Although I haven't been jumping from planes, it's been a seriously crazy couple of weeks over here.

It all started off with Homecoming (which when you are the mother of the boy is apparently not as big a deal as for the mother of the girl -- I'll let you know when the daughter arrives there...). My son didn't really even think about what he was going to wear to said dance until after the football game on Friday (the dance was on Saturday.) Including the ordering and subsequent pick up of flowers, it took my son an entire 3 hours to prepare. He agreed on the first pair of pants that fit him, got his dress shoes at Payless, used an old dress shirt and tie, showered and VIOLA! He was ready. It's been a really long time since I've gone to a High School dance, but I seem to remember at least 2 days of preparation (if you count one whole day of shopping.) He and his date went with a group of friends, all of whom were driven by the parents of (you guessed it) the daughters. Pretty low maintenance for me.

That Sunday we found out about Lauren and the news sobered us up to say the least. At football practice on Monday my son took a hit that has landed him in physical therapy for the last 2 weeks and a couple of very scary visits to the spinal injury specialist. 2 x-rays and an MRI later, prognosis is good (but he can't get back in the game for another couple of weeks). In a moment of sheer frustration, he jumped on his bike in the midst of all the angst and rode to the place where Lauren was killed. He picked her the prettiest flower he could find and left it there near the purple balloons.

The following weekend we celebrated my daughter's 12th birthday at the ice skating rink (I see the irony, by the way -- I move 3,000 miles to get away from cold weather and my kid chooses ice rinks to spend her happy moments. Go figure.) My son and husband were surrounded by pre-teen girls on ice skates. (I was huddled in the snack bar sipping hot chocolate.) The air was thick with expressions like "No WAY!" "As IF!" and my personal favorite, "whatEVerrr!". They all gathered around to watch the gift opening ceremony. They ooed and aahed accordingly (and squealed with delight on more than one occasion). Apparently, the favorite gift was a tee shirt which says on the front "Don't mess with the Monkey" then on the back "'Cause the Monkey won't play". This is apparently the funniest thing ever seen (if you measure the success by the reaction of the crowd). The happy day culminated in a food fight after one silly giggler finally got the courage to express her affection toward my teenaged son by smashing her cake into his face (ah, puppy love...). The flinging of cake only ended when my son yelled out (brilliantly, I must add...) "DON'T MESS WITH THE MONKEY!" at which (in unison) 15 12 year olds shouted, "'CAUSE THE MONKEY WON'T PLAY!"

I'm not sure we're invited back there.

Well, that's all for now.

But wait -- I almost forgot -- I was tagged by Stephanie in the midst of all this madness and now I have to tag 5 others. Okay, so the rules are as follows:

1.Go into your archives.
2. Find your 23rd post.
3. Post the fifth sentence (or closest to it).
4. Post the text of the sentence in your blog along with these instructions.
5. Tag five other people to do the same thing.

Here's the 5th sentence of my 23rd post (written nearly 2 whole years ago.)

"It seems from the unique population that I have been reading on the blog sites that it is on many hearts to build a new church; A completely new, different, outside of the box church."

Nov 6, 2003.

I tag Chip Nelson (who after jumping from planes should have no trouble with this), Today at the Mission (rhymes with kerouac), Liz Creech, Birgit, and Rachel at Testosterhome.

Peace, everyone. God Bless.