Reed's 7th grade AAAA basketball team played in a tournament this weekend. They joined the tournament to see if they could compete at this level. If they 'had their lunch handed to them' all weekend, they would drop back to the AAA league. Well, they not only competed at the quad A level, they ended up in the championship game, after taking first place in their bracket and then winning their play-off game. The problem, for Reed, is that the championship game was on a Sunday. Not only on Sunday, but right during the middle of Sacrament meeting. Reed has missed many football and basketball games in the past because they were being played on a Sunday. But he's never had to miss a CHAMPIONSHIP game. He told his coach he wouldn't be playing, but that he would be there to support his team. His coach said that would be fine, he could sit next to him on the bench.
I took Reed to an earlier ward's Sacrament meeting. Then he went straight to the game, wearing his church clothes. He said he got a lot of positive comments from his buddies on the team, as well as from his coaches. His head coach, asked him what religion he was. Reed told him he was a Mormon. Then he asked several more questions about the church and Sabbath Day observance, etc. He ended by telling Reed he thought that was neat and he would like to sit down and talk with him sometime about his beliefs.
After the championship game, the coach of the other team came up to Reed and shook his hand. He told him he was really proud of his decision to not play on Sunday.
Tonight after we got home, Reed said to me, "Well, I think I made a statement today."
We took the kids to a Christmas tree farm today. Hank and I wanted to get a noble, and thought we found the "perfect" one. JJ said it was too "spacey." We found another one we liked. Reed said it was "hairy." A few frozen toes and tree farms later, we found it. It was Hank's dream tree. He wanted it so badly he could almost taste it. Montana said it was too "leany-over." Hank said maybe we need to remind them who's in charge. So I reminded them. "Dad's in charge so he gets to choose the tree." You can imagine how well that one went over. Hank tried bargaining. "If we get the leany-over tree (which was actually quite overgrown and could have been topped off and looked great) everybody gets donuts." Montana was good with that, but nobody else was. The next bribe was money. Hank thought he would be able to negotiate a good deal on the leany-over tree, so he told the kids he would split the money he saved with them. They would each get about $5. No go. They were holding firm and holding out for the "perfect" tree. We finally found it. We all loved it. Only problem is the "perfect" tree was 12 feet and our ceiling is only 9 feet. But Hank, being the wheeler-dealer that he is was able to get it for 20 bucks instead of 36 bucks and we cut off some of the bottom and some of the tippy top. Go Hank. Go Hank. Go really, really Hank.
I took Robert to his new foster home today. He seemed rather indifferent, but of course, I didn't expect him to care too much. He's always in his own little world. He saw his brother and his 2 sisters and didn't really show much interest in them. I worry about him. I hope the new foster mom is patient with him because he can be so frustrating at times. I pray for him to have a good home where he feels loved and cherished. When I went to leave, he came to the door with me and wanted to go with me. I had to say goodbye and shut the door. I love that little guy. As I was walking out to my car, the caseworker thanked me profusely for what I've done with Robert and said he could tell we really made a connection with him. I think we did, but then I wonder how that affects him when we leave him behind? Are we just inflicting more emotional/abandonment wounds on him? Mikell told me today to just remember that we're taking him in at the most vulnerable, traumatic time in his life so far...right when he gets ripped out of his home and away from his parents. We took him in and provided a safe, loving home for him and that's the very best situation for him. Regardless of what happens to him when he leaves our home. I guess that's true. We're at least giving him a few days or weeks of unconditional love and acceptance.
What goes on in this little boy's head? He's 3 years old and doesn't talk. He goes around making the strangest sounds. When we first got him a week ago, he would barely even look at us. Now he makes regular eye contact and will occasionally run to me to have me pick him up. It's amazing how much difference a week makes. He's really grown on me. He leaves tomorrow and I think I'm going to miss him. He's such a sweet boy. I won't miss all the busy-ness, the climbing on tables, splashing the water out of the fish tank, dipping his head and hands in the toilet, turning on the bath faucet, spilling cereal all over the floor, grabbing and tipping over anything he can reach, taking his clothes off all day. But I will miss his cute smile, his soft cheeks, his dark eyes, and his sweet disposition. I hope he goes to a good home.
So I've never done this before and I'm kind of nervous about it for some reason. I'm like a really private person and the idea of publishing on the world wide web is a bit intimidating. I love reading my sister's blog. Maybe someone would like reading mine. I don't know.
