Helicopter Tendencies

First, let me apologize to my blog for being so neglectful. I really did intend on keeping up with it after summer was through. And here we are in December and my last post was in September. Oops. Well, moving on!

With the harried beginning of the school year that includes three birthdays, three kids in sports, Halloween, a fun map project, and Thanksgiving, I am tired. The dust has settled and now we are home most evenings and weekends, and I have been finding myself feeling a little annoyed at that hurried kind of lifestyle and searching nostalgically for some simplicity. The other day synchronicity took over, and I happened upon a fabulous article from Time Magazine, entitled Helicopter Parents: The Growing Backlash Against Overparenting. This article playfully, but poignantly, looks at the out of control trend of parents to overparent. Hiring tutors for a five year old, buying hypo-allergenic socks, and baby kneepads are a few of the outrageous sounding practices that are running rampant in today's society. The article put it best-- Parenting has become a form of product development. This caused me to think about my own helicopter tendencies...

We live at the end of our elementary school's walking zone-- about .3 miles. At the beginning of the year, I required Pacey to wait at the crosswalk for me to pick him up. It just wasn't safe, I insisted, to allow an almost 8 year old walk home by himself. I must have been thinking in line with many of the local parents because the area around the crosswalk is quite the happening spot with mini-vans and SUVs lined up, ready to pick up their cargo and drive safely home. After a week of his pleading, I gave in and allowed him to walk, but I would drive by everyday and ask him if he wanted a ride. I think he acquiesced twice. Once when it was raining and once when he was coming down with the flu. Otherwise, I got the half wave, half blow off as he exercised a small bit of autonomy that to an 8 year old is huge. Yet, I continued to drive by, thinking that I was doing a great thing by checking up on him and making sure he didn't feel forced to walk all that way home. Until last week that is, when I realized I was a helicopter parent, a mild one, but a helicopter parent nonetheless.

The great thing about the Internet is where it can take you. I know that may sound cheesy, friends, but really, think about it. When is the last time you started to read one article, saw a link to another, read that one, saw another link to a related video, watched that, saw a link to another article, (need I continue?)... It's just amazing! So while I was reading the Time article, I happened upon the blog of who I found was once labeled "the worst mom in America." All because she allowed her nine year old to ride the subway in New York City alone. She was on morning shows and took severe lashings from the American public (mostly helicopter parents, I would guess) for her reckless methods of raising her children. This prompted her to start the Free-Range Kids blog, which led to a book, which has really created a movement in getting back to the roots of parenting our children. Her premise is not reckless; she maintains that safety is always important, but she brings to light the craziness of our generation in trying to lock down our children's every movement. Yes, there are awful things that happen everyday, but to live in fear is to not live at all. And to instill that constant fear in our children is a great disservice.

I looked up from my computer, almost in tears. The thought of letting them play in the front yard alone without feeling like a total slacker was so liberating! The idea of not feeling required to script all of their activities and to actually allow them time to just be kids, be free was even more liberating. I almost felt like burning my bra-- but I figured that I should probably keep myself in control since I was reading at my desk at work.

I started to see all of the irony in the things that I have always felt I had to do to be a good parent. The "neighborhood" soccer league that required a 15-20 minute drive through bad traffic three times a week was hardly a neighborhood program, now was it? Does that mean I will take the fun of playing soccer away from Pacey? No, but I will be calling the people in charge and request a change of coach/team to a place that is at least close to our neighborhood. Will I not put Gage in swim lessons like he asked? Well, no, I won't, but I decided how much more fun it would be if we all just went swimming at the rec after school once a week? Everything doesn't have to be a structured, two-times-a-week-right-in-the-middle-of-dinner activity, now does it? No, I am seeing now that it doesn't, and that doesn't make it wrong, it doesn't make me a bad mom, and it doesn't mean my kids will be less successful for not having needed a Google calendar to manage their schedules and five activities each at the ages of 6 and 8.

I want to have the time to take them to the rec for fun, free swimming. I want to take them to the Farmers' Market to get fresh fruit. And I want them to be able to come home from school and play. With their toys, with each other, with me, with the neighborhood kids. Because that is what kids should be doing. And not just in the summer when we have time off. I stopped driving the long way around to the house, so I could make sure Pacey didn't need a ride. Instead, I meet him at home because those ten minutes of freedom and autonomy are teaching him to be responsible and independent.

