Crazier Than Usual

I did something today that is far from normal for me. The 5k Foam Fest is an adventure run that includes a variety of obstacles involving both mud and, you guessed it, foam. How did I manage to join in such a crazy venture? Peer pressure. :-) My co-leader at Bible Study Fellowship this year, Mindy Davis, was training for a marathon all year, which she ran on Father's Day. Sometime in December after I had made it abundantly clear that I would NOT be joining her for the marathon, Mindy invited me to consider the Foam Fest. 5k. Obstacles. Mud. Foam. Sure. Why not? It got even crazier and more exciting when Jana, our Teaching Leader joined the party about six weeks ago. I'll tell the rest of the story with the pictures.

Mindy, Jana, and Amy ready to rock the 5k Foam Fest 2012

 Our first obstacles were two of these walls.  They were about five feet tall.  The set after these were about fifteen feet tall.  I'm sad there are no pics of me going over the top, but I will tell you that exposure therapy is the way to go.  :-)  Let me explain.  Mindy is a counselor and her two buddies work in the same office.  Their team name was The Freudian Slips.  And they wore slips.  Jana and I were the Tagalongs.

Yep.  I'm thinking about it, watching Jana go for it.  For those who don't know, I'm not really a mud girl, or at least I wasn't before today!

 LOVE the look on my face here.

 Mindy's husband captured this smile as I climbed out of this mud.  Love it.

We conquered the mud!

Jana in the foreground and me in the background after we ROCKED the biggest slip and slide ever.

The Freudian Slips with their Tagalongs.  In the background you can see part of the amazingly huge slip and slide

THE END!  We finished and had a blast.  And we have medals. :-)

I arrived home, ate an entire Steak and Shrimp Bowl from Baja Fresh, took a Hollywood Shower, and fell into bed for a nap.  I earned it.

I am a little sore now, with an ace bandage wrapped around my left ankle because some of the terrain was brutal, but overall, I had a blast.  I might even do it again next year.  But first I'm going to do the Color Run!  Who's with me?!?

Paul Turns Five

My baby is five.  That happened fast.  I've been great with it all day, until just now when I realized he'll be in kindergarten this fall.  Yes, we homeschool.  I know.  What's the big deal?  I'm not sure, but my Mommy heart gets caught in my throat when I think of Baby Paul in kindergarten.  Remember Baby Paul?

I do.  Easiest baby ever.  Well, he's not a baby anymore.

Yesterday we traveled to the Molalla Train Park to celebrate Paul's birthday with friends and family.  I've said it before, and I'll say it again, I love the Molalla Train Park.  My kids don't know that Disneyland exists.  I know.  We are lame.  Regardless, they LOVE this place, it's only an hour from our house, and it's free.  I'm going to keep holding out on them.

My three engineers ready to celebrate the day.  I am so blessed.  Paul and Luke's little hands wrapped around each other makes me so happy.

Goofiest face that Paul makes...maybe.  He's got quite a few.  This was our first train ride of the day.  Paul and Luke are actually sitting on the engine behind the engineer.  Of course, I don't have a picture of that.  Bummer.

I caught these two having a pow wow about something.  I love this picture.

Happy Boy!

Chocolate cupcakes with sprinkles courtesy of my good friend, Liza.  You are a life saver!  Turns out that attending a memorial service 300 miles away the day before your five-year-old's birthday party makes baking the cupcakes difficult.  I love my friends.

And now a few shots of the guests.  :-)

 He's not happy here, but this little man really loved the train park.  He and his precious family are new friends from Roots.

This dude and his MiMi are enjoying the ride thanks to JP's Junk Removal, apparently.  Hilarious.

The big boys.  The first time we brought Luke to the train park, he couldn't see over the fence yet.  Ack.

Maybe the train park's biggest fan.  This guy announced the arrival of every single train.  He's also part of the Roots Fam.

Being a part time children's pastor has HUGE perks, one of which is this little man being able to say my name and truck across the lawn to come see me.  We are happy.  :-)

So the party was sweet.  We arrived home around 4pm and both boys spent some alone time getting some rest.  Paul put together some LEGOs he had received and Luke actually fell asleep.  I went shopping for Paul's birthday gift.  Procrastinator Extraordinaire is my official title, in case you were curious.

