Life, of late

We celebrated Luke last week as he completed his eighth trip around the Sun.  There was a party at the bowling alley followed by him (us) hosting his first sleepover.  Four eight-year-old boys hopped up on cupcakes running wild through your house for several hours is something everyone should try to avoid at all costs.

This will go down as the year Luke learned to ride a bicycle.  He attended his first (and second) Alabama football games, his first Alabama basketball game.

This was the year he and his sister learned how to swim.  Thinking back to those first couple of lessons, when he was the only one in class who couldn't swim down to the bottom and retrieve rocks in three feet of water, I wasn't sure he was going to make it.  But unlike me, whose first swim lesson was my last, he stuck with it.  I promised myself I wouldn't doubt him again.

He played soccer and flag football for the first time, scoring his first goal and catching his first touchdown.

That's quite a year.

He also started writing a "book," titled "The Frightened Pumpkin."  As I remarked to a good friend a couple of weeks ago, the kid is more me than I am sometimes.

Harper, meanwhile, lost her first tooth this year.  Her current tally stands at four lost -- her two front teeth on the top and bottom.  They've begun to grow back, but oh, was she cute when they were missing. 

She has come so far this year with her reading and math.  Luke's always been the academic achiever.  Popular at school, but sort of unaware of or indifferent to it.  Harper is more of a socialite.  She makes a new friend in five seconds and has confidence (and sass) to burn.  But I have been amazed by how she has flourished academically the past couple of months.

Her latest thing is to play hangman, which she calls "that word game."  We'll alternate attempting to guess each other's words, which can be a little challenging at times with some of her spellings.  She gave me one today that I couldn't figure out, "I love Jaesses."  Apparently that's her spelling for Jesus.  I did rebound nicely when we started doing Disney princesses and managed to solve "Poacahotes."

My poor girl has been sick most of the past two months.  She first had strep, then picked up hand, foot, and mouth (mouth part only), before ending the trilogy this week with walking pneumonia.

Not sure where she's picking up these germs, he says as he wipes fingerprints from the Chromebook screen and (what he hopes is) chocolate from the keyboard.

Hopefully having them home for nine days will get some of the sickness out of the schools.

At our Thanksgiving gathering this evening, she said something about having a great dad.  Then she came over and whispered to me, "The reason I think you're a great dad is because you're bald.  And most dads aren't bald.  That makes you unique. You don't worry about it.  You just always be yourself."

She's such a little encourager.  

Lots to be thankful for.  On Thanksgiving Day and every day.

Wishes for good health, warmth, peace, and happiness to all.