the diver

Dawson had initially planned to swim this year without adding diving to his schedule. I was relieved because it meant one less night of running. Scott was publicly supportive, but privately saddened because he finds diving to be such an elegant sport and, to be perfectly frank, Dawson is good at it.

He's a natural. The coach tells him how to move his body and he does it. For me, his completely uncoordinated mother, I find it incredible to watch. And Scott is absolutely right: there is a simple elegance to diving that Dawson's streamlined, muscular body seems to be made for.

After two days of watching the practice, Dawson came to me and said he had changed his mind about diving and would it be okay if he spoke with the coach about joining the team. We're already at the pool, so practice isn't too big a deal. And the meets are only one night a week - we can manage that. The season ends with counties on the last Saturday of July - seems workable. But mostly, it was the gleam in his eye as he was asking for my blessing. The light that said: I'm ready to be challenged.

Yesterday, Dawson's coach came to find us at the pool. It's the Sunday of a holiday weekend. Everyone is off and relaxing, lounging in the water, laughing at the cannonballs, and eating third helpings of the ice-cream sundaes we were assembling as our evening dinner. Yet here was the coach.

"Dawson really needs to go to diving camp this winter. He's good. Really good. And more importantly, he's coachable. He could really make something of this. You need to consider taking him to West Chester."

I glanced over at Scott and saw the same didn't see this coming look on his face that I was certain was on my own. The coach went on to talk about the other boy who goes through the winter, that we could probably carpool, that there might be scholarship possibilities, even just once a week would work at first . . .

We spent our Fourth of July doing all the things we love to do but struggle to find the time during the summer. Breakfast out at Shady Maple with a crowd of friends, watching LOTR in the living room with the furniture pushed out of the way and every pillow in the house brought down to create the ultimate viewing/napping environment, reading those I-can't-bear-to-put-it-down-and-now-I-don't-have-to books. But in the back of my mind all day was the conversation with the coach.

I find myself wondering how to balance the burgeoning talent of the one with the needs of the nine. How would we make this work?

I have no answers yet. I know that there will be many discussions between Scott and I accompanied by much prayer. And in the end, I know that whatever decision is made, it will be a good one. But for now, even as I'm reeling from the pronouncement, I am feeling incredibly proud.

My boy. The diver.

insanity, or what you call july

Our July is always a little busier than normal life. And yes, I'm aware that what we refer to as normal life most people already find busy.

But this July has become downright insane. We are still managing to accomplish everything on the to-do list (except blogging, which has fallen quite obviously by the wayside.) In fact, the month has become so crazy that I dusted off my trusty planner and am back to toting it around. I knew we were in trouble when I was trying to schedule Isabelle's next orthodontist appointment and finally said: "You just pick a time and I'll just make it work."

Our typical week day begins at 6 am: putting on swim gear, eating breakfast, packing pool bags, and piano practice for both Tucker & Isabelle.

8:30 am: Drop Shelby, Dawson, & Isabelle at the pool for their swim practice.

8:45-9:45 am: back home for Tucker's school

10:00 am: back to the pool. Dawson and Tucker begin dive practice (ends at 11:30)

10:15-10:45 am: Abigail's swim lessons; Shelby works as a swim instructor sub (Mon - Thur)

11 - 11:30 am: Keats and Aidan's swim lessons; Shelby works as a swim instructor sub (Mon - Thur)

11:45 am: head for home. Eat lunch, Elyas takes a nap and begin homeschooling/piano practice.

Monday afternoon: pick up Isabelle at 2ish (from her babysitting job), pack a picnic dinner, swim meet warm-ups at 4:45 pm, meet begins at 6

Tuesday afternoon: school until 3ish, take Scott to work at 2:30, pack a picnic dinner, dive meet warm-ups at 4, meet begins at 5

Wednesday morning: pick Scott up at 7:30 am; afternoon: piano lessons for Shelby, Dawson, Isabelle & Tucker from 1:30 - 4 pm (take school with them.) Pick up Tucker at 2:15 and return home and complete school for Tucker, Keats, Aidan, & Abigail. Family dinner. Scott watches the video of Tuesday's dive meet with Tucker and Dawson before he takes all the boys to soccer camp from 7 - 8 pm while we have a girls night here at home.

