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| Anaheim Shoot-out on the Ice Pee-Wee A Champions! |
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| Max and his Flying Penguins coach, Volker |
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| Victory Cup |
Tuesday, May 31, 2011
Sweet!
Monday, May 30, 2011
A Day to Remember
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| {First game yesterday vs. LAHC '99} |
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| {Starting line-up on the Penguins: Alex, Keaton, Cody, Lindros, Max} |
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| {An easy win 15-2} |
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| {relaxing in the pool} |
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| {In between games} |
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| {Game # 4} |
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| {Vs. Jr. Kings} |
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| Cute Markus |
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| {Victory} |
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| {Lindros was even smiling after this game - and I have never seen him smile!} |
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| {The whole Penguins Crew} |
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| {Max enjoying a little pooltime} |
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| {some of the team went swimming after the fourth game while others played basketball in the sport court} |
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| {Markus chose swimming of course!} |
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| {Coach strategies for the championship game tomorrow} |
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| {Volker and his wife Michelle, and son Sidney on her lap, enjoying the barbecue salmon that Matt's dad made for the team} |
Sunday, May 29, 2011
So. Cal
Sitting by the pool waiting for Max's next hockey game. His Flying Penguins team has won the first three games they've played in at the tournament in Anaheim this weekend. The sun is shining and there is a breeze blowing the palm trees. I'll post pics later. ;)
Saturday, May 28, 2011
Game 2
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| {Max playing starting line defense} |
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| Game #2 was vs. OCHC '99 (Orange County Hockey Club) |
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| {It was a little bit closer game} |
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| {With a lot of checking going on} |
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| {Penguins still pulled it out} |
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| {final 6-1} |
Friday, May 27, 2011
First Game
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| {Volker is always handing out Flying Penguins gear to everyone on the team and all the siblings, parents, etc.} |
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| {The Team Photo} |
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| {Markus had a turn to wear the Penguin suit today} |
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| {Go Flying Penguins!} |
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| {The first game was vs. The Devils} |
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| {Which the Penguins won 7-0!} |
Thursday, May 26, 2011
Day and Night
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| Today |
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| Tonight |
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| {Hotel room} |
Wednesday, May 25, 2011
Love Letter to My Son Max
Three days ago I was in Primary and awarded my middle child—my buddy—his Faith in God Award and as he stood at the front of the room, crying, as the other Primary children sang, “Jesus wants me for a Sunbeam”, Max's favorite Primary song, I couldn't help but cry too.
He just turned twelve yesterday. In fact, this fall he starts junior high and my oldest child—my long-haired boy who just yesterday, I swear, was starting kindergarten—starts his junior year in high school. How did I get here?
This is a letter written for Max's "VIP" week at school. He was not amused by the reference to his early eating habits. "You embarrassed me," he said when he got home from school on the day Mrs. L-G read it aloud to the class. "It was also too long--eight minutes!" he added.
"Yeah, well, I'm supposed to embarrass you," I said. "I'm your mother. That's my job."
Personally, I think I deserve a raise.
Dear Max,
You didn't know this but, this week I have spent a lot of time looking at baby pictures of you. I have the stack of pictures here with me as I write this, so I’ll tell you what I’m looking at. There’s a picture of you pointing a finger, a grin visible beneath your curly hair. There’s you in a ghost costume, strapped into the stroller, clutching the hat you’ve just pulled off your head and laughing. When I look closer, I see that you hold one sock you’ve just torn off your foot, which you are holding up for the camera to see. You are smiling, and with your mouth open, mid-laugh like that, I can see two tiny teeth on the bottom and just a hint of two on top. And your hair! It’s so blond and fine and silky that it’s almost white, like the strands of a spent dandy lion.
But my favorite photographs are of you in the high chair. In one picture you’re wearing a yellow terry cloth sleeper suit, and of course you’re smiling, this time without a finger in your mouth. You’ve got one fist resting on the tray and the other hidden from view. Apparently you’ve had a good meal, because you sit slouched in one corner, as if you’ve just devoured Thanksgiving dinner and couldn’t possibly eat anything more. The tray is smeared with what looks like ranch dressing. Something shiny and sticky-looking covers your cheeks and forehead, and your sleeper suit. And what’s that in your hair? You guessed it. Ranch.
I must have wised up after awhile, because in the next picture, you’re not wearing a shirt. Spaghetti sauce covers your little chest, your cheeks, your hand, a sippy cup, and some toys. This time your hand is spread wide and covered in sauce. I’m pretty sure I caught you painting the tray with it. Of course you’re smiling, as if to say, “Don’t you just love the feel of spaghetti sauce on your skin?” Quite often I had to bathe you after meals, so thoroughly covered in food you were. But I laugh about that now, because you obviously enjoyed the process of eating as much as you enjoyed the meal itself. You didn’t just eat a meal; you liked to dress yourself in it, too.