Paul emerged from his room this morning ahead of schedule, around 6:30 am, but on your birthday, you are allowed out before 7am.

Paul began his birthday this morning by building his birthday train.  He wanted to have numbers in each of the animals instead of candles.  I said, "Sure!"  I love birthdays!

After the building of the train, Paul spent some time building new lego acquired at yesterday's celebration.  This particular set is a fire vehicle with a trailer.  Good gift, Meeks!  :-)



Birthday breakfast, chosen by the Birthday Boy, was scrambled eggs, cinnamon toast and Special Juice (Super Orange EmergenC).  Not bad.  Then came the gift.

 I love this picture because Paul is reading his card.  My five year old reads.  That sounds obnoxious, but I can't help myself.  There are SO many things my five year old DOESN'T do.  Come when he's called.  Clean his room.  Eat his vegetables.  Let me enjoy his literacy.  ;-)

 Yes, that is pink princess wrapping paper.  I can explain.  I bought this paper this past winter for a little girl's 4th birthday.  It was perfect.  And Paul LOVED it.  He thinks the princess is pretty.  I'm confident he would buy me a big pink dress with a full hoop skirt if he had income.  Let's ALL be thankful he doesn't.

 A LEGO fire station!  WHAT?!?  That rocks.  Yes, it does.  And I'll tell you why.  My two boys spent the next four, count them FOUR, hours assembling this bad boy with very little arguing or bickering...after Paul experienced a time out at the very beginning for claiming that Luke couldn't even watch him put it together.  (See why I brag about his reading?  Character content still a little low.)  Once that issue was solved by Mommy saying that toys that can't be shared must go away, all was peaceful. :-)

Lunch Break!  That's a peanut butter and jelly "birthday cake" with a side of leftover Sunchips and silliest face.

We needed to light this candle because of the utter fail with the train park candle.  Good times.

 Paul with the finished fire house and engines.  Two garage bays, two engines, sleeping quarters, an office and 662 pieces later, this five year old has proven he really does love LEGO.

The front of Paul's masterpiece.  I didn't want to ask him to stop playing for the picture.  He even put all the decals on by himself.  Am I bragging again? Yep.  I know building with LEGO is not a marketable skill, but watching his little hands put these little pieces together, I thought about how much easier handwriting is going to be this fall.  That's some fine motor skill action, people.  :-)


Currently both brothers are spending their rest time in their rooms.  Paul has new Magic Tree House books thanks to Grandma and Grandpa.  Luke has a new Bobbsey Twins book thanks to the $1 price tag at the Used Curriculum Exchange.  It's quiet here.  I love birthdays.

Tribute to Jean Fry

When I try to explain to folks how I knew Jean Fry, it always starts with her son, Paul.  He was an 8th grader in my Language Arts class who then took German from me as a 9th grader.  Jean and I met because of that connection.  We became friends because of our deeper connection through the Lord Jesus Christ.

When I had Paul as a student, I was an inexperienced second-year teacher and then a mildly cocky third-year teacher.  I was largely clueless, but well-intentioned.  I think Jean got that.  I don't remember why, but toward the end of the year there were multiple occasions when Jean and I ended up in long discussions after school.  Maybe Paul was staying after school for something?  In my room?  I seriously have no recollection about Paul, but I remember laughing with Jean (perhaps at Paul's expense) and feeling so encouraged by her.

Keep in mind, the Fry Family was headed to Germany for the next three years with the military.  Jean's world was mildly chaotic at this time, yet here she was giving support and encouragement to a young teacher.  Later Jean would claim that I was somehow helpful to her son during this time, but all I did was sword fight with him and his buddies during class using a really cool inflatable Sock Em Bop Em and an equally cool light saber with sound effects.  (Remember, clueless.)

Yep.  It's blurry, but the evidence is there.  How much German can this student speak?  Probably not much, but he knows how to parry a blow.

Over the next three years Jean and I stayed in touch via email.  We even attended Paul's high school graduation online, in our pajamas. :-)  It was NOT a two-way camera.  And then they were back!

