Maddie's miracle

I never wanted a dog.  Really, I didn't. Growing up, we were cat people.  James grew up with dogs but they were all outside dogs and I could never wrap my head around that with the below freezing temperatures in winter and the above normal temperatures in the Missouri summers.  Dogs are messy and they smell.  They drool.  They bite people.  They SHED.  I never wanted a dog.

Over 15 years ago, I left for an out-of-state convention and James bought a dog.  (I'm sorry.......excuse me??)  Maybe he misunderstood.  I never wanted a dog. Our friend Paula told him that if we REALLY wanted to have kids soon we needed a dog first so we could begin practicing things like, well, not leaving the house without a sitter.  Practical advice but still.  Paula didn't have kids, she had a dog.......how good could that advice be from a non-child person?!   I returned home from my trip to find a tiny chocolate lab puppy who had JUST been weaned from her mom.  She fit in one hand.  She was adorable. 

James immediately began HIS duty of crate training her because lets face it, I DIDN'T WANT A DOG.  If he insisted we have a dog, HE was going to house break her AND she was gonna live inside with the people so I didn't worry about her freezing or suffering from heat exhaustion.  Period.  End of story on that one.  I was NOT gonna budge. The crate sat next to James' side of our bed.  Puppy cried because she missed her mom and siblings so James slept with his hand dangling over the side of the bed in front of the door to the crate so puppy could smell James and feel safe.  Since we live in a split level home and puppy's tummy was too big and her paws too short  to make it down the stairs, James would dutifully get up every night and carry her down the stairs and out to the yard.  I must admit, it worked beautifully.  She was crate trained in no time.

In an effort to appease me, James let me name the puppy.  I chose Madison (Maddie for short) because I liked the name a lot but not enough to use on a female child we may have later.  Plus, I strongly believe in two-syllable names for dogs because of the snappy cadence when barking out (get it....barking out?) commands;  ie, Ma-ddie:  SIT, etc.  This left the middle name for James to choose.  He chose
Tecumseh.  Again, excuse me?? (According to Wikipedia the name means: "pron.: /tɛˈkʌmsə/; March 1768 – October 5, 1813) was a Native American leader of the Shawnee and a large tribal confederacy (known as Tecumseh's Confederacy) which opposed the United States during Tecumseh's War and the War of 1812. Tecumseh has become an iconic folk hero in American, Aboriginal and Canadian history.<sup>[1]")

Okay, whatever.  Maybe we never had to actually SAY the middle name and thus explain all of THAT nonsense.  Now, part of my demanding that we have an indoor dog that I did not want involved a discussion revolving around the ever-so-important manners of an indoor dog.  This landed Maddie and I straight into dog school.  I gotta say, I loved dog school.  I really did.  There is so much power in training and commanding a dog.  I had no idea.  Our only problem was that Maddie was a bit like her handler and often lazy.  She was the only dog in dog school that performed a lay down-stay in stead of a sit-stay.  She just didn't have all of that interest in sitting.  Luckily the teacher took pity on us and we passed with flying colors.  By the end of our time at school she had earned her basic obedience 1 & 2 degrees AND her canine good citizen degree.  She was trained, well behaved and most importantly, I was the alpha dog in the house.  This is where our relationship truly began.  

Maddie slept on our big bed every night.  We decided that her weight multiplied exponentially when she laid down because once down, that's it.  The covers were NOT moving.  We got used to it.  We added her name to our answering machine message.  She took center stage in all of our Christmas photos.  She had a bed with her name on it and her own personalized suit case for travel.  We were DOG people now.  She had become our child and we loved her very very much.  

Sometime during this period, my grandmother began creating those towels that you button around your stove handle.  We had dozens of them.  I once buttoned one around the refrigerator door.  One day, we returned home to find the fridge door wide open and all of its lower level contents strewn about the entire upper level of our house.  I'm talking ketchup, salad dressing, syrup, mustard, mayo, plastic containers with left-over treasures from our meals, etc.  Did you know that a teenage chocolate lab can chew right through plastic?!  Its true.  They can.  Her artistry all over our carpeting was brilliant. We now have hard wood in the dining room area.  Enough said.

Once, James was making a Chef-Boyardee pizza.  It was warm outside so he set the dough to rise in a bowl out on the top ledge of our deck.  When I went outside to retrieve it I found the bowl empty but Maddie quite full.  We 911'ed the vet, certain of her immediate demise.  The joke was on us though as the vet said she would be in a carb-coma for awhile but otherwise fine and by the way, what were we now gonna do about dinner?

