(resting before the next huge hill)

[su_heading size=”18″]What to do with Kids in Basalt[/su_heading]

Yesterday the boys slept until 9:30am and I was in heaven. Nothing like five hours of uninterrupted time to myself, that is of course if I wake up at 4:30am. The price I have to pay for silence is high but well worth it.

Absorbed in my writing I was not aware that my wiley Brevitt had woken up and was already sneaking candy for breakfast while watching TV, two rules broken by 10:00am. By the time that I tore myself away from the computer he was already in full sugar overload, tilting his adorable existence. I watched his wings retract and his horns start smoking as he began to exert his restless energy upon his brothers. The fighting ensued. He resisted my offer of a healthy breakfast to soak up the sugar and definitely did not want to go on a boring bike ride.

My frustration was  reaching the point of no return as I tried to get us ready while cleaning up their messy trail. Fuming, I used my father’s words of wisdom from when I was growing up as a child, “don’t be so unconscious”. Have I spoiled them so badly that they don’t feel the need to lift a finger to help and act death, dumb and blind. I offer advice, “Open those velvety green eyes and really focus when your blindly looking for that huge gallon of milk in the fridge”, this applies to my Wade as well. There is no doubt that I was overly doting in the first precious years of their lives but I was always so careful to teach them how to help and be independent lest I should raise lazy, spoiled good for nothing brats. Where did I go wrong?

Quickly, I packed up a lunch, and shoved them all into the loaded car. “Boot camp begins today”, I shouted and we drove off to start our day. I have decreased my budget tenfold for camps and am preparing myself for a successful Camp Jillypoo. As I drove, I mentally drafted my chart based on a point system. Chores and positive behavior would be rewarded, disrespect or foul language would be penalized. Maybe I should charge my friends for taking their kids for the day.

The bike ride down to the next town was a piece of cake, it was the return that caused major emotional outbursts. My plan was to ride to town, reward with a 711 Slurpee and proceed to ride to Brevitt’s golf lesson.

I realized that once again, I had overestimated my boys capabilities. They were exhausted and didn’t have the energy to make it up the huge hills. Nevertheless we got to the golf lesson with a few minutes to spare. The last leg was the worse and Tucker and Axel had had enough. Brevitt took it upon himself to continue up the hill to his class. By the time I got there he was in tears. He had ridden up and down the hill looking for us to get his collared shirt and was embarrassed and exhausted by his efforts.

Feeling sorry for him that he had such a ding dong for a mother, I told him that he did not have to go to his lesson. I gave them two minutes to ask for anything they wanted as a consequence to my poor planning. They brightened up immediately and I delivered as promised.

We poured water on our heads as the clouds came out to cool us off.  Singing, racing and having a blast on their bikes the rest of the ride home proved to be as fun as I had naively imagined it would be.

Later in the evening when I put Thumper to bed he said that he knew he was going to have a bad day because he was mean in the morning. Karma is a very useful philosophy.

Today we will stow our bikes away and get out the skateboards and scooters. They will cook their own breakfast, pack up their own lunch and load up the bikes themselves. Boy Scouts they will be, with badges of honor, by the time I am done with them in September. At least I will try my best!

Tucker’s photos as he learns photography.