Family Bonding

Well, while we figure out the perfect parenting words, we distracted ourselves with a family celebration. The father in law was having a birthday, and closing in on retirement, has found himself with some extra time on his hands.
Cue Explosions.
This family has always been fond of blowing things up for family celebrations. Sticking tiny firecrackers in various foods, rotten and otherwise, and lighting the fuse. Kapow! Splat.
Well, this one blew all that came before out of the water. Even the Mentos and Soda concoction.
Behold the Potato Rocket.
Woe be the tiny red bliss pototo.
PVC pipe stuffed with one said potato + oh wait! this can be a list:

• wake up
• have time on hands
• get access to tools and random plumbing apparati
  
• pvc pipe
• tamper apparatus
• propane
• full box of spuds
• clearance

And by clearance, I mean, know where your neighbors' houses are so as not to drop rocketing potato down their chimney. Or through their window.

• push potato down PVC pipe with tamper (pipe being whittled just so, so PVC and potato make contact all around
• aim rocket
  
• fill other end of pipe with propane
• quickly! screw on end cap
• push ignition plunger
• wait mere seconds for satisfying phoomp
• watch in awe as potato is rocketed towards the sky, tree or aimed destination
• REPEAT REPEAT REPEAT

why oh why did I not have this whole thing on film?!
It was freakin' hysterical and so so wonderful.
I will definitely post pictures the next time I am in the vicinity of the Spud Rocket.

Update . . .

I appreciate all the ears I bent retelling the Tale. It was traumatic, but we are recovering. I don't think he will leave again, but of course, I am wary of making an absolute statement on that.
The weekend was spent enforcing yard restrictions and not having much patience left to tolerate the least foul mood out of him. There was more yelling and loss of resolve and not good sleep.

He is going to see the councilor at school as I am concerned there are a myriad of frustrations he puts up with all day, only to come home and not know how to talk about it, or let it out constructively. Or maybe he doesn't want to talk to us. This has led to thoughts of a punching bag or similar physical therapy as well as making sure he's got his own space in our house to chill out and be alone when needed. He's really always very well behaved at school which means it's nearly impossible for his teachers (his whole schooling life) to picture him the least bit temperamental.

The Smokin' One and I believe we are good parents. Our kids are a reflection of their great inborn personalities, but also a testament to our raising them. And there's nothing on Earth better than a happy Youngest Cho-Boy. I want that guy around. I can appreciate the sentiment that he trusts in us enough to show us this ugly angry side, but we'd also like some reassurance that we're not completely screwing him up in some way.
We realize we could be more consistent and somehow "helpful" and that's where we might seek some guidance. At the risk of Over Analyzing the whole situation, we will probably call on a Professional. An outside perspective.

Not to eradicate bad moods or displays of temper or anger. Just to make sure he's balanced. Or at least not confused or overwhelmed. I am hoping I am over-thinking all of this. Lots of kids have gotten the bee in their bonnet to take off from home. I just want to make sure. It was too scary to not treat it as a possible wake up call, and I trust SomeOne will tell me to chill out if I need to. Even if they charge by the hour.

Where to begin

I suspect there are very few of you who read my blog that don't know me in Real Life, so this story won't be new to you. I figured I'd first just tell the story, and then have a few more entries thinking over the ramifications.

We've had a few days to "process" and I am not feeling nearly as emotional as last Thursday. Or Friday. Or Saturday. Or Sunday.

Last Thursday Youngest Cho-Boy left the house mad. Not unusual. What was unusual was that when went to call him in, he was no-where. Well, at least not answering, and again, that's not unusual in itself when he's upset. But it was just before 8 and down at the creek, where the leaves filled in, it was growing dark. Taking off, then putting back on my glasses, trying any trick to "see" him. It became obvious that he was gone. Gone. Flashlights came out, shouting, calling, checking the creek up and down, the bamboo forest, the bushes beside the house. Inside the house. Expecting at every turn to find him curled up under a comforter or crouched beside the bushes. After just 15 minutes, I panicked. Lost it. The worst ever thoughts were at the forefront of my brain. Gone. It was dark now. Everywhere. He does not spend time in the dark alone inside or outside. This was a scary first.
I thought I would never ever see him again.
Ever.

After a longer time of pacing and searching in circles, enlisting the neighbors at this point and calling in relatives for reinforcement. Choking out words on the phone as best I could: We've lost ChoBoy, please come with a flashlight.
Then the call to the police after we'd been looking for close to 40 minutes. We didn't want to admit defeat in a way. That call meant he really was lost, gone, we may never see him again. Help. Within minutes, literally, of that call, he was home. The MotherinLaw didn't even have time to get to our house before he showed up in a police car.

Hi Dad, I'd better go say Hi to Mom.

Did I mention he was barefoot? How bout the lady that asked him if he needed help (and thank you Lady for not being Evil) He got into her car and she called the cops for assistance. Seemingly at the same time The S.O. was making our call to them.
So he collapses on the bed, sobbing, with me on top of him, keening for all I was worth.

to-e here we are again

to-e-bster
Originally uploaded by cho girl

Ok, So I tried to pick a title that wouldn't get the f o o t fetish people looking here.
I couldn't resist this picture.
Fresh from the creek, cocky rolled up hems and dirty toenails. He and the neighbor kid hunted down a gigantic crawfish and netted some minnows. Spring anyone?

*update: the crawfish didn't make the night. Not really certain as to the exact cause of it's demise, but be sure there were some tears this morning. Please send internet hugs to a sad guy.

Break

Ha! A sunburn! I got a sunburn. And not while at the beach.
I got the sunburn Friday, hanging out on the stoop with Starrhillgirl, drinking a latte. It was hot. Hot. Not like the beach. The beach? This is what the beach looked like:



It was about 15 degrees cooler than expected and very very cloudy. It didn't stomp romps on the beach or shell collecting, but did exclude dawdling in the sand. The trip served its purpose as a change of scenery, accompanied by several soaks in the motel hot tub and Family Bonding over SpongeBob episodes.

Highlights included the always somber-seeming pelican sightings, one large sea star we threw back into the ocean, a visit from a 2 year old Loggerhead Sea Turtle during a trip to the Aquarium, hunting for and finding shark teeth, and of course, the local cuisine. Not to mention many pairs of saltwater-soaked socks and pants, and the heat cranked up to high in the room.
Please enjoy the following photos.




From Spring Break

Just Sayin'

Granted, it may not look like much -
but there's sand and salty water.

Tree

pear tree.JPG
Originally uploaded by cho girl

Yea!
Is this a pear or a cherry?
I dunno. All I know is that the light changes when Y-CB and I walk under it on our way to and from school. It hushes. Quiets. The blue-sky-light filters through the blossoms and speckles our faces and a few petals waft down to litter the pavement. A lovely way to begin and end the school day.
Down the street, in front of our house, the willow is greening and the beetles and wasps and yellowjackets are feasting on the sap. It is much louder than this tree. I stop and look for the pollinators here, seeing not a one, sadly.
However, a solitary bee is pacing between the window and screening when we arrive home, so we set it free, sending it off to make up the lost time.