Signs for Cheyenne

Years ago on a long distance flight to I-can't-remember-where, the airline showed the movie "Signs".  Not a real bright choice.  Our kids were really little at the time and so we didn't give them headphones to watch the alien movie and hoped they would ignore it altogether.

But from time to time they'd catch glimpses of the screens, how could they not?  It was playing over the dozens of TV monitors surrounding them.  Unfortunately Cheyenne happened to look up at the moment a particularly freaky scene in which an alien briefly but oh-so eerily walks across the background. Cheyenne was horrified and the damage was done--our vacation was ruined before it even started.

Our usually easy-going child was now petrified of the dark, didn't want to sleep by herself, and totally freaked out--all the things that you don't want your kid to be while you're on vacation. To this day Cheyenne still freaks out when we even mention the movie.  Which, sadly, inspires us to mention said movie a lot whenever we're in her presence.

It's not secret that I loved the movie when I saw it later with the volume on.  Even though I was mad they showed it on an airplane full of little kids, it was full of all kinds of quirky and hilarious scenes.  I especially loved the one where the family puts on their homemade tinfoil Alien Mind-Control Protection Hats.  Genus.

So when my brother recently threw an impromptu Solar Eclipse party we knew what had to be done.  You can never be too careful when it comes to stuff happening in space.  The Skillman clan came prepared and well protected from Alien Mind-Control should the eclipse turn out to be an elaborate ruse by real aliens to distract us from some sort of planned invasion:

We all wore our protective head gear all the way to the party.  We got quite a few puzzled looks from passing cars.

Morgan and Chloe on the way to the party

Even Morgan's Nephew Ty donned a hat

And of course it wouldn't be complete without letting Cheyenne know that we were sporting her favorite hats:

But by no means were we the weirdest looking folks there at the geek-fest...

This kid may have had a good view of the eclipse but very little protection from mind control.

We're glad my brother got out his telescope and let us watch the eclipse...

We got to see the sun all but disappear and Cheyenne's old Alien issues re-surface.  That movie so long ago on that airplane flight may have ruined our vacation but we've since gotten years and years of enjoyment out of teasing poor Cheyenne about it.  To this day she's a ziplock kinda gal.  She avoids tinfoil at all costs...and Alien movies.

The Things You Learn in College

Just before Mitchell's 19th birthday, I sent him a care package.  And because this year he's living in an apartment with a kitchen and not a dorm room, I sent him most of the ingredients (sans the eggs and oil) so he could make and enjoy his favorite birthday cake .

This is his favorite cake:

I'm sure you've tried it.  It's a chocolate cake with caramel and condensed milk inside, topped with cool whip and crumbled toffee bars.  Yes, you know the one.

All these years I've never called the cake by its real name.  Instead, I've been calling it "Toffee Cake".

Mitchell was excited to get his birthday box in the mail and he went to work making the cake to share with his roommates.  When we called him on his birthday he thanked me for the package and then he said, "Mom did you know the cake is really called, 'Better than Sex Cake'?"

To which I simply said, "Yes I did."

"Really?" he replied, "you knew?"

"Yep."  Then I added,  "I know, it's a little shocking that I was actually trying to be appropriate for once."

"Yeah," he echoed, "I'm shocked."

So from the sound of things I guess my son is learning a lot in college--namely the real and salacious name of his favorite cake AND the fact that his mother can restrain herself from time to time from impropriety.  I was hoping he was learning more math and science but I guess learning something is better than nothing at all.

Music to His Ears

During the school Spring Break, Connor's new class schedule showed up in the mail.   He was horrified to see that he was now enrolled in a choir class.  Choir! It cannot be overstated how unhinged the kid became at this disturbing news.

