I stood surrounded by teenagers with all variety of rainbow colored hair. I am old. My hair is grey. I was older by 30 years and wondered how I got to be in this line, waiting for the doors to open so that I could watch a concert of a band that I know nothing about. The talk surrounding me was how good the concert was the night before and how it was going to be even better tonight. I started to reminisce about the first concert I ever went to.  It was Poison.  I don't remember really anything about the concert except that it was my first year in college and it was on the college campus. I can't even remember if I went to another concert after that.  I think tickets were around $20. Twenty plus years later, I'm at a concert with my 13 year old daughter and her friends in another country!  Incredible.  I'm kind of a sucker for special events or experiences and I think she knows that.  It started at a bbq.  I was sitting in a camp chair enjoying the rare warm almost hot spring day.  Snippets of conversations from other adults floated on the breeze, interrupted by the laughter of teenage girls and the hoops and hollers of the boys and dads playing ultimate football.  A view of Mount Baker dominated the scene and I was thinking of how grateful I was to be in this place at this time when the teenagers were in my face begging.  Please, please, please.  It would be so cool and it's a once in a life time opportunity and it would be the best thing ever!  As soon as I came up to speed, I realized they were asking me to take them to the concert in another country no less. I needed to think about it. I asked some of the recently graduated college age adults and received mix reviews about it. I talked to the other mother and she had no interest in it whatsoever. The other dad was fine if I took them.  John was on the fence.  "It would be so perfect, and it is cheaper than their concert in Seattle in July." and "This is the only concert I really would want to go to."  and on and on.  Finally I gave in.  On the ride home, I checked for tickets and they were sold out.  Well that's done with.  No problem, I don't really have to make any kind of decision.  However when you are dealing with teens, you have to understand that  just because a concert says it is sold out, it really isn't because there are legitimate second retail sites that will sell your ticket if you can't go.  Stubhub is one of those sites and apparently the closer to the concert, the better the tickets and the less price they go for.  Had I known that I would have waited for the day before or the day of to get the tickets because there were tickets for the front seating section for $20 a ticket instead of $25 a ticket for the balcony.  But we had a great view and the sound was good for a concert.  I didn't like the opening band but the main band was good, if you consider two people a band and one of them on drums.  I was amazed at how much a production the performance actually was.  The lights went black for the beginning of every song.  The crowd cheered.  Then the lead singer would play one chord on the piano or ukelele or the drummer would beat the drum and the crowd cheered.  The lights turned on, and the crowd cheered. Then the crowd proceeded to sing every word of every song with their hands held high. Then after the concert, I was going to buy "band merch" but everything except XXL was sold out, including the red knitted hats which apparently is a band symbol. We waited a little while for the band to come out, which apparently they do but I couldn't wait for two hours and then drive for another hour home and then get up at 6 to get kids out the door for school.  So we left and the band did come out later.  And I have no regrets leaving, we had fun.  A concert every 20+ years, not bad.

I've watched this kid play soccer for 10 years now. He went from a little tyke whose jersey came past his knees to this annoying little speeding danger on the soccer field. I'm not just saying that as a mother. I've watched him pull the ball back just when the defender goes for the ball and zipping around them to go up the field and pass it off.  I've seen the look of frustration on the other kid's face especially when they out-weigh and tower over him.  He does the same move to me, to his dad, brother and sister.  It's always the same, just as you think that he has lost it by having it too long he does that pull back and switches directions.  It is so frustrating.  I've also seen how his weight prevents him from keeping the ball.  If he isn't careful, some kid comes from behind and bowls him over.  They go shoulder to shoulder but when one kid weighs in at 85 pounds dripping wet and the opponent weighs in at 136-160 pounds there isn't really a contest.  He just flies off the ball as to be expected.  This obstacle kept him on the C-team for high school.  He had a wonderful coach who seemed to really care about his players.  I liked that so I am grateful he had that coach.  The JV coach though had approached me earlier in the year and let me know even before tryouts that Job wasn't making JV.  He had the skill, enough to make Rangers and play for the year where as there were kids on the JV team who had only one year of soccer experience but were heavier.  It was the weight which is a great lesson in life but hurts a mom's heart. Job though had no problem.  He likes the weight he is and doesn't seem bothered by it. He even went out and played with a severely sprained wrist for part of the season.

He walked confidently into the gym wearing a pink t-shirt.  He strutted over to his team, they were all girls and wearing pink. It didn't faze him. I wondered when he agreed how he would feel. I knew Lona's response - "NO WAY. HE IS NOT PLAYING WITH US!" The girls passed it around the court and he jumped in like he was a regular player and not a sub.  They played against a much younger team. They were skilled. The girls and Job held their own to a point.  Then came the drama. The pink team was pressing towards the goal, Job had the ball. He looked up and realized that he had a shot. He cocked his foot back, and sent the ball flying towards the goal only to take out the smallest girl on the other team. It smacked her full in the face and down she went backwards. I was appalled.  "JOB, APOLOGIZE! SEE IF SHE'S OK!" I screamed from the sidelines. My boy child just rocketed a shot into a girl's face. I didn't see her reaction but the parents pulled me back to my seat and let me know that as the girl was getting up, she mouthed a few choice four letter words towards this much older boy that took her out. From then on for the rest of the game it was war between her and Job, at least in her mind. He came up against her a couple more times and she was playing for keeps. After wards he let me know that she signed up for the league and so she either needs to duck or deal with it.  I still think that there is a sense of being a gentlemen on the court.  The grey team ended up winning, so I'm sure that was a consolation for her.  Until they meet again.

It was warm that day, extremely warm, like summer time. I was hunched over the vegetable bed pulling weeds and turning over the soil getting it ready to plant. They were outside talking and scheming, busy running in and out of the house, gathering their supplies. Tent stakes, and straps, pillows and sleeping bags. She had a system and was getting it set up. He was looking for misplaced stuff, asking, "Do you know where..." I was busy.
 Then I looked over and they had stacked their hammocks so that they both could use Lona's rainfly and they were chatting together. The flowers in the cherry trees were creating a beautiful canopy over them and I realized that they had the right idea. Just to enjoy the unusual beautiful warm day during Spring Break. Their plan was to sleep outside that night but they watched Predator and by midnight they were inside asleep in their own beds.

Our family has finally all gone to Artist Point via snowshoes.  Isaac went with his friend Taylor once and again once with Ben.  Then John and I took Job and Lona up there. It seems as though these kids make every outing an adventure. We can't just snowshoe we have to jump off overhangs, over and over again filming it as we go.  We can't go the easy way we have to challenge ourselves and go straight up. We can't stop part way but go all the way before we eat.  Sometimes I marvel at what we do, not because what we do is great.  We are not extreme people or have insanely athletic kids, but we are just enjoying our adventure of life as a family. I am so glad to be able to share in these adventures with them.  I did miss Isaac who was at home plugging away at school work, getting ready for his finals.

The cooing of doves

So many spring evenings in the Pacific Northwest are gray drizzly affairs and then we get these spring nights that pop like a firecracker with color and promises of summer evenings. We like many others gather at Boulevard Park to stroll unhurried along the waterfront looking out at the beauty this place has to offer. I marvel at the gulls gliding over the pier hoping for bread thrown to them. I laugh at the dog whose sole focus is to retrieve his "bird" from the fridged water hardly noticing anything else. I gaze in wonder at the buds forming on the walnut tree with the moon peaking through the branches or the buds from the wild roses along the path. I am overwhelmed by the colors of the sunset and the breathtaking view of this part of the world. I slowly sip my coffee sharing it with John as we talk, dream, and laugh. May I never become complacent in seeing the beauty here.