Part of my tribute to Jean has to include the quality of the son that she raised.  Paul came to visit me in my classroom, either his first or second day back in the states.  I was seven months pregnant with Luke and it was the last week of school, perhaps the second to the last day.  It was time to pack up and move on.  I knew I wasn't returning to teaching, so there was six years worth of stuff to pack, toss, or give away.  Erik had already taken the day off work to be there.  Paul showed up and helped.  It took hours.  I know he had other folks to see, and he was on a limited time budget as he was headed to the Air Force Academy soon.  He helped anyway, telling me what to keep and what to toss.  Seriously.  Military folks understand minimalism.  Over and over again Paul would see me sneaking something into a box and he would say, "You don't need that."  "But it's a super bendy, extra long, neon green pencil."  "You don't need that."  I think Erik was SUPER grateful to have Paul's help.  We already had Luke's name picked, but that was the day we decided that a second Bangsund boy would be named for Paul Fry.


I digress.  The next big thing in my friendship with Jean was the birth of our firstborn, Luke.  Remember the clueless young teacher?  Well, now I was an utterly clueless new mom.  Add to that our move to Portland during Luke's first year, and Erik's new job that requires some travel.  I was a bit of a mess.  Enter Jean Fry.  How is it that a woman who now lived 300 miles away was instrumental in my adjustment to a new life?  It's crazy, but Jean was in town a fair amount and our conversations were always fruitful.


At one point I was whining about Erik's travel.  To be fair, Erik had never traveled for work before and I was unaccustomed to his absence.  And Luke was still itty bitty.  Okay, I'll admit now, looking back, that caring for one baby should not have been that difficult.  But I was a whiner. ;-)  Anyway, Jean was visiting.  I was whining.  Jean was listening and being loving.  We were at my in-laws condo for some reason.  And as the two of us walked to the elevator at the end of her visit, she gently turned my attention to those whose spouses were deployed, in harm's way and far away from home for long periods of time.  A wave of gratitude washed over me.  My husband was in Las Vegas for a launch meeting.  He was not in a war zone.  He would be home in three days.  Thanks, Jean.  I needed that.

Jean is asking Luke a question.  Luke, 9 months old, can tell he's supposed to answer, hence the look of consternation.

Jean's visits continued to be at just the right moments.  My one rose bush was out of control and scary.  Jean arrived and taught me how to prune it while gently mocking me for being afraid of a flowering plant.  I was pregnant with our second born, nesting like crazy, and needing a reality check as I sat surrounded by cleaning supplies and cross stitch.  Jean's dry humor about the cross stitch cracked me up then and proved all too true.  "You'll finish it when he starts kindergarten."  Little Paul starts kindergarten this fall.  Guess what might finally get finished?

  Jean holds Baby Paul

As a mom, if I were to give myself a report card, one of the subjects that would have received an F- was potty training.  It took forever.  Jean was a never-ending source of hilarity during this time.  I've heard more stories about her Paul's potty training than I probably should have.  Sorry, dude.  But it kept me laughing HARD during a time when there were lots of not-so-funny things in my world.  And I think Jean would argue with that grade.  I can hear her asking, "Do they both use the toilet by themselves?"  "Yes. Finally."  "Then you pass!"  (She would have added a pun about passing...I miss you, Jean.)

On one occasion, after the birth of Baby Paul, Jean was visiting and I asked her, point blank, "How did you raise such an awesome son?"  (My highest compliments to Stephanie and Lisa, her two daughters.  You are also awesome, but I don't have girls.)  I waited expectantly for Jean's reply.  I can still hear that sweet, soft chuckle as she said, "I pretended to blow my nose in his armpit?  But be ready for the time when he actually does blow his nose in your armpit in return!"

That reply was so Jean.  It was humble.  She didn't think that she had done anything amazing to raise exceptional children.  And it had an underlying message.  Delight in your kids.  Play with them.  Don't take this job too seriously.

Sidenote:  The day I heard about Jean's diagnosis and prognosis, I began a new game with my boys.  No, I didn't start blowing my nose in their armpits...I'm too chicken.  But I begin asking them, "Whose nose is this?" as I point at their nose.  When they answer, "Mine!" I follow it up with a question like, "Are you sure?  Your name's not on it."  Or perhaps, "Really?  I like it.  Can I borrow it?"  It's totally ridiculous and both boys love it.  Thanks, again, Jean.