In hindsight, this may have explained most of his death-defying stunts over spring break and that perhaps they were most likely attempts to injure himself out of having to take this class.  Perhaps he was hoping to puncture a lung.  He may have figured a stint in the hospital would be much more comfortable than spending the last semester of his 7th-grade career being segregated to sing with the girls in the soprano section as his voice hasn't yet made it's final transformation to a tenor.  Potentially not one of the finer moments for a middle school boy.  So when Connor wasn't endangering his life during spring break with his buddy Sev, he was seriously stressing over the his impending incarceration to a choir class.

The evening before school started back up from Spring Break I found this note on his backpack:

 Here's a closer look:

There are TWO major signs of desperation right there...

First, notice the kid underlined the word "not" FIVE times.  Twice would have been sufficient for someone caught in the middle of such an ominous overture, but five?  Five is just shy of that sinister number six.  Five is the mark of pure desperation.

Second is the fact that he was willing to ask me to write a note.  That doesn't happen around here unless things are really bad.  My kids hardly ever voluntarily submit themselves to bringing a note I've written to their school.

Yes, the kid was showing all the classic signs of despair.

So I wrote him a note.  But I could tell by the serious look on his face that I'd better go easy on him so I wrote something not-too-embarrassing...

 

 But from the severely downtrodden face he came home from school with, the note didn't work. 

Now usually when it comes to school issues, I usually let things run their natural course-- but if you could have seen the look on Connor's face, you'd agree that this little situation seemed to warrant a mother-to-the-rescue moment.  That's because unlike most choir teachers, I DO NOT believe the nefarious notion that inside everyone is a budding singer that's begging to be unleashed.  Have you watched the first rounds of American Idol?  Case closed. Not everyone is cut out to sing.

And so we went to Def-con 2.
A visit to the school.  
Dun, Dun, Dunnnn.


That didn't seem to help either.  I got the run-around.  The councilor wasn't available, but passed on the message that the schedule was going to have to stand.

Connor was beyond devastated.  He even offered to work as an aid to the janitor during that class hour.  But it all fell on deaf ears.  I was getting ready to barge in his office anyway and give him my "If you insist he learns to sing, I'll have to insist you learn develop a sense of humor" speech but Connor saw my inner mother bear begin to rear its ugly head and thought it best to quickly remove me from the building.

But then on the way out of the school, a miracle happened.  The gal at the front desk took pity on poor Connor.  She knew I'd be back, or worse, write another note.  So she decided to take matters into her own hands and covertly motioned for him to come over and with a deviously raised eyebrow and a few clicks of her mouse, Connor's choir class "disappeared" from his official schedule. 

That click of her mouse was music to his ears.  Which is the ONLY kind of music Connor was willing to submit to.

Chair Surfing

I always thought office chairs were...well, for the office.  But apparently when you leave one out in the garage to cart off to Goodwill --a teenager will assume it's a mode of transportation.  Which is perhaps why perhaps I should not have "parked" it in the garage while I was getting up the gumption to go and donate it.

A few days after leaving the thing in the garage I catch a glimpse of Connor's knee ...

[warning: Gross Photo Ahead]

And when I asked him what had happened he just got that grin. It's the one he gets right before I find out he's been playing rooftop football or tarp jumping off tool sheds.  That grin.  I counterpoint another grin back at him, the one that says 'what freak show did you involve yourself in this time, kid??' Then he comes clean.

Turns out he was "Chair Surfing".  I didn't even know you could do that.  But of course Connor did.  And he and his buddy Severin.

(why are we not surprised Sev was involved here?) decided it would be really fun to "surf" the chair down the driveway at high speeds rolling towards the basketball hoop and then use it to make an excellent jump shot.  They figured that by the time they got to the hoop they'd be much higher to the rim thus putting a real jump start into their jump shot.  Turns out all it did was increase the height and speed at which they fell from said rim onto the crusty unyielding pavement.

Apparently from the looks of Connor's knee, the jump shot wasn't so excellent.  He's now a retired chair surfer.  And the chair...it's now safely down at Goodwill.  So for any of you wanna-be chair surfers-- it's down at Goodwill waiting for you...and it's bargain priced!