So even though I don't usually make New Year's Resolutions, this year, I am making a New Lifestyle Resolution-- to live more simply, less fearfully, and more fully. The boys deserve an old-fashioned childhood that is full of freedom to explore and experience their lives-- not under the guise of schedules and continuously organized activities.

http://www.flickr.com/photos/sharynmorrow/ / CC BY-NC-ND 2.0

It happened... Twice.

Several years ago a really good friend of mine gave me a book called Let Me Hold You Longer by Karen Kingsbury. This was back when the boy-os were smallish-- say 3 and 1, and it made me cry each time I read it. Trust me, if you haven't had a good cry lately, check it out. No kidding, this one will invoke some quality emotional connecting. The gist of the book is about all of the lasts that we inevitably face as mothers-- the last time they slip their sticky hands into ours, the last time the run and give us a big kiss, the last time... well, you see where this is going, don't you?

Yes, I think it happened to me. I experienced a last time, but the thing with these last times is you don't realize it when it's happening. We remember all of the firsts, dutifully enter them into the baby book, but the lasts are a bit more poignant, a bit more monumental, and they usually pass us by, until one day we look up and our baby who used to call applesauce p-sa, p-sa is driving off to college. Okay, so it's not that bad. Yet. But so far, I think second grade is equally heartwrenching.

Today was the first day of school and a little more important than usual because both boy-os were in new schools. So I was slightly overprotective and hovering with Pacey when I dropped him off at morning care in the elementary school gym today. I knew he wouldn't know anyone, and I had the classic mom nightmares of teasing, loneliness, and tears. I started nagging (which are really just loving reminders) full force: "Do you remember your room number? 14, right? And where are you meeting me after school? At the crosswalk, right? You're not going to start walking home today. Remember?" I noticed I got a little sideways glance and a mumbled, "I know!" but I brushed it off because I was actually starting to annoy myself with that line of questioning. Hesitantly, I started to walk to the door and tried to give him a hug, and it happened. He gave me that half-squeeze, shoulder nudge hug. But I blew it off and chalked it up to his nervousness. Because surely, this sweet thing who would give me hugs when I would come and have lunch with him just last year would never give me a shoulder nudge hug today.

Except it gets worse. When I picked him up around the crosswalk today (okay, I admit-- I couldn't just wait at the crosswalk I had walk down the sidewalk towards the school), I put my arm around him as we walked and he pushed it off (gently, but still). Still! It was then, when we walked in the rain to the car, that it really hit me. It happened. Twice. Sometime last year, at lunch, I got the last elementary school PDA from my oldest boy-o. Somewhere I swear I hear a sad version of Taps sounding at such a loss.

I used to cry at the idea of all of those last times back when I first received my copy of Let Me Hold You Longer. Now as the reality of those last times is beginning to take shape, I cry for what has begun to fade away. I know there are still many lasts still to come, but I think this first last time was one for the baby books.

Compromise and Craziness

I was skimming through my RSS feeds the other day, and I found this article about divorce, marriage, and health. It reports on the findings of a study that attempts to correlate poor health with divorce and/or unhappy marriages. While it doesn't seem that much a surprise to me-- duh, when you are miserable or going through stress, your health suffers? Shocking!-- it got me thinking about all of the phases in my life, especially after just battling (and winning, which is unusual) the boy-os dad for a school change for them and even more so since it was four years ago this month that the boys and I made new lives for ourselves in the little yellow house by the beach. (Picture above, Spring 2006.)

I have always tried to look at this as a journey with no regrets, and when I look at who I was ten years ago when I was first married to the boy-os father, and I compare it to who I am now, I see that the differences are amazing. Sometimes I wonder if I would ever exchange the growth and learning for a lack of the struggle and strife that were a part of the last four years? While I like to laugh about how many times we went back and forth from being together to being separated, it makes me sad, too. Because I know that was out of a fierce desire to create something out of nothing, no matter the cost. It wasn't until I honestly felt like I was dying, until the day I found myself walking in the cold rain at the beach alone that I had to make the choice for me and the boys.

And now, four years later, I know without question it was the best decision I ever made. Even though while I was a single mom, I was often frustrated by the state of my life. By not living the dream of a family I always wanted. By being alone and doing it on my own. But all of that was needed, was an integral part in all of our journeys to become who we are today. And because of it, I know I value my life in the Rock House so much more than I could have otherwise.

