"Mom, if I step on Nels' face right now, are you going to yell at me?"

"Wha?"

 

 

a trip to COSIJustincosi

Justin is a happy camper to go to COSI for his birthday.U2boys

My boys are having a U2 moment. Except that there are two of them, instead of four.

U2

See? That's really the only difference.

TikiJustin

"Unga-bunga! Behold, the power of my stanky breath! It's been known to knock a fly off a manure truck." Who else has breath that can curl toenails?

vintagenelson

Duh...

boysandrope

My strong men are lifting that car in the background. It's all in the legs.

hicksrope

Look at the steely focus. The ripped muscles. The third hand.

justinball

"Hey, Jus, I looked around to see if I could trade you for another kid, even-steven, but I guess you're stuck with us. Sucks to be you."

momandjus

"Aw, Jus, you're welcome to stay with us as long as you want...or until you get taller than me, which should be around Tuesday."

justinpain

Justin is testing his nerves against a pain meter (really). Then a toddler ambled up and totally ruled the machine. Either the toddler drinks acid in his sippy cup or Justin has the pain tolerence of a butterfly. It's a toss up.

justinbuggy

Then, in COSI, we went back in time and took the opportunity for gratuitous photo ops.

justinanddad

My boys.

momanddad

Rare footage of Hicks and me together. It's like capturing the Loch Ness monster and Sasquatch sitting in a UFO.

justinandpal

Justin found a friend at COSI. Despite being a one-dimensional player, the mouse turned out to be quite an accomplished ball-handler.

waterfall

The last part of our tour was a splashtastic romp in the Ocean. Very fun...and chlorine-y.

Overall, COSI is HIGHLY recommended. I believe I could have spent three entire days there and still not have seen/read everything. It is all very well laid out and fun for everyone.

Insert your comment

Author Name(required):

Author Web Site:

Author email address(required):

Comment(required):

Please Introduce Secure Code:

 

What happens when two boys are bored...

 

The thought process is brilliant. Creative and well-thought out. Not to mention that it kept them occupied for quite a while. Mama like.

Insert your comment

Author Name(required):

Author Web Site:

Author email address(required):

Comment(required):

Please Introduce Secure Code:

 

WHAT MAKES JUSTIN SO SPECIAL?

Last year, Justin came home from school with a homework assignment for me. The teacher has requested that parents write a letter to their child, expressing their feelings on what makes the child so special. The letter will be included in a notebook given to the child at the end of the school year. Pretty cool, huh? So, in an attempt to collect my thoughts, I typed out a rough draft, which is more of a commentary on what a nice time this is, in our lives as much as Justin’s...

Justin isn’t special. He’s just a normal eight year-old boy living a normal eight year-old life. He runs, reads, whines, laughs and smells like a normal boy. His hair has a mind of its own, which is typical. Sunny freckles dot his nose and cheeks, just like they’re supposed to. His clothes and his shoes shrink at an alarming rate; right on schedule. He never wants to go to bed on time and he hates to get up in the morning, which is standard for a kid his age. Pillows and blankets are never where they’re supposed to be, because they comply with an eight year-old’s building code for forts. The foundation of his diet consists of macaroni and cheese, hot dogs and applesauce; the nurtitionally-questionable staples of all third graders. Does he giggle at bodily functions and is he magnetically attracted to all things gross? Absolutely, as he should. He still goes to bed with his arms wrapped around his favorite stuffed animal, which he’ll sadly outgrow in the next couple of years. He dreams of growing up in his father’s footsteps, which is not only a quaint aspiration, but a very real possibility. He has all the logic and the manipulative skills necessary to be an eight year-old: “Why do I have to earn money for a toy, when I can go shake down Grampy?” He makes mistakes and gets frustrated and cries when he’s sad, just like a boy his age should. He loves to roam the neighborhood, trolling for potential play dates. He still warmly hugs his mother when her arms are inviting him. He faithfully recites the anthem which is ingrained in every eight year-old: “I’m bored.” He has lots of questions about God and Heaven and Hell; and takes the answers to heart. He makes up silly dances and tells corny jokes, fitting for someone his age. His best friend is his partner-in-crime; and if his friend isn’t readily available, the dog is an acceptable substitute. His favorite subjects in school are recess and lunch, and questions the necessity of everything else. He knows the value of a good paper airplane. Fruit snacks are the universal currency of third-graders, as he is well aware. He’s forgotten how hard it was to learn to ride a bike and takes it for granted, naturally. In his eight year-old universe, he can successfully negotiate the intricacies of a complicated video game, but is completely baffled when it comes to putting dirty clothes in the hamper. Similarly, he possesses Rain Man-like abilities when it comes to his Legos...there can be a hundred pieces scattered on the table, but if any are disturbed, he knows. He always tells the truth, because he tried the alternative once...and has never forgotten the consequences. He wears his emotions on his sleeves, because he’s not old enough to put them anywhere else. He knows when he’s a good egg, because his mother tells him so. And when he’s not, he knows that too, because his mother tells him so. He knows that his parents love him, but has no concept of the unconditional depth of that love; which is okay because that’s normal for a boy his age. He’s healthy and happy and safe and that’s all that matters.

Justin is just a normal eight year-old boy living a normal eight year-old life. That, in and of itself, is pretty darn speial.

...so as you can see, I failed my assignment miserably. I'll have to go back and rewrite this. In a manner that an eight year-old can understand.

Insert your comment

Author Name(required):

Author Web Site:

Author email address(required):

Comment(required):

Please Introduce Secure Code: