer. In different ways, of course. The kids seem to be gearing up for school, all on their own, in spite of the fact that I’m not quite ready. Our usual summer activities have lost some of their shininess and I’m forced to admit that if we didn’t have nine months of school, we really wouldn’t appreciate our three months of summer quite like we should.

But it hasn’t stopped me from scrambling around like a madman trying to wring out every ounce of fun from the last few days, even when my intuition is shoving me in the arm and the kids might as well be wearing neon signs that say “I’ve had ENOUGH”. I’m apprehensive and nervous for a school year gobbling on my heels and determined to take BOTH my kiddos for nine hours a day.

Monday I attacked the remnants of the summer list. It seemed like the best way to forget my anxiety for a little while. I’d like to pat myself on the back for crossing almost everything off, but in all honesty there has been some fudging. For instance, Caleb insisted on crossing off “build an awesome fort” because my ‘o’ looked deceptively like an ‘a’ and “awesome fart” has been done. There was an incident at the beach involving a whoopee cushion. In a car full of guys the definition of ‘crass’ is redefined.

Also on the list was “play Twister” because it seemed like a foolproof way to entertain a seven and five-year-old on a rainy afternoon. The boys had never played before and on that particular day were surprisingly uninterested in having anything to do with family game time. In fact, Caleb and I had to coax them out of their room with promises of fun times and “Look! This game has a spinner!” Pretty sure that was mistake #1.

What followed was a whole lot of whining and complaining that ended with Caleb and I pretzeled alone on the plastic Twister sheet while the boys conducted an epic argument over whose turn it was to spin. You know how hard it is to break up two kids when the blood is rushing to your upside down head while you struggle to keep an overextended arm on the blue spot. At some point I met Caleb’s eyes and we mutually agreed to call it quits.

Caleb: “Can we at least cross this off the list?”

Me: “And never speak of it again.”


Redeeming the Twister from hell incident:


Rummikub is much more our style.



Block towers are more fun on wood floors.. and table legs.



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A trip to the splash pad that got of to a rough start but gave me some of my favorite pictures of the summer.



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Successful bowling trip. And we only sent the ball down the wrong lane ONCE.

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