The Reniassance Boy

Noah is my "Jack" of all trades. Sometimes digging through dusty boxes can prove rewarding. I came across these little treasures. "My how he has grown!" "Oh how adorable" and "I remember that" course through my head. Each photo has a darling story to accompany my character of a son.

Noah, the Chef

Noah, the Indiana Jones Explorer

Noah, the "Ole" kid

Noah, the Librarian

Noah, the Jeweler

 Noah, the Spy (although many mistake this mask for President Bush)

 Noah, the advertiser for Dr. Pepper Products

 Noah, the "Think Outside of the Box" Kid

Noah, the Dog Trainer

Noah, the "How the West was Won" Guy

Noah, the Farmer, the Milkman

Noah, the "Dr. Seuss the Oh the Places You Will Go" Guy

Noah, the Drag Racer

Noah, the "Field of Dreams" Guy

 Noah, the Bungee Jumper

Noah, the Four Wheeler

 Noah, the Karate Kid

Noah, the Artist

 Noah, the Fisherman

 Noah, Santa's Helper

 Noah, the Diver

 Noah, the Cotton Candy Man

Noah, the Chick Magnet

and my own little Gingerbread Boy that promises to stay with the Little Old Man and the Little Old Woman and though he runs as fast as he can...he always comes back.

What I learned from Noah: He is adorable and a true Reniassance Boy...he can do it all and that time goes even faster than the Gingerbread Boy can run.

How Much is That Doggy in the Window?

Noah can never have enough when it comes to animals. He has a Great Dane and yet, continues his pleas for a fish, then another fish, a hamster, a baby chick, a little yorkie and it goes on and on and on.  After the fish and Da Vinci's poops...I said, "NO. NO. NO."

The other day Rick was listening to his messages. There was a message from a woman that was returning an inquiry for interest in purchasing an adorable yorkie. Rick was bamboozled. He likes the big dogs...so it couldn't be him. I love the little dogs, but cannot add one more thing to my plate no matter how adorable...The call came again only the message was addressed to Noah. Yes, Noah. He had searched the internet for yorkies. Unbeknownst to his parents, he had found one for sale...and just how much was that doggy in the window? Oh just a mere $1300.00.  Noah typed a reply expressing interest and then left his parent's phone numbers!! Granted it took a great deal of courage for Noah to do business with an adult...The business ended with an emphatic "NO!" Besides, dear sweet  Da Vinci would probably mistake the little yorkie for a chew toy.

What I learned from Noah: He is most creative and persistant in getting what he wants and once he has obtained his desire, he is off searching out the next best thing to want.

What I learned from the Yorkies: They are pretty doggone cute!

I'll Pass on the Cookies

One afternoon, Noah came pleading to his mom to bake some cookies. Cookies? Really? I have quite the reputation for cooking or baking( and it is not a good one at that) but the expression on Noah's face could not be denied. There was a period in my life when the food I prepared turned out to be edible. Over the years...I cannot explain what has happened to my patience for at least trying to cook. I could share one disaster after another, like the infamous 7 Up Salad that became the 7 Day Liquid in the fridge. Oh just maybe I could conjure up some cookie magic. We gathered the ingredients. I promised to follow the recipe exactly ( many times I try to modify or I minus an ingredient and make do without.)The cookies looked splendid on the cookie sheet! Success ! Yes success I thought. It wasn't long until the oven timer started beeping. The aroma in the kitchen gave us every indication that the cookies would be delicious. Naturally, we waited for the cookies to cool before diving in for a tasty treat. I took the spatula to lift them from the cookie sheet to the plate. What the heck happened? I was utterly shocked at the outcome. Though the top appeared to be perfect, the underside was burnt a charcoal black and they were rock hard. Noah could see the disappointment in my eyes and so he said, "I'll still eat them." He nearly broke a tooth. I do not know if Noah used them for frisbees or gave them to Da Vinci. I do know that I did not let Rick see them. He loves to share stories of my kind of gourmet cooking and I have given him plenty of material to work with...

Then at the party for Noah's animals, we decided again to make cookies. They didn't taste bad, but they sure did not look appealing. I have been going through some boxes and old photos. I came across a photo of Da Vinci and an accident he had had on the rug. "Big dogs make big poops was the caption!!" (I have a real issue with the potty training of a Great Dane...but that is another story.) As I glanced over the photo, something seemed awfully familiar. Playing catch up on the old blog put the mystery together. My cookies resembled Da Vinci's POOP!!! See for yourself. I was and am thoroughly disgusted. It would be a long time before I would try baking again and I thank my lucky stars I wasn't feeling generous in sharing with my neighbors.