Dodgy Attire

A word to all visitors to the Skillman home:

If you choose to wear certain items of apparel promoting the neighboring arch rival team of my beloved Anaheim Angels,
we will confiscate or alter said garment before you are allowed to enter our home.

The "D" word is a big no-no around here.  Our home is a haven from such unsavory things.

A Little Merit Badge Q & A

After a few death defying days of Spring Break Shenanigans,
I decided to rein Connor and his buddy Sev back in from their dare-devil stuntfest by forcing them to work on some long neglected, half-finished Merit Badges.  Having to put pencil to paper was definitely not what these boys had in mind for any part of their school holiday, but I insisted because I was getting desperate for a break from their crazed antics and spare their lives with a much needed injury-free day. 

I should have enticed them inside with video games, but I did not. 
I should have persuaded them inside with food, but I did not. 
My plan for a low key afternoon was much more productive.  And this was a very bad idea.

Let's just say boys do not like to do anything that resembles school work if they're on holiday.  And they will definitely let you know...

Check out Connor's brief but direct answer on his Family Life Merit Badge Worksheet...

Ah, Family Life!  You try to save a kid's life and this is what you get!

Back to Blogging

Somehow my blog got a little lot ignored over Spring Break.  Spring Break turned into the entire month of April and soon I  started getting phone calls from a bunch of my loyal readers who called just to say "hi".  Although I could tell most of you were really making sure I hadn't met with some untimely demise or got carted off to jail or something.  Which I haven't by the way--on either accounts.  But thanks for checking!  Truth be told, I just got lazy there for a minute.

Who knew our crazy antics would be missed?!

So I've finally logged back on and I will publish a bunch of posts that I just never got around to publishing.  Commence the Skuttlebutt! 
(I've added a new post below...)
 

Spring Break-Less

A miracle occurred around our house over Spring Break, the miracle being that no one ended up in the ER.  

Just a few hours into day #1, we soon realized that our decision to stay home and take it easy over Spring Break may not have been a wise move.  We quickly discovered this is a dangerous prospect because kids who stay home tend to get bored, and more particularly, the kids around our house like to stave off boredom by entagling themselves in bizarre and dangerous high adventure antics.  Within the first six hours of their vacation they tried their hand at two
never-before-seen sports...

Tarp Jumping off the tool shed:
I think Connor and Severin have been watching base jumping or something on some crazy x-games channel and wanted to give it a try.  Thank goodness they didn't try it off the barn roof and opted for the tool shed instead.  I thought for sure someone was gonna break their arm.  Luckily I don't think the boys ever summoned the courage to actually jump.  Whew!

And Pallet Racing:
Apparently skateboarding around the driveway isn't compelling enough.  The boys found an old pallet and attached a couple of skateboards underneath and then surfed it down the driveway.

 

The boys quickly learned that their erroneous assumption that a croquet stick would be a great makeshift rudder/brake was, quite frankly, beyond inadequate.  As was my decision to stand downhill in a small buffer zone off to the side for a little photo-op of their perilous pallet adventure.  

This was taken just as I realized there was no buffer zone and I had to leap into the gravel to spare my life:

Despite the fact that the croquet stick was useless both for steering and for braking, the cozy barbed-wire fence proved an excellent and fail-proof stop gap.

(uh, look how huge my shadow is! Holy Cow!

it appears as though I could use a little P90x.)

They made several runs until Connor's friend Severin suffered a classic pallet surfing injury.  The poor kid got his hand stuck in the slats which makes it quite difficult to exit the moving vehicle should it suddenly lurch to a stop upon impact with gravel.  After rocking back and forth for several minutes in the fetal position while squeezing his mashed up hand, Sev got up and announced he was officially retiring from their new-found sport.

 
...And to think this was just day ONE!  I was going to have to come up with a plan if these boys were going to survive the rest of the week unscathed.