If you know anything about chocolate labs you know they have very powerful tails.  To this day, we do not have a coffee table in our living room because we quickly grew tired of her standing in front of us with her tail wagging and completely sending all of the coffee table contents across the room after a short flight.  You know, things like candy dishes, candles, full glasses with colored drinks in them.  It was fine.  She was our baby and we loved her.  We didn't really need a coffee table.

The Maddie stories are endless.  One of my favorites is the conversation James and I had about her being sick.  (see Christmas letter 2007).  Not long after falling in love with her we decided to try our hand at actual human family members.  The day we brought Alex home I laid him in his bassinet next to our bed.  We had a large four poster (tall) bed at the time and when Maddie jumped up onto the bed she could put her nose down into the bassinet and literally be eye-to-eye with Alex.  We were tentative as we had read everything written on introducing your new human-baby to your older dog-baby and we knew this could go either way.  Maddie approved, gave Alex a big lick in the face and the two of us lied down on the bed and watched Alex sleep.  Soon, Alex was laying on a blanket in the middle of the living room with Maddie right next to him.  After considerable training, Maddie learned which squeaky toys were hers and which were Alex's but there were times when I wondered if maybe they really just shared all toys.  Alex grew to crawl after Maddie and eventually try and ride her like a pony.  She was the most tolerant dog you can ever imagine.  She loved Alex just like we did.

Four years later, Adam came along and they quickly fell into the same routine.</sup>

<sup>Her name was removed from our out-going message as the kids' names were added but she was as ever present as always.

Time passed as it always does and Maddie grew older.  Her parents died as did every one of her siblings.  James, who had declared MANY times that once Maddie goes he is NEVER getting another dog fell in love with a Springer Spaniel named Lucy  that we met at my Aunt Polly's house.  Polly and her partner Sherry work in social service but had also been avid dog rescuers for quite some time.  (I think after meeting Maddie)  There were always MANY dogs to play with at "camp" in Iowa and it was during our frequent trips there that Adam decided he wanted to be a vet when he grew up.  Here is a pic of him and "Barney" one of the Polly/Sherry Iowa dogs.</sup>

^{James' new love interest Lucy is an adorable dog who was ALREADY trained.  James made us all take a picture of her to send to her original owners (who could not house her anymore) to illustrate what a wonderful family she would have with us and instead of finding a way for them to keep her, could we please just have her?}

<sup>James and the boys drove back to Iowa a few weeks later and Lucy has been with us for nearly two years now.  We can't imagine our life without her.  One of the most interesting things is that she kept Maddie young.  I firmly believe that Maddie stayed with us for as long as she did because she was determined to go up the stairs every time Lucy did.  James liked to tell people that we got a dog for our dog.

Last year in January of 2012, we returned home from a New Year's Eve trip to the lake.  We had to board the dogs while we were gone which we do not like to do but since it was Christmas break, I had no college students to call upon  for in-house dog care.  After getting Maddie home we noticed that she had significant trouble standing and walking.  I sat all night with her on her bed in the living room, willing her to move.......but nothing.  When James and the boys came home from school, we all said our goodbyes to Maddie.  James carried her one last time down to our back yard for a visit.  He laid her down in the grass.  It was just about this time when the kids came running into the yard from the side gate and that dog STOOD UP and walked over to them.  We were dumb struck.  Tears in our eyes, I am not quite sure we believed what we had just seen.  James carried her to the truck and took her to our regular vet who met him outside. He took one look at Maddie and told James he would not give up on her yet and to take her home for awhile.  It was a miracle.

Maddie stayed with us the entire next year.  On Christmas eve of 2012 she was at a different vet where we take the dogs to be groomed.  The vet, a woman with children of her own, called and asked if she could run some tests on Maddie because she did not look well.  The result was leukemia and the time had come.

Initially, my plan was to send James to the vet to be with Maddie as she made her transition and to tell the kids she had a heart attack and died while there.  Things turned out very differently.  Because it was Christmas Eve I had an entire house full of relatives.  One of those relatives was Aunt Polly.  We shared our news with her and she encouraged us to ALL go (even the kids?!?!) because we were all a family.  Now I need to tell you that I had SERIOUS doubts about this course of action.  In the end, I said the only way that I would do it would be if Aunt Polly (who had been through this numerous times) went with us.  Into the truck we then all piled.