I have had to learn to share, and while there are days that I wish their dad would "disappear," I know we are lucky to have him want to be involved so much. The boys will benefit from that in some way, even though his modes and methods may be questionable sometimes. It forces me to compromise, to communicate, and to understand. Whether we can do that between the two of us or in mediation, is another story. Sometimes I rage and hate that I have to share, that I can't just call the shots and that I can't have my kids all the time. It frustrates me that they are only here half of the time. That on Tuesdays and Thursdays and every other weekend, their beds are empty and the house is quiet. That I have had to learn to not feel guilty because I sometimes enjoy myself and the quiet house. That I had to go to mediation to make a change that is really in the boys' best interest. But in quieter moments, I can accept that this is the way life is and be grateful for all that we are learning because of it. And it is in these quiet moments, that I can understand Shirley Maclaine's line from the movie Rumor Has It: "If the marriage implodes, divorce. You haven't lived till you've been through one of those."

Pacey Perfect

I awoke this morning, listening to the rain, and trying not to think about the very limited time I have left with the boy-os this summer, but finding that rather difficult. I am lucky to have an entire month off, but it just seems too short, and with a surgery coming next week, I really only have a few days left to spend the whole day with them. After that, it is back to work and all too soon, back to school for them. Back to the grind and craziness that stalls and quietly lingers on the side of the road during the summer months.

As I was thinking about this, I heard the soft padding of little boy feet sleepily track down the hardwood hallway, and peeked a Pacey face at the doorway. I pulled back the covers and invited him in for some morning snuggles, something he and I have always done. The sleepy little Linus always looks the same, save for some variations in pajama and height. The only constant variable: balled up in his skinny arms is his blue blanket, which he long ago dubbed "Kee-kee." He and Kee-kee tumble into bed and neither of us say anything for quite some time. He curls in, and for a brief moment, I believe it is several years ago, when he was much smaller, and would tote his beloved, much younger blanket, and reach to be lifted into bed, smelling faintly of a morning diaper, his round head of curly baby hair, slightly sweaty. Even then, we would always spend a few quiet moments before either of us would break the silence and the magic of the early morning.

I revel in this vivid and strong memory, almost smelling the diaper and feeling the curly, sweaty hair brush my face when Pacey shifts, and I am transported back to the present and see the boy he has become. His arms and legs lanky, his face narrowed, and his head no longer filled with soft, baby boy curls. I pull him into a tight bear hug, knowing that one day, perhaps soon, he will be too big for this quiet time in the morning with his mommy. The snuggles will be fewer and farther between, and while I will have these memories, I will always miss the Pacey Perfect mornings.

Simplicity

Fabulous find #49291-- the local aquarium has a 35 minute Creek Cruise for $7 a person departing hourly starting at noon. I stumbled upon this hidden treasure while sitting at the doctor's office, and snapped a picture of the smallish ad in the free parenting magazine with my iPhone. I was certain with a ridiculous level of giddiness and pride that no one else was privy to such a great find. I failed to realize:

1. It's tourist season, and
   
2. It's a free parenting magazine in a doctor's office. Label this post "Duh."
   

Feeling like I held a sacred revelation, I waited the perfect amount of time to disclose my find to the boy-os-- enough to allow them to anticipate the adventure, but not so much that they nagged me about it unendingly. We eagerly approached the ticket counter at 1:30, only to find they only had tickets left for the 5:00 cruise. This would have been nice to know when I called at noon and asked if the cruises typically sold out and if we got there 30 minutes before would that be good and was assured it was all good. Luckily, we were there with a friend who has a membership, so we quickly changed plans to spend some time exploring the museum, and I was proud of the boy-os, who had gotten pretty excited about a 35 minute cruise around the marsh, when they were just as excited to be around all of the fish on the other side of the glass.

In an attempt to completely tire them out, we decided to do the nature walk to the other building, which takes 10 minutes, one way. We found a room on the way to the nature walk, where there were stuffed animals, a chalkboard wall, a magnetic fishing game, hopscotch, books, and a mini-aquarium. It was pretty basic by design, not grandly decorated or overly emphatic in an attempt to be a cool room at the aquarium. In short, it was simple. Understated.