What I learned from Noah: Noah has some wonderful ideas...baking cookies with his mom is not one of them.

What I learned from Da Vinci: Oh Poop!

Take Me Out to the Ball Game

Rick and I had the good fortune of coaching Noah's Baseball Team last spring. At the end of the Season, each member of the team was given a Team Photo, a Trophey, a Certificate and Tickets to a Bees Baseball Game (Team's Sponsers.)The Tickets were placed upon the fridge to serve as a constant reminder, that fun was awaiting.

The Summer Nights flew by in a flash. The Bees Baseball Season was winding down. One late afternoon, Rick came home and announced "Come on Family, we are going to a Bees Baseball Game." Noah had been feeling a bit sick, but it is funny how one can feign wellness when the activity at hand is appealing..."It's time for school," is met with "Oh I am still feeling sick and my head hurts when I sit up." "Let's go to a Baseball Game," is met with "Can I buy one of those foam fingers?"

We proceeded to the Stadium and it was an absolutely perfect night for Baseball. It was warm, but not hot and there was a slight breeze. Noah exchanged the coupons for seats in the stadium. We sat in Section 104. Naturally, Baseball and Hot Dogs are the American Way and so our first stop was to the concession stand. "We'll take two hot dogs, a bucket of popcorn, a large diet coke and a giant pretzel."

Before Noah had finished his hot dog, he spotted the man carrying pink and blue cotton candy. Immediately, he knew he had to have one. "Dad, I want some cotton candy...." "You haven't even finished your hot dog yet."Noah kept eating, all the while keeping his eye on the cotton candy man. Soon, the cotton candy man had left our section and Noah was really put out by it. He grabbed the binoculars and searched the stands. Finally, he spotted the cotton candy man and pleaded that we leave our seats to go after him.

Thinking we could postpone his craving, we did everything we could to distract them. We kept telling Noah that he would return to our section and then he could have some. That did not keep him from asking over and over "Can you still see the cotton candy man? Where did he go? When will he be coming back? Do you think he is almost here?" Now I was beginning to get anxious. The moment I saw cotton candy come up the stairs I said, "We will take one right here." The man held up his hand and said, "Five dollars please." Rick and I, in synchronized gasps, paid the man and sent him on his way to another foolish customer. Five Dollars seemed a little pricey for hot spun sugar. Nonetheless, we had told Noah that he could have some when the man returned.

Finally, life would be good again. Noah had what he wanted and now all of us could watch the game. Noah had all of about four bites, turned to me and said, "I am all done. After all that...and he was done. If I were a mean mother, I would have made him eat every single last little fluff of stickiness, but I am not a mean mother. I had to convince myself that I am a nice mommy and so I ate the whole darn thing by myself and I had the tummy ache to prove it.

Then out of no where--okay--from a child behind Noah, came the splish splash of a coke down Noah's back. I kept my eye turned elsewhere. I really liked the shirt he was wearing and I was worried it would stain--"Be a nice mommy...Be a nice mommy" kept coursing through my brain..."Oh that is okay...he'll be fine..." The parents must have felt bad. Later, the Father of the little girl handed Noah a sack. Inside was a black Bees t-shirt. I thought that was awfully nice of them and felt the sting of guilt for my thoughts earlier.

The Stadium Lights came on as the sun went down. It was a spectacular evening and for a moment, the stresses of our unemployment situation were far from our minds. We were having a forever family kind of moment. It was time to soak it all up...I looked at the bright green field, felt the excitement of the crowd, observed America's favored pastime, viewed the Wasatch Mountains in the background and then the biggest, the brightest, the most beautiful harvest moon came up from behind the
silhouette of Utah's famous Mountains...and if that wasn't enough, the announcer said, "Folks, it's time for the 7th inning stretch." As a crowd we sang the traditional "Take Me Out to the Ball Game..." this is a phrase and a family activity worth repeating...take me out to the ball game.

What I learned from Noah: Cotton Candy IS NOT worth the wait.

What I learned from Baseball: It is still Americas Favored Pastime.

What I learned from me: I'll eat five dollars rather than EAT five dollars.