This way you had of doing things on your own terms I dubbed “Maxi-style”, and it started even before you were born. When I was pregnant with you, you didn’t just give my belly a karate kick now and then, like most kids. You did three-sixties, cartwheels, Ollies, and back flips. Once in church, a friend turned around from her seat in front of us just in time to see your acrobatics. She looked at me, saw your limbs doing the watoosie inside my belly, and gasped. I just giggled and shrugged. I knew that you would be an active kid--and a fun kid, too.
And I was right. You have this amazing ability to do anything that involves physical activity, be it roller blading, snowboarding, biking, skateboarding, soccer, hockey or baseball. Your body just knows what to do. Usually there’s a jump, a leap, or a trick of some sort involved, too. Something distinctly Maxi-style.
You even read Maxi-style. When you were in kindergarten, we’d sit on the couch and read those little paper books that were stapled together in the middle, usually stories involving a rat, a mat, and a snake named Sis. I’d turn to the first page. “See Sis sit,” I’d say. Out of the corner of my eye I could see you start to wiggle. By the time we’d reached the middle of the book, you’d be balanced on your head, looking at the book upside down. By the last page, you’d have somersaulted off the seat cushion onto the floor. And before I could say, “The end,” you’d scamper off to other adventures, usually involving a bike or a ball.
But Maxi-style doesn’t only mean you paint modern pictures with spaghetti fingers, or that you style your hair with ranch dressing, or that you can hold your own with the big kids at the skate park. It also means that you know how to show kindness with small acts of service. Whenever it snows, I can count on you to be out before the rest of us, shovel in hand, clearing our driveway and the neighbor’s as well. I will always remember the winter we were hit with such a big snowstorm that school was canceled for the morning. Do you know how you spent your mini-vacation? As I recall, you cleared four driveways and some sidewalks too, whistling a happy tune as you did so.
There’s something else about you, too. You’re smart. Often when I haven’t seen you for a long time, I’ll find you in your room, reading a thick book, the dog sleeping on your lap. You’ve also consistently brought home good grades, excelling in math as well as recess. And, to top it all off, you’re a hard worker. When you were CEO of a pretend restaurant for a school project and the grill went down, you covered all the crises that popped up —which is to say, Maxi-style.
You have the makings of a great leader: charisma, intelligence and good looks. I won’t be surprised if you end up running for president someday. And I’ll tell you this: you’ve got my vote for sure.
Love,
Mom
He just turned twelve yesterday. In fact, this fall he starts junior high and my oldest child—my long-haired boy who just yesterday, I swear, was starting kindergarten—starts his junior year in high school. How did I get here?
This is a letter written for Max's "VIP" week at school. He was not amused by the reference to his early eating habits. "You embarrassed me," he said when he got home from school on the day Mrs. L-G read it aloud to the class. "It was also too long--eight minutes!" he added.
"Yeah, well, I'm supposed to embarrass you," I said. "I'm your mother. That's my job."
Personally, I think I deserve a raise.
Dear Max,
You didn't know this but, this week I have spent a lot of time looking at baby pictures of you. I have the stack of pictures here with me as I write this, so I’ll tell you what I’m looking at. There’s a picture of you pointing a finger, a grin visible beneath your curly hair. There’s you in a ghost costume, strapped into the stroller, clutching the hat you’ve just pulled off your head and laughing. When I look closer, I see that you hold one sock you’ve just torn off your foot, which you are holding up for the camera to see. You are smiling, and with your mouth open, mid-laugh like that, I can see two tiny teeth on the bottom and just a hint of two on top. And your hair! It’s so blond and fine and silky that it’s almost white, like the strands of a spent dandy lion.
But my favorite photographs are of you in the high chair. In one picture you’re wearing a yellow terry cloth sleeper suit, and of course you’re smiling, this time without a finger in your mouth. You’ve got one fist resting on the tray and the other hidden from view. Apparently you’ve had a good meal, because you sit slouched in one corner, as if you’ve just devoured Thanksgiving dinner and couldn’t possibly eat anything more. The tray is smeared with what looks like ranch dressing. Something shiny and sticky-looking covers your cheeks and forehead, and your sleeper suit. And what’s that in your hair? You guessed it. Ranch.
I must have wised up after awhile, because in the next picture, you’re not wearing a shirt. Spaghetti sauce covers your little chest, your cheeks, your hand, a sippy cup, and some toys. This time your hand is spread wide and covered in sauce. I’m pretty sure I caught you painting the tray with it. Of course you’re smiling, as if to say, “Don’t you just love the feel of spaghetti sauce on your skin?” Quite often I had to bathe you after meals, so thoroughly covered in food you were. But I laugh about that now, because you obviously enjoyed the process of eating as much as you enjoyed the meal itself. You didn’t just eat a meal; you liked to dress yourself in it, too.
This way you had of doing things on your own terms I dubbed “Maxi-style”, and it started even before you were born. When I was pregnant with you, you didn’t just give my belly a karate kick now and then, like most kids. You did three-sixties, cartwheels, Ollies, and back flips. Once in church, a friend turned around from her seat in front of us just in time to see your acrobatics. She looked at me, saw your limbs doing the watoosie inside my belly, and gasped. I just giggled and shrugged. I knew that you would be an active kid--and a fun kid, too.
And I was right. You have this amazing ability to do anything that involves physical activity, be it roller blading, snowboarding, biking, skateboarding, soccer, hockey or baseball. Your body just knows what to do. Usually there’s a jump, a leap, or a trick of some sort involved, too. Something distinctly Maxi-style.
You even read Maxi-style. When you were in kindergarten, we’d sit on the couch and read those little paper books that were stapled together in the middle, usually stories involving a rat, a mat, and a snake named Sis. I’d turn to the first page. “See Sis sit,” I’d say. Out of the corner of my eye I could see you start to wiggle. By the time we’d reached the middle of the book, you’d be balanced on your head, looking at the book upside down. By the last page, you’d have somersaulted off the seat cushion onto the floor. And before I could say, “The end,” you’d scamper off to other adventures, usually involving a bike or a ball.
But Maxi-style doesn’t only mean you paint modern pictures with spaghetti fingers, or that you style your hair with ranch dressing, or that you can hold your own with the big kids at the skate park. It also means that you know how to show kindness with small acts of service. Whenever it snows, I can count on you to be out before the rest of us, shovel in hand, clearing our driveway and the neighbor’s as well. I will always remember the winter we were hit with such a big snowstorm that school was canceled for the morning. Do you know how you spent your mini-vacation? As I recall, you cleared four driveways and some sidewalks too, whistling a happy tune as you did so.
There’s something else about you, too. You’re smart. Often when I haven’t seen you for a long time, I’ll find you in your room, reading a thick book, the dog sleeping on your lap. You’ve also consistently brought home good grades, excelling in math as well as recess. And, to top it all off, you’re a hard worker. When you were CEO of a pretend restaurant for a school project and the grill went down, you covered all the crises that popped up —which is to say, Maxi-style.
You have the makings of a great leader: charisma, intelligence and good looks. I won’t be surprised if you end up running for president someday. And I’ll tell you this: you’ve got my vote for sure.
Love,
Mom
Tuesday, May 24, 2011
Max is Twelve
Twelve. Max is twelve.
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| {Breakfast in Bed Tradition} |
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| {Followed by school treats for his class} |
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| {Music Concert at school} |
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| {Max played three different songs for the concert} |
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| {Followed by a baseball game tonight} |
The Sox lost to the Cards 4-3. Max wanted to come try out his new skates that he got for his birthday so he came to the rink with me after his game while I was teaching lessons. He and Markus stayed and skated with one of my students, Che, until 10:00. The public session ended at 9:00 but the people that usually rent the ice had cancelled for tonight, so the boys took advantage of it and played broom ball on their own private ice and had a ball.
Monday, May 23, 2011
Team Connor
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| Team Connor |
The Intermountain Healing Hearts 5K on Saturday had a huge turn out for Connor. He is such a darling little boy and had a great time being pushed along the race route in his stroller. Sheri and her daughter Nadalynn ran with me while Tanner and his girlfriend, Emily, pushed Connor and Josslyn in the double jogger. Todd and Shane took the lead, while Lara and Ashley ran and Monet walked with Whitney so she wouldn't be alone. All the proceeds go towards heart research to help Connor and other babies like him born with CHD.
Sunday, May 22, 2011
Action
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| Max's Penguin's team saw some action last night |
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| against the Union team |
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| Max played pretty well considering he was up until 1 am and had two baseball games right before his hockey game |
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| Penguins won 5-2 |
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| As I pulled in the driveway fireworks started going off ... |
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| Fun way to end a busy day! |
Saturday, May 21, 2011
Baseball anyone?
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| Markus had two games today |
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| First one was a loss to T-Ville 15-6 |
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| Second one - a win vs. Tooele 7-6 |
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| Max also had two baseball games today in Riverton |
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| They won both games |
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| Vs. Riverton 11-3 Vs. Crown Colony 15-4 |
They have one more weekend of Accelerated double headers. I think.