Simply perfect for a 5 year old, so Gage, of course, was fascinated by this room. Those of us who know Gage are not surprised. He is often in what we call "parallel world," a space he enters that has him playing happily on his own alongside, not with, other kids or adults. Don't mistake this for the idea that he isn't social. Oh no. He will talk to anyone, even the guy in the car next to us when we both had our windows down. "Yes, he's friendly," I often find myself saying. And let's not forget about the time he attached himself to another soccer mom's leg during a game when he was two. I felt the need to profusely proclaim, "Really, we love him and show him affection, I swear!" He is just so comfortable in his own skin, and totally into the really simple things-- like this room.

I sat back and watched him find puppets and stuffed animals to engage in a great battle, tote his favorite "squib" (see Gagey-isms post for translation) to the book area, complete several games of "ho-scosh," and wrangle several buckets of magnetic fish. I felt like I was looking at one of those Family Circus cartoons that show the tracks little Billy takes all over the yard. He came over to me every so often to show me a puppet or talk about what he saw, but mostly he was completely absorbed in this free play-- even on our second visit after the nature walk and otters and snakes, which he was also excited about.

Watching this moment of pure abandon on the part of my 5 year old, struck me quite powerfully. I often feel like we inundate them-- with TV, with toys, with activities, with stuff. It took a simple room with simple toys to completely enthrall and engage a young mind that is already full of wonder. I know these were new items and new is always better than the same old toys you play with every day, but it did not take new and flashy toys to catch his eye. It took new and simple-- basic playthings that allowed him to make the rules and create his own "new parallel world."

Before we go getting way too serious (this post is not meant to invoke tears), let me just say I don't want this to end for him. I want to jump into his parallel world-- invited, of course, and live like he does... Minus running into the glass window like he did at the gym today. That would probably be something I could live without.

Post-Vacation Burn Out

So after a great, great almost week in Key West, the husband and I finally came home sweet home following a spontaneous (I'm maintaining the positivity I had throughout the whole experience), spur of the moment detour in Cincinnati. And who knew that the Cincinnati Airport Holiday Inn is really in Kentucky? Erlanger, Kentucky to be exact. So, not only did we get to extend our honeymoon one day longer, I also get to check Kentucky off on my list of states to visit. Hey, it may have only been the Holiday Inn, but my tired, Key West feet were on Kentuckian soil, so it counts.

We were greeted in the airport by the two crazy boy-os holding handmade signs. A fabulous surprise to say the least. Not much beats the sight of this:

We had some good moments after that unbeatable high with a puppet/costume character show, a few rounds of slapjack, and some computer games. But their excitement at being home and my pure exhaustion from a week of 100+ temps and walking around and relaxing (which is exhausting) was not a good mix. So we'll start again tomorrow.

What I've been thinking about today is this post-vacation burn out that is hitting pretty quickly. Does anyone else get a little over-idealistic when they are on vacation? I don't mean looking at the idyllic scenery and dreaming about a time when this is a daily vista. No, I'm talking about getting a superhero syndrome from O magazine. Or Real Simple magazine. I blame them both.

I have never really looked at Oprah's magazine before, but it was pretty inspiring. Either that or there is some sort of mind-altering drug infused in the paper. I left Key West truly believing that I was going to start eating organic, shop at the farmer's market and buy seasonal fruits and veggies year round and plan my meals accordingly, eliminate processed food from all of our diets completely, add to our recycling plan to include Capri Sun pouches and involve Pacey by starting a blog for him to track how many we save, so he can become a total 21st century kid who does good and then blogs about it (do I need to continue?). It seemed like such a good plan. Until.

Until I got home today and realized that, though the intent was good, the dream may not unfold quite as seamlessly. In my O magazine, Key West haze I saw all of this falling into place nicely and neatly, and probably in the next two weeks I have off before I return to work.

Um, ya, not so much I realized as I tried to help Pacey put together the ship in the bottle kit we found, which seemed like the perfect gift at the time. This must have been another instance of the O magazine, Key West superhero syndrome. If you find yourself picking up a miniature ship in a bottle kit, thinking it's a good idea for your seven-year-old, please, save yourself and put it down. I will take one for the team there, thanks.

So as the night wore on, I did a pretty good job of staying the fab mom whom I know is under all the sunblock residue, making sure I reminded the boy-os that Mommy is a little tired, so let's try to behave the best way we know how. (It worked a little-- once I was almost reduced to tears by the ship in the bottle, and I did get a little stressed by Pacey's jumping and bounding). And I realized, quite humbly, that those are some lofty goals to which to aspire, and the post-vacation burn out is at least teaching me to pace myself. I am going to add some of that to my 101 in 1001, (mine coming soon to a blog near you) and hope that within the next two years, I see those happen from time to time. And I'll still keep my O magazine and Real Simple close by for inspiration.