When we got there they put us all in a room together and James and Adam and I sat on the floor and Alex and Polly sat on a bench.  They brought a blanket in and then brought in Maddie who was so happy to see us all!  I told the vet that Adam wanted to be an animal doctor when he grew up and she said something I will never forget.  This woman whom I had never met and who was helping us in this most special way looked at my 8 year old son and said "this is the hardest thing that a vet EVER has to do.  When you become a vet you make a promise to the whole world that you will help all animals to get better. If you cannot do that, then you promise to help them to not hurt anymore."  He looked at her with his big brown puffy eyes and I KNEW this was gonna be okay.  The vet sat on the floor with us and I asked her to explain the procedure to the boys who listened and petted Maddie.  She gave us treats to feed Maddie  as we all sat there on the floor and she talked us through it.  When Maddie left, all of our hands were on her.  We cried but felt some peace in the notion that this is what responsible pet owners do.

After she was gone, the vet told us that we were looking at a unicorn........that labs in general never live this long and she must have been very well taken care of and very much loved.  No truer words were ever said.

Now, this experience could be viewed (and read) as a negative thing what with having to say goodbye to your long time friend on Christmas Eve but I will ask you to consider some things for a minute that might help you to look at this the way I do.  There were many blessings at work here.  First of all, because it was a holiday, our home was filled with family.  Instead of returning to an empty house (except Lucy) we had the grandparents to help with sad feelings.  Grandparents are great at that.  Additionally, Aunt Polly was in town.  There is NO WAY I would have gone and taken the kids to this event if she had not persuaded us to do so.  Alex felt safe in shedding tears because his great Aunt was also. Looking back, I would have had it NO other way.  Finally, we were with a female vet who knows how to talk to kids.  In its sad own way, that was a beautiful thing.
  
The way I look at it, God was in complete control of this situation.  He had it taken care of and did not need my help in the least.  (Hard to believe I know LOL)  Maddie had the miracle of an extra year with us AND Adam has Lucy to snuggle every night.</sup>

     

Christmas Crisis--Someone push PAUSE!

Dear family and friends,

Merry Christmas.  Happy New Year.  Well, that’s about it.  Time for me to close.

Peace to you and yours,

Missy

This is very nearly how my Christmas letter is going to read this year and really, (and I do mean REALLY), I have NO GOOD EXCUSE as to why.

I am lucky, blessed, healthy, blah blah blah.  For whatever reason, I’m just not that “into” Christmas this year.  James constructed the tree two weeks ago and I have yet to hang a single ornament.  We have a few bubble lights that are not working and I have not yet rushed to Walmart in a Christmas decorating frenzy to make certain that the last bubble light in Kirksville has not already been snatched up.  Our neighbor went all out with lights on his house this year and I truly feel like taking this approach:

Someone needs to perform a Christmas intervention and QUICK.  I think the problem may have to do with my children trying to grow up and frankly, I don’t care for it.  Earlier this year, my body decided to enter the non-child bearing years which honestly, I didn’t see coming.   I mean yea, I’m 45 and all but seriously?  My insides just looked around at each other and declared “yup, that’s it, we’re done?!”  Never thought it could happen.  I would have 10 kids if my body had cooperated and YES I am happy and FORTUNATE to have not one but TWO healthy boys to love and raise.  It’s the RAISING part that feels nearly over.  They are 8 & 12.  Now I know I came to the parenting party relatively late and that many of my friends have children who have graduated from high school or who are about to have a child reaching that (devastating) landmark so I realize I am lucky to still have children on the younger side.  But still……..

A few years back I wrote a Christmas letter about how no one ever ages where I work.  It’s true.  Every single year for the past 20 years the majority of the people I interact with have been between the ages of 18-25.  I myself was 25 when I began my work at the university.  I was “one of them.”  Somehow, they continued to remain the same age and I didn’t.  Neither did my kids.

At Thanksgiving, my 12 year old was taller than my stepmother and mother.  I myself no longer reach down to hug him, I reach out.  I guess that should be a beautiful thing but to be honest, I hate it.  His voice is deepening.  He is beginning to have the “attitude” that I SWORE no child of mine would ever have.  He puts together Legos for his brother and not for himself anymore.  He goes to movies WITHOUT ME.  WHAT?????  When the hell did that happen?!?!  His pant legs are perpetually two inches from the ground and most people think it’s because he is just growing so fast that we cannot keep up but really, part of it is because if I buy him new pants every 12 seconds I have to confront the fact that he is growing up.  He keeps asking us for a phone.  When I tell him no and that he's not old enough he says that’s not true and I just don’t want him to grow up.  (I hate it when there's truth in what he says----let’s not go crazy though, he’s still not getting a phone yet)

I understand now why the “baby” of the family is ALWAYS the baby.  It’s because if mothers ever let their “babies” grow up the world would end as we collectively know it.  My eight year old will forever be four years old in my eyes and NOT graduating up to playing flag football, NOT driving and CRASHING go carts and NOT wrestling two times a week with HEAD GEAR.  He’s just a BABY!!!!!

James always says it’s lucky that we did not have any girls.  He says this because he claims that 1.  “If you make a decision based on emotion, he cannot help you” and 2.  “A daughter would be just like the mother and there is no way there could be TWO of us in the same house.”  I am now beginning to question this logic.  I have been a student of life long enough to recognize that boys tend to grow up, get married and gravitate toward their wive’s families for their adult lives.  Well guess what?  I don’t have any girls so does this mean that both of my boys will be GONE soon?  HELP!!!!  This thought makes me crazy.  Additionally, I have listened to enough Dr. Laura to recognize that unless I bow down and kiss the feet of the girls that they may marry one day, I will have no access to the grandchildren.  This thought makes me MORE CRAZY.  (Let’s not go nuts here, I’ll do it and won’t even blink but still…….)

A few weeks ago I was in the car with the 12 year old.  I was talking about (okay, lecturing) the idea that the child needs to find SOMETHING to motivate him to get better grades.  This conversation went on pretty much like you can image it would between a 12 year old boy and his MOTHER when all of a sudden I got desperate for material.  The next thing I knew I was telling him that regardless of whether or not he gets good grades he is outta the house in five years at the ripe old age of 18.  I told him I no longer cared if he studied because frankly, I am tired of talking about it.  I went on to inform him that if he did not pay attention and try in school NOW, he will not gain command of some important pre-high school concepts, followed by high-school concepts and resulting in admittance into a college.  I told him it was fine with me if he wanted to skip college as long as he could find a job (McDonalds) didn't mind walking to work in his spiffy fast food uniform (because he couldn’t afford a car) and could NEVER again afford to go to another Cardinal game (really, have you seen those ticket prices?).  I told him he was in charge of his own destiny, he has five years left on the family payroll and good luck.

Why do I mention all of this?  I do so because in a sick kinda way I actually thought maybe that would not be so bad.   If he fails in school he would have to stay in town and never really grow up and move away.  (Not to worry,  I quickly came to my senses when I imagined him living in the basement and dealing drugs out the back door to make a living.  I also imagined the caliber of female that this M.O. would attract and that I would have to subsequently bow down to and became myself suddenly quite ill.)

The week of Thanksgiving we took the boys to Florida to Sea World, Lego Land and the beach.  They had never seen the beach and I will NEVER forget their eyes when they FIRST saw the ocean.  Hey you can read about it here in Missouri but there is no comparison to a field trip to the real deal.  They were stunned.  They were giddy.  They were…….child like.   

We have never pulled them out of school and taken them anywhere like that for two days but I felt the need then and the truth is, I continue to.  It’s like, I'm BEGGING the universe to pass me the remote control for life so I can push PAUSE!!!!!!  SERIOUSLY!  REALLY! HONESTLY!  I NEED A PAUSE BUTTON.

I think I'm having a Christmas crisis. I think I don’t want to decorate or wrap or sing or do ANYTHING because I’d rather just sit on the couch with my kids and watch movies or listen to their stories or make them a snack because time is passing and FAST.  Last month we celebrated my only living grandmother’s 90^th birthday.  That’s 90 candles.  

 

Time is FLYING people and I’d really just like it to stop.  For now, for maybe just awhile longer, I want to keep them young.  Lately, they have wanted to sleep in our bedroom with us.  Because they are so huge, there is no room in the bed so they have been camping out on our floor each night.  I know I am supposed to hate this and DEMAND that they return to their beds and not sleep on our floor because its unhealthy for them in some way and yadda yadda yadda.  Maybe there will come a time when I feel that way.  That time however, has not yet arrived.  That time is not today. 

My one wish for you this Christmas is the gift of a pause.   I think we should all ask for one.  I need to submit final grades, decorate the house, plan the holiday menu, wrap some gifts, create the clinic schedule for next semester and pay the bills.  Instead, I think I will go home and watch a Christmas movie with the kids while they still want to be in the same room with me.  Instead, I am going home to push PAUSE.

Merry Christmas and Happy New Year from Midlife me to all of you!  

