I Believe In Bad School Pictures

This post is very long in the making. I imagined it in the springtime, following the second batch of school picture taking. What, you ask? Your school takes school pictures twice a year? Yes. Yes, we do.

Usually, I forgo the spring package because one bleak grayish  background mug shot a year is all I really need to document my children's facial development. I know lots of people who no longer pay for the privilege of bad school pictures at all because they have a friend or know so and so or take better pictures themselves. I understand that logic. Part of me envies that logic. But, I don't have that local friend or personal talent and so, for posterity's sake, I usually purchase the cheapest portrait package available.

When the advertisements for portrait packages came home in the school folder last spring, I laughed at the plethora of festive backgrounds and poses. It immediately reminded me of my own sixth grade year.

You see, my mother was also a believer in bad school pictures. Oh, back then, no parent really had any kind of alternative, but each of us six kids got the exact same package. The 5 X 7 was the largest photo desired (it hurt my feelings a bit that neither parent wanted me in an 8 X 10) and it went to a shelf of framed photos, updated every year, in my Dad's law office. There was no pleading with my mother for a bigger package, one with more wallet sized pictures to offer even more friends. Like me, I think she got the cheapest one available and always....always with the traditional grey background.

I was a bit big for my britches in sixth grade. I fancied myself...popular. My friend, Lisa, and I were kind of the rulers of the school, if you will. And she was not getting the boring grey background. She, with the help of her cooler parents who let me call them by their first names, had selected the scenic background. The one with the captain's wheel.

I had to have it as well. Even though I knew my mother would never agree to it. I remember walking to school, up the final uphill stretch along Custer avenue and taking the order form out of my backpack. I scribbled out the box checked "traditional" and placed a checkmark next to "scenic."






Even though I vividly remember my own feelings and urgent desire to have this backdrop, as well as the photo to prove that I got it, I don't remember at all any kind of punishment or trouble for getting it. I know for certain it couldn't have been my parents favorite. At the very least, there was one glaring photo in a row of six sitting behind my dad that screamed, "One of these is not like the others!"

Maybe it was to prevent my own children's urge for picture rebellion, I ordered each of my elementary kids some scenic backdrops of their own. The selection was truly hideous. Sam chose his, which makes sense because he is a sports nut, but I got the ugliest one available for Henry, which was harder to choose than you think. There was lots of colorful variety.

Their pictures came again this year and even though they aren't shimmering with sunlight or photoshopped with bright eyes and dazzling teeth, I love these bad school pictures. Probably because I really love these amazing boys.

Because I have been a very bad blogger in the past, here are all of their school photos I never posted!


From fall 2011:




Seth: Fall 6th Grade



Sam: Fall 3rd Grade



Henry:  Fall Kindergarten


The "fancy" backdrops from spring 2012:





Sam: Spring 3rd Grade



Henry: Spring Kindergarten

Last year's class photos:




Sam's 3rd Grade class with Mrs. Harper




Henry's Kindergarten class with Mrs. Henderson

And, finally, all three boys this fall!




Seth:  Fall 7th Grade



Sam:  Fall 4th grade



Henry:  Fall 1st Grade (with his transformer teeth thanks to his dentist not offering me tooth colored crowns!)

First Day of School - 2012

Fourth Grade

First day choice of outfit: BYU t-shirt and basketball shorts

I haven't seen these poofy soccer shorts all summer.  Suddenly, on the first day of school, he pulls them out and declares them his favorite pair.  Add some white socks to some Tevas and you've got fashion-star 1st Grade Henry.

 It's really hard to get good pictures of him without sunglare on his glasses.  I love this shot because you can see his beautiful eyes.  1st Grade!

Seth's outfit is not a surprise.  He loves these shorts because they are his longest and most basketball-y.   Plus, orange is his favorite color.

Nike Elite socks are a given because he spent ALL of his birthday money on 7 pairs of socks.  You read that right.  A 12 year-old spent all of his money on socks.  So...they must be pretty cool.  And, he starts cross-country today after school so I knew he'd want his steve Prefontaine t-shirt that says, "You're gonna have to bleed to beat me."  Go Seth.  

We tried to get haircuts yesterday but the lines were too long.  Still, he makes for a handsome 7th grader.

And then there's Daniel who is at a loss for what to do in all the quiet.  He's used to all three boys fighting for his smile and attention.  It's going to be awfully boring around here now.  Cleaner...for sure.  But boring.

Bolder Boulder and Last Week of School

I’m that far behind. It’s tempting to ignore these old picture posts and just begin again afresh but every time I think that, I think of the many missing picture posts from last year when I was pregnant and I don’t want to miss two summers! So...fewer words and more pictures to catch up.

For the past four years since we’ve lived here, school has ended the week before Memorial Day.  As the Bolder Boulder always takes place on Memorial Day Monday, we have been able to drive up and make it our first summer family event with possible trips to Six Flags Elitch Gardens or a Rockies baseball game in Coors field.  This year, it was a quick weekend trip with one fun day at Waterworld and celebrating our nephews, Michael and Jacob, graduation from high school.   For some reason, I didn’t take any pictures of them or their party or their new house.  I was really off my game.

Road trip!

Henry is not into having his picture taken.

It was warmish but definitely on the cooler side when you were wet because it was so windy.

Jay had zero desire to get a sunburn or suntan, for that matter, and made sure he was covered up.

Sarah came to do the race with us and it is always nice to spend time with her.

Henry’s bed at the hotel.  He thought it was pretty cool to have a couch bed.

This was Henry’s first year to do the race.  Seth and Sam both got their inaugural run when they were six and so it was only fair to extend the same invitation to Henry, although both Jay and I wondered if he could or would actually do it.  Thanks to Jay’s amazing patience, he came back after running his blazing fast 35 minute 10K to do it with Henry.  They finished in 2 1/2 hours.  Jay said it was like holding hands and walking with an anchor.  But, Henry thought it was great.  Seth and Sam ran it on their own even though Seth started throwing up after mile 1.  Like a concerned brother, Sam took off without him but they still finished within minutes of each other.

Sarah and I walked it with me packing Daniel.  He was on my back for the first two miles and then wanted his comfy front position, which was harder for me.  We didn’t break any speed records but we were both proud of ourselves for doing it and it was a lot of fun.

Going up that last killer hill into folsom field.

Running into the stadium of adoring masses.

After their big finish.  Henry is still happy!

Then...just like that, we were back for the big last week of school.  I know they need a certain amount of days to get accreditation but every day was either a field trip, field day or performance.

The 3rd, 4th, and 5th grade music concert.  It was so well done.  Probably the best elementary music concert I’ve ever been to.  Sam is on stage dancing with a scarf.

I had signed up to go with Sam’s class on a field trip.  Here they are playing with a parachute.

Didn’t know where to throw these pictures in so I’ll just stick them in here.  Jay taught Seth how to mow with the riding mower.  They cut the weeds to a manageable height.

Seth really struggled during the last trimester to get his work turned in.  He knew the consequence of not getting his grades up was forfeiting participating in any extra curricular activities next fall.  He got everything turned in and got his grades up but it frustrates me that A) he could get all that work done in 2 nights.  I mean...it isn’t that the work is overwhelming him. and B) that the teachers were so o.k. with him, and lots of other kids it turns out after talking to them, turning stuff in late.  I wish they had a better system to help these kids learn the skills to either get the work done during class time or turn it in within a certain period of time.  Seth was complete assignments from over a month ago.  Grrr...

Up late finishing assignments.

I