I know I can be slow...

but really, how could I have not figured this out before? Why has it taken seven, yes count them, seven years to grasp this whole parenting, being a mother thing? Yes, I know that I have been pretty successful at keeping them safe, not allowing them to jump from their windows, etc. I have also been pretty successful at the nurturing them and making them feel loved thing, too. But why oh why, did it take this long to figure out how not to pull out my hair each day and how not to dread any extended time at home with them by myself? I feel so empowered by this new skill I have gained-- like I can conquer the mom world with a single blow of play-doh and coloring books. Right now, both boy-os are sitting quietly and intently coloring; Gage in his trademark monochromatic style (color of choice today is blue) and Pacey making Littlefoot a rainbow of colors, down to his summer-ready toenail polish. And all of this easily completed in a few steps:

1. Gathering and organizing all of the craft and art supplies in one place. And if they ever claim to be bored, I have a whole arsenal of supplies ready to go-- it's ridiculous how much there was scattered between their two bedrooms!
2. The simple suggestion that they go get a coloring book from the coloring book box (there is one of these now!) and sit at the dining room table and color.

Okay, now I know that this seems so simple, and I have definitely suggested things like this before, but it's actually working now. I think because I am doing a little less of expecting them just to play on their own all the time and more of suggesting , directing, and engaging them in activities. I know, this is sad coming from a teacher. When would we leave our classrooms up to the kids to decide what to do all day long? I still want them to learn to entertain themselves, too, but the balance of entertaining themselves and also being directed is important. (I know, duh.)

Countdown to Kindergarten

Here is Gage with his countdown calendar. When preschool was over at the end of May, he thought kindergarten would immediately follow, and he also didn't understand the concept of 3 months. I tried to tell him about 90 days, but that was just too abstract for him to grasp. So I printed out monthly calendars for the summer, so we could cross of each day and keep a countdown to the first day of school. So far, it has been a big hit.

Each night, he loves crossing off the day, and then every few nights, we count how many days are left and write it on the day we just crossed out. He's learning a little about the concept of time passing, but we are also practicing counting past twenty and writing our numbers, which as you can see (maybe), he sometimes writes backwards. I think writing on the wall is messing with his head!

Cartoon Network/Nickelodeon Ban- Update

A few days ago, I officially entered dictator mode and banned all Cartoon Network and Nickelodeon watching at the Rock House. I usually don't let them watch TV all that much, but lately all they have wanted to do is watch Cartoon Network. There were already shows on those channels that have had the ban implemented, but after hearing them incessantly recite various snippets of inane humor, I decided enough was enough. I scoured our cable guide to find any other child-friendly (read actually child-friendly and parent approved, unlike some of the shows on CN and Nick) channels that they could watch during their TV time. I made a list of about 6 or 7 channels that have seemed to have met boy-approval. Again, I'm sure I'm late in the game here in deciding to take action here, but I'm deciding to be happy with my progress and not look back.

So here's our list of mom-approved, boy-tested channels:
PBS Kids
Discovery Kids
Noggin
Two local PBS stations
Disney (sadly, this needs to be monitored at times-- I'm not ready for them to watch Hannah Montana, etc.)

So this morning for Saturday morning TV, they were watching Trading Spaces, Boys vs. Girls on Discovery Kids. Much better than The Misadventures of Flapjack, right? :)

Oh, and the image above is a free image courtesy of photo8.com. All of the images from this site are in the public domain and can be used for any purpose. I probably will share things like this from time to time-- just the instructional technology side of me.




And I saw this really cool signature creating site on a friend's blog that I just had to try out. MyLiveSignature allows you many different options for creating your own digital and customized signature.

Rediscovering

This has been a great week full of fun and activity. And somewhere in the midst of that, I have had the luck and blessing to rediscover why I love being a mom. Yes, I admit-- I have always found myself somewhere in the middle of loving my life as a mom and being completely frustrated, which I'm sure is true of many moms. I completely love and appreciate my boys, but I was often confronted with a complete lack of patience, creativity, and energy. Not all of the time, but enough for it to always bother me.

