Fall Means Football...

 Marcus is playing football which is both entertaining and exciting. They take football very seriously out here.  Practices are three times a week for two hours.  There is video of every game and the team watches the footage at their practice and they also watch footage from their upcoming opponent.  Like I said, it's a big deal, and it also makes me laugh at the seriousness of it. The dads love reliving their glory days which is probably why there are about seven coaches for Marcus's team.  His head coach has a reputation for being the toughest but the best.  Marcus starts out each practice running sprints and ends the 2-hour practice running more sprints but it sure gets results.  When Marcus first got his gear on he couldn't hold his 3-point stance while looking up without out toppling over.  It was hilarious!  Now's he a force to be reckoned with.  He plays tight end on the offensive line for the most part and corner back on the defensive line.  He got pretty beat up at the last game with bruises all along the right side of his body but when he sprinted across the field and tackled a guy down just before he reached the end zone it was all worth it.  After the game he told me he got so sick of the same punk trying to get past him every time he literally growled as he threw him to the side.  "That's my boy!"  I said.  "Let out all that aggression on the field."

In case you can't tell, I've learned a lot about this sport in the past few weeks.  For starters, now I know that a tight end is not referring to someone's back side.  I also learned the hard way that there is absolutely no cheering at practices.  I like to watch the last few minutes of Marcus's practices and caught the end of a grueling practice followed by sprints.  The boys were laying on the ground, panting and exhausted.  The coach made them get up and run again, yelling at them to move and catch the guy in front of them.  It was intense.  But Marcus surprised me by pulling ahead of everyone on his team and finishing first so naturally I cheered and yelled out "Way to go, Marcus!"  I swear the field went silent and every coach turned and looked at me while Marcus ducked his head in embarrassment.  I still blush thinking about it.  So there's no crying in baseball and no cheering at football practice, even if your kid is awesome.  Which he is.  {I may be just a tiny bit biased.}

Getting ready to run sprints on a brand new top-of-the-line practice field

The team and all seven coaches {Marcus is in the middle of the back row}

Inhaling dinner before crashing in his bed after his first practice

A little tipsy on his 3-point stance

Marcus {No. 55} getting some one-on-one from a coach at the sideline

Marcus's fan club and yes, Ethan was reading Harry Potter.

Parker keeping us entertained during a game

Randy is sporting the SeaHawks shirts we bought for our Rhode Island friends who are coaching the flag football team again this year.  Back East everyone HATES the SeaHawks so it's hilarious our friends picked them for their team.  Marcus said, "I bet boys cried when they found out they were playing on the SeaHawks."  I think it's so funny and makes me miss our friends.

The Secret is Out

I have been humbled, thanks to my lovely children.  We had our second annual {that means it's a tradition now} Family Night about giving gifts to Christ for Christmas.  We watched this cute little clip {watch here} and then discussed things we could do that would make the Savior happy.  Things like service, saying hi to someone we don't know, reading scriptures daily, praying daily, breaking a bad habit, etc.  Each family member thought about something they could do and wrote it down on a piece of paper, folded it up, and placed it in an envelope.  We put the envelope on the Christmas tree and will open it up on Christmas Eve as part of our special Family Night and let each person tell us what they gave to Jesus and how it made them feel.  Our "gifts" are supposed to be a secret until we open the envelope.
Well my "gift" was to not yell at my kids.  I struggle with this which is sad because my parents never raised their voices at me growing up.  I'd like to say it was because they had a house full of girls which meant it was considerably quieter than my noisy house full of boys but I know that wasn't the case.  They just didn't do it and neither should I.  Three days into my little no-yelling gift, I almost came undone when Ethan was refusing to obey after I'd asked, nagged, and begged him to practice the piano.  I clenched my fists, took a deep breath and calmly said, "I am so upset at you I could scream but I won't.  Now please go practice the piano!"  Ethan and Marcus stopped dead in their tracks and simultaneously shouted, "We know what your gift to Jesus is!  You're trying not to yell at us."  They were right.  And what's worse is they reminded me that it was also my gift to Jesus last year.  I had completely forgotten but obviously I didn't do so well last year because here I am again trying for round two.  But I'm happy to report that it's been six days since I yelled {in anger} at my kids.  Yelling for my kids to come to dinner or whatever doesn't count, in my opinion.  Throw in the fact that Randy is out of town for several days and I'd say my success is slightly miraculous.