Midterm Madness

How many of you out there can relate to this?  You mark it on your calendar.  You dread it for weeks.  You secretly pray it will all be okay and then the moment of judgement comes.  The kids get in the car and you ask the dreaded question (half holding your breath and half squinting) "well........how were they?"  What you of course are referring to in late September are MIDTERM GRADES.  That day was today in my house and that day has not gone well so far.  

The 12 year old brought home A's in all of the important stuff like religion, P.E., art, music and computers (typing not programming).  Those other minor subjects like math, science, language and social studies have not fared as well so far this term.  As of now he stands a good chance at being pope (you know, if the smoke stack signal ever chose a straight A religion student from small town Missouri America) or there is still hope for truck driving school because he is not yet 16 and can still try his hand at driving.  Other than that, if we don't pick things up quickly here those are the career choices. (The eight year old cannot even fall back on truck driving school as he wrecked his go-cart this summer) The grades were NOT GOOD.  

Now let me put some things in perspective for you.  Our children are tutored twice a week to maintain AVERAGE grades.  (Remember average?  In the grade rule book a grade of "C"  is average).  My boys' baselines when left up to their own devices are way below average.  I find this to be sincerely frustrating.  Their father TEACHES  ENGLISH for a living and I am a speech-language pathologist working in higher education.  How can that even sorta result in a "C" in language class?  REALLY????

Now I know it takes a village and our villagers are working overtime.  We have two tutors, one reading teacher, one language based literacy clinician, one nun, one priest, two class room teachers and two parents who actually CARE!  Why why WHY is this not all resulting in straight As?!?  

So the husband and I have had the beginnings of the "talk" about what to do for the 2nd half of the term.  He is strongly in favor of them living Amish.  I've tried this before.  It involves completely unplugging the kids.......like from everything.  Do you know what kids DO when they are completely unplugged besides sit in their room and pretend to study for 10 minutes at a time or fall asleep?  They become your shadow and I don't mean in a good way.  I mean in a "I'm tripping on you please get off my feet" kinda way.  

Since we don't believe in beating our children the remaining options were this (blog) and create some other ways to cope.  I am taking a two pronged approach.  The first is tap into the available dead Catholic helpers.  (This one is for you Ned!)

In addition to tutors it seems like we could use some serious prayer.  Saint Thomas Aquinas is the patron saint to turn to in times like this.  It is reported that he is the patron saint of "academics, against storms, (huh?) against lightning,(good to know as I hate lightening) apologists, (not sure what that even means) book sellers, Catholic academies, Catholic schools, Catholic universities, chastity, (good to know for later occurring prayers for them) colleges, learning, pencil makers,(seriously, there is a patron saint for EVERYTHING if you look hard enough) philosophers, publishers, scholars, schools, students, theologians, universities, and (the ever important??) University of Vigo. (I wonder if they take students with bad grades?)
 
 When you look more deeply into this guy's history it turns out he was the Son of the Count of Aquino, born in the family castle in Lombardy near Naples. Educated by Benedictine monks at Monte Cassino, and at the University of Naples. He secretly joined the medicant Dominican friars in 1244. His noble family kidnapped and imprisoned him for a year to keep him out of sight, and deprogram him, but he rejoined his order in 1245.
He studied in Paris from 1245-1248 under Saint Albert the Great, then accompanied Albertus to Cologne. Ordained in 1250, then returned to Paris to teach. Taught theology at University of Paris. He wrote defenses of the mendicant orders, commentaries on Aristotle and Lombard's Sentences, and some bible-related works, usually by dictating to secretaries. He won his doctorate, and taught in several Italian cities. Recalled by king and university to Paris in 1269, then recalled to Naples in 1272 where he was appointed regent of studies while working on the Summa Theologica. On 6 December 1273 he experienced a divine revelation which so enraptured him that he abandoned the Summa, saying that it and his other writing were so much straw in the wind compared to the reality of the divine glory. He died four months later while en route to the Council of Lyons, overweight and with his health broken by overwork.(taken hastily from www.drstandley.com)

My first thought was maybe I am related to this guy.  I could defintely see myself dying overweight and overworked.  Then I remembered he was born in the family castle and there goes our familial relation.  My second thought was that maybe the 12 year old would do better if we kidnapped him and TRIED to keep him away from learning.  I mean, it worked for this guy.  Nevertheless, prayers to St. Aquinas it will be.