Both Thursday and Friday afternoons are reserved for catching up on home responsibilities and either resting or relaxing pool time. After school work, of course. And if we have decided to go to the pool, then that means an extra trip of running Scott to work so we have the van and remembering to pick him up the next morning. (I've only ever forgotten once.)

We also have various little rutherfords at Camp Manatawny for a week at a time from now until mid-August, with Shelby also staffing as a lifeguard for two weeks. Which means most of our Saturdays are spent attending closing ceremonies in the morning and returning to drop off a new camper in the afternoon.

And, in our infinite belief in our abilities, we have also scheduled a fellowship gathering on Sunday afternoon at our pool, lasting from 4 - 8. All of the children have shared that this weekly activity is their favorite, as they are surrounded by friends and family while swimming, which is absolutely their favorite thing in the world.

I try to keep up the mantra that I can do anything for 6 weeks. We are still managing to accomplish our summer school schedule of math, grammar, typing, and literature quite easily. Piano has remained a priority and the kids will be prepared for their October recital despite the craziness of summer. Friendships are being renewed and revitalized as we spend time out and about.

But down-time is at a premium right now. Every moment is scheduled, with very little wiggle room for blow-out diapers or missing shoes. My daily to-do planning sheets, which I almost never use, are about to be re-ordered to get us through the end of July.

And yet, I am watching our older children truly blossom as they are becoming very aware of the precious aspects of time. They are learning to prioritize, to organize, and to really use every moment to its fullest. In our life of flexible scheduling, having a given period of highly scheduled time is good for us and good for our self-discipline. It isn't a life-style I would ever want to adopt permanently, but it does have it's benefits.

And so, as we continue with our July, our updates may not be as frequent as we would like. But never fear. Mid-August will be here in all it's slowing-down glory before you know it.

blu-ray, finally

We have assiduously avoided Blu-Ray. The Rutherford library of movies being quite extensive, the idea of purchasing a player that would make us feel like we needed to upgrade the films as well was quite a distasteful notion.

It was the marketing which began to shift us away from our firmly held position. No, I'm not talking about the astounding resolution or the dramatically increased number of pixels. I'm talking about the genius who finally figured the only way to get some of us out of our entrenched positions was to hit us where it hurt: below-the-film-geek-belt.

Harry Potter and the Deathly Hallows Part One was released a few months ago, creating an enormous problem for us. The bonus features, the behind the scenes & how we made stuff, was only available on Blu Ray. And our family adores these features. I mean really, really adores them. We love to watch how films are made, listen to the commentaries as the film is rolling, and will watch the Lord of the Rings Appendicies with the same fervor as the movie.  To be denied access to this holiest of holies was just downright horrid. And it worked. We bought the Blu Ray version.

However, we contentedly remained committed to not purchase the player until the last credit card was paid off. We watched the regular DVD version of the film and looked forward to the time we would be able to watch the bonus features. It was a pretty good compromise.

Until we realized that the second half of the final Harry Potter film was due to be released within weeks.

The kids began to wheedle, to beg, and to cajole. Every reason within the realm of reasons was given as to why we should just give in and buy the player we had selected after our research. Scott and I remained steadfast in front of the kids. But behind the scenes, I was just as bad as they were. Scott remained stedfast. Drat.

However, one should never underestimate the combined might of will eight children can possess. I was preparing to sort allowance into their envelopes one day when all of the kids approached.

"That's a lot of money you've got there."

I looked up at their faces and should have recognized the scheming when I saw it.

"That's almost enough money to buy the Blu-Ray player."

I reminded them that dad said we weren't spending the money.

"What if we pay for all of it. We all have some spending money."

I would still have to drive to the store, 20 miles round trip, to actually buy it. That's a lot of gas expense these days.

"What if we pay for the gas?"

Well, that sounded reasonable. But I still had some chores left to do.

"What if we do the rest of the morning chores and practice our piano while you go to the store?"

There's got to be a catch.

"You take all the littles with you, so we can work focused. And then, we'll watch the littles so you and Dawson can hook up the player before daddy wakes up."

Well, what would you have done?? Of course I took their money, loaded up the littles, walked into Sam's Club to purchase the Sony Blu-Ray, replaced the gas, and came home. Dawson and I had it installed pretty quickly and set up the Harry Potter Bonus Features disc to play on a loop while waiting for Scott to come down.