Somehow, in someway, all of that has changed this week. I am always grateful for my month as a stay at home mom, but part of me always dreaded it, too. Not because I didn't want to spend time with them, but because I had no idea what to do with all of our time. It would completely overwhelm me. Suddenly, I am full of ideas, full of energy, and totally loving every second of what we have done this week. Maybe it comes from finding happiness and not living with a sense of frustration for past mistakes and lost dreams, or maybe it comes from finally finding confidence in what I can do as their mother. Either way, it is the best gift I could receive. I feel like I have rediscovered my boys and figured out a little more of how to do this mom thing a little better.

Now. We are off to the park. :)

How I Made a Garbage Truck

It was fun building a garbage truck! We had to screw a lot of stuff together. Here is the movie I made! by Pacey

Gagey-isms

Gage is a master at saying words the wrong way, and I am always saying I need to write them down in his baby book. I'm sure there are a few in there, but I figure this is a good place to record his own renditions of words. I have probably let him say them the wrong way for way too long, and Jon is making me correct him since he is going to kindergarten (the picture is of him at registration) in the fall. He should probably learn the right way. I think it is me holding on to one of the last threads of his "babyhood." He is growing up! And some of these are already fixed-- no need to worry.

Okay, so here's the list. I will remember what I can now, and then update as he "mis-speaks." :)

fra-ssert=dessert
fra-mote=remote
wabanna=banana and has recently morphed into bee-anna
squib=squid
My heart is beeping.=My heart is beating.
hook=hood
gwub=glove
plugger=the electrical plug on an item or the actual outlet
boice=voice
ca-no-ca-nut=coconut
ba-na-hind=behind

Just writing these down made me laugh out loud!

New Family Challenges

It has been interesting over the last 10 months since we have all been living together to see what it is going to take to figure out this blended family thing and how to do it well. We were talking just last night about how we didn't realize just how hard it would really be. I think we both knew it would be challenging, but until you really get into the thick of it, I don't think you could really imagine just how challenging.

I can see how, if we just blindly went through it, things could get really messy pretty quickly. Pacey and Gage are still so small and need so much hands-on parenting that if we both went along according to our own agenda with them, they would be confused and we would both be frustrated. What I have liked is that we have stayed pretty aware of what is going on. If something does not work well with the way we handle things with all three of the kids, we have talked about it and worked together to figure out how to better handle situations. I like that we are co-parenting and communicating. I think that will make this a fulfilling challenge, rather than one that makes us want to bang our heads against the wall. Or we may still bang our heads against the wall, but at least we would be working together. :)

Gage and His iPod

I couldn't resist getting a clip of the sweetly singing Gage this morning. My goal this summer is to update this blog more frequently and make it more of a habit. Enjoy!

December Wintergreen Trip

I know this is a little late, but in December we took all three kids to Wintergreen.  After an event-filled 35 minute drive from the hotel to the resort, which included several stops along the mountain roads, one of which included Pacey throwing up, we spent a few hours in the morning tubing, which for the boys, was the hit of the day.  Gage was not interested in learning to ski, but Pacey and I took a snowboarding lesson together.  He was quite brave and picked it up pretty quickly!  We learned a bit about taking small ones skiing/snowboarding, but in all, it was a great day.  We came home exhausted and happy with lots of stories to tell... "Remember when we had to stop along a curvy mountain road in Charlottesville, so Pacey could throw up at the end of someone's driveway?" Ya, I'm sure that will be part of family folklore for many years to come!  

Check out the pictures in Picasa.

And here is a sample video of tubing.

Pacey's Bike Riding Adventure

Since the weekend was so nice, I decided it was finally time to get the training wheels off of Pacey's bike and get him up on two wheels.  With the promise of a new bike, he was ready to go. I took the training wheels off, and with two quick times across the front yard with me holding the seat he was off and on his own.  By the end of the day Sunday, he was doing "tricks" and taking his feet off of the pedals.  Sigh.  :)  So shortly into the future, we will be bike shopping! Enjoy the video!

Hi, everyone!

I am going to keep this so that you can all stay posted on everything that is happenign with us here at the Rock House! I am hoping that from time-to-time, Pacey, who is becoming quite a cyber-citizen will begin to type some posts and upload pictures and videos he is taking with his new camera Santa got him for Christmas. For now I will share some of the pictures taken by Jeff of Calma Photography.