The second prong of my approach is to award the boys my own grades.  These kids are not star athletes or star musicians or even star citizens but they at least TRY.  For that, they deserve some A's.  Here goes:

I am awarding a grade of A to the 12 year old for sarcasm.  He does not have to study AT ALL and he is amazing with this skill.  (I wonder where he gets that?!)  He also gets an A for being afraid of the creatures from the movie Gremlins.  Seriously, he hides the DVD under 3 blankets that are topped off by his heaviest shoes and he sleeps with a bat "just in case."  He is AWESOME at eating the rolls from Colton's steakhouse so he gets an A for that too. 

The eight year old gets an A for selecting books that are WAY above his little dyslexic reading level.  Honestly, he brought me the ("mom, its a classic") Mutiny on the Bounty from the classic literature section of the playroom last night.  He tried and tried and TRIED and after an agonizing half hour of sounding out the first page he gave up.  (On another note, I am now staying up late reading it because he left it on my bed and I was too tired to move) He also gets an A for general care and compassion for all living things from his dogs to his hermit crabs AND for finding his belt everyday.  (Hey, sometimes its a reach to find material that is "A" worthy in our house)

Finally, I will give them both A's in kindness and goodness and perseverance.  No matter what we throw at them they keep TRYING and for that, I am one lucky parent. With that I will close this entry of Midlife Melissa.  At the moment I am at my office and I just called home.  "Living Amish" has begun and the 12 year old cannot quite get his head around this reality AND the fact that the Cardinals are making the playoffs.  Its gonna be a LONG few weeks.
 

St. Thomas Aquinas FEAST DAY: January 28
SAMPLE PRAYER: Through Jesus Christ's Precious, Pure and Holy name I pray. - Amen

And the boat horn blew again........

Well, with the end of Labor Day it appears as though we have officially put another summer to bed.  Many things happened during the summer of 2012.  We said goodbye to another one of my grandparents at the beginning of it.  Adam was diagnosed with dyslexia and survived a serious go-cart accident in the middle of it (Luckily, the two were in no way related!) and we ventured back to Arkansas at the end of it. 

For over 25 years my sister and I have taken a trip to Arkansas with my dad.  The tradition began back when Caterpillar tractor company shut down for two weeks every July to provide a company-wide vacation time.  Dad began to take us to a beautiful lake near Hot Springs called Lake Ouachita.  We stayed at the same resort for most of those years, a little family owned business called Shangri-La.  I have always intended to write a book about our history there and hope to call it "Growing up Ouachita" because we literally, grew up there.

My sister Molly and I learned to ski on that lake and for most of the 25 years dad had the same boat.  It took me a loooooong time to get up on skis but when I finally did, dad blew the boat horn as an auditory message to the skier that said "good job kid, you DID it."  Every year we returned to the lake and every year we skied once again.  Each time we finally "got up" dad blew the horn.  It was an expected tradition for me and one that I look back on fondly.  Years later our oldest son Alex learned to ski on the same lake and behind the very same boat. 

As we got older some things changed as they always do.  My sister is now "aunt Molly" with her own boat in Missouri and still a great skier.  My dad is retired now and living out side of Hot Springs.  He still keeps a boat on lake Ouachita, though sadly, not the same boat of our 25 + year history.  (Although this NEW boat has a slide and is a BIG HIT with the grand kids).

Last month, we were back on lake Ouachita once more and enjoying some family time boating.  Alex learned to ski several years ago and quickly became confident and perhaps a little cocky as only 12 year old boys can.  He spent lots of time watching his aunt Molly slalom ski and was frequently envious.  Dad decided that this was the year to really try and get Alex to slalom.

Learning to ski using only one can be a definite challenge for anyone, let alone the highly un-athletic like my son and myself.  The long-standing joke in our boat was that when you were learning to get up on one ski it was gonna be a "really hard pull."  Alex experienced this first hand many times.

 The great thing about this kid is that he NEVER gave up.  He never whined.  He never complained.  He just kept trying over and over and over.  Those of us in the boat circled MANY times and returned the rope to him so he could try again and again..........and again.

He was determined and as predicted, it was a REALLY hard pull.

He focused, prayed and I am sure in his head at least, he cussed just a little at the difficulty of this task  But his aunt Molly could do it and he REALLY wanted to be successful.  Many many attempts later, he finally opened his eyes to discover himself on top of the water on ONE ski.  He was so excited and you could literally read the word "pride" on his face.  He stayed up and skied for a few minutes to enjoy his new-found success before tossing the rope and giving up to drag his exhausted adolescent body into the boat.

But prior to ending his ride, as the sun set late on that August day over lake Ouachita those of us in the boat cheered as dad blew the boat horn once again.