Scott responded to the explanation with a fairly typical reaction: "You've warped the kid's minds, you know."

Why yes, yes I do.

creepy dude

We keep our collection of Shakespeare's Graphic Novels in the downstairs bathroom. It seemed a good place to store books that I really want the kids frequently exposed to since they enter the room regularly and quickly become a captive audience.

Yesterday, Aidan came out of the bathroom and began describing to Dawson the book he had been reading while doing his business.

"There is this guy and he is stabbing this other guy with a big knife. There is a whole lot of blood. I don't know what book it was, but it looks pretty good to me."

Dawson replied, "That's a Shakespeare play, Buddy. It's called Macbeth and a king is murdered by a jealous man who wants to become king. The guilt of the murder slowly drive he and his wife crazy, though."

Aidan, who was nodding along said, "That Shakespeare is a real creepy dude. I like him."

summer standard

Our typical summer day.

the normal pile o' towels 

watermelon junkies 

one of the twins (I truly don't know whom) with cousin Sadie

Papaw on baby pool duty

again - no idea if this is Keats or Aidan
(They adore their matching swim gear. I find it quite fiendish.)

Elyas and Nana enjoying the first watermelon of the season

finished with watermelon, Elyas moved onto grass

Dawson before his manly dives off the board

Tucker, enjoying the splashes several of the dads were making off the board during adult swim.

Elyas  enjoying his freedom to move around the pool this year

under control

We find our evening prayers are much easier to accomplish in the boys' room. This way we can place Elyas into his bed and his crib tent is zipped nice and tight, eliminating the need for someone (or several someones) to pray with their eyes wide open while Elyas performs his usual acrobatic, mountain climbing antics. He "holds hands" by placing his palm to the mesh of the crib tent on the inside while another Rutherford hand does the same on the outside.

Tonight, though, Elyas wanted nothing to do with prayers. As I was coaching him along with "Thank you for daddy. Thank you for mommy . . ." his usual parroting fell by the wayside and he simply cried: "More milk! More milk! More milk . . ." while pathetically rolling around in his bed.

Sensing this was a loosing battle on my end, I waved the white flag by simply skipping to the end and saying: "Thank you most of all for Jesus."

Elyas immediately ceased his whining and sweetly said: "Amen."

And so tonight I have learned that self-control for the almost-two-year-old is not quite the missing link he would have us believe.

Sleep tight, Sir Elyas. We're on to you now.

man up

All of the Rutherford Boys (excluding Elyas, much to his dismay) are giving soccer a try this fall. Scott and I signed them up and ordered their uniforms, then assumed we were done until the fall.

Wrong-o.

We began to get emails in which quickly helped us realize that there is a lot more to childhood sports than when we were kids. Please upload your child's photo to their player page. Please prepare for Family Fun Fundraiser on May 2. Please order your spirit gear by June 1. Please have your child ready for coach's evaluations beginning May 21. Don't forget their cleats & shin guards! Please upload your child's birth certificate on their player page. Please . .  .

ARRRGGGGHHHHHHHH!

So, after a brief adjustment/acceptance period (because there was only time for a brief one) we dove in. And, it hasn't been all that bad. I find I am actually feeling more like the suburban American mom than I imagined I ever could. It's pretty weird.

Tucker had his coach's evals yesterday. He had never played soccer and I wasn't sure how it would go. But, Tucker is as Tucker does. He asked directions and then gave it his all. When the coaches told him to kick differently, he did. When they said to get into the action, he did. It was actually pretty fun to watch him learning.

Then he kicked a goal from about 20 feet away. Or I should say he tried to kick a goal. He bashed the ball and it made a very un-impressive plink-plink-plink before resting about five feet away. Tucker's shoulders shlumped defeatedly and the coach called out, "You wanna try again?"

Tuck nodded and then I saw him rolling his shoulders and I could barely make out his personal pep-talk: "Gotta' man up. Gotta' man-up."

And then, The Run. WHAM! That ball never saw his foot coming and it sailed right into the top of the goal before rolling down the back side of the net. Tucker's arms shot over his head and a jubilant "YES!" rang out over the field.

Atta' boy.