Steve and Jean came down for Luke's first birthday in August 2006.  Such a blessing.

On Monday when Courtney, Jean's daughter-in-law, texted me with the news of her passing, I was too sad to hide it from my boys.  My little Paul had some questions.  "Will she be alive again?" Theologically sound, BSF trained, Children's Pastor Amy took over and replied, "When Jesus returns, Mrs. Jean will be alive again.  And she gets to wait in heaven with Jesus right now."  I am so grateful for my nearly five year old's questions which prompt me to take Biblical truths and make them clear and comprehensible.  Sometimes I need the five year old version.

There's lots more to say about Jean.  We are headed north today for her Memorial Service.  I'm looking forward to basking in her memory and hearing all the stories.  I might even share a few.

Family Reunion, Fourth of July, and First Lost Tooth

We flew to California for the 2012 Bangsund Family Reunion on Monday.  We have been staying in Pacific Grove, CA on the Monterey Peninsula.  It is pretty nice here.  The weather has been mildly overcast, but no rain and plenty of sun breaks.  The reunion itself has been good with difficult moments.  My guys are simply not the best travelers.  They crave routine.  Travel doesn't often provide it.  We've had to crack down on problem behaviors, so they've had LOTS of time outs.  Not exactly vacation, but it is what it is.  Seeing the family has been good.  Next time I would wish for more time in actual conversations with these folks.  It's good that I phrased it that way, because at one point in this trip I was actually fairly certain that we were all done attending family reunions as long as the boys were still at home.  Can you say "high maintenance children"?  Bleck.  Tonight, our last night, I'm feeling like we might try to attend another reunion...in a year or two...preferably two. Trust me.  Everyone needs a break from the Bangsund Brothers.  In two years, folks will be wondering, "Did those dudes every learn how to behave properly at a family meal?"  Yep.  It's been a LONG three days.

I will highlight two super fun events.  Today we watched a 4th of July parade in downtown Monterey, CA.  It was the best of small town parade hilarity.  The boys really enjoyed the multitude of fire engines and police cars.  We cheered for the Book Mobile.  We laughed at the colorful off script commentary from the announcers.  At one point my sister-in-law and I began to sing along with one of the bands.  They were playing a "hair" band song from the 80's.  The title escapes me.  I'm sad that I forgot my camera for all of this, but I know others took pictures, so at least I'll be able to scrap it later.  So much crazy in one place.

The second fun event features my nearly seven year old son.  On the way to the airport Monday, Luke was complaining about a sore tooth.  I asked him which tooth.  He pointed to his lower right front tooth.  When he touched it I could totally tell that it was loose.  I was excited and apprehensive about how this would shake down.  My oldest child sometimes does not enjoy unexpected events or new experiences.  Losing a tooth falls into both categories, even though we have been talking about it for months now.  Regardless, I knew that this might bring more drama than joy.  During the plane ride, he asked me multiple times to try to pull it for him.  I actually did try, but was unable to accomplish the task.  Those little baby teeth are slippery and tiny!  So, we arrived in California with a very loose tooth and a somewhat anxious six year old boy.

He proceeded to baby that tooth for much of the time we here, refusing to use it and asking for softer food about 50% of the time.  I think the rest of the time he forgot about it.  Tonight after we were back in our little cottage for the night, I was feeding the boys leftover food in an attempt to pack as little home as possible.  Luke was downing Craisins when he suddenly spit a small mouthful onto the floor.

I wasn't actually paying any attention to him at the time, but he suddenly said, "My tooth is on the floor!"

I said, "Really?  Where?" He pointed.  Sure enough!  He had been chewing on Craisins and suddenly bit down on something hard - his tooth!  I'm so glad he didn't swallow it.  Not that I want him to make a practice of spitting his food on to the floor, but it worked out well this time. :-)

Here are just a few pics.  More reunion pics to come once we get home.

 Happiest Six Year Old Ever.

After the losing of the tooth, the boys celebrated with special Daddy Time with graham cracker fishies and granola bars in the hammock here at Andril Fireplace Cottages.   They were hunting for bats.  I don't think they saw any.  I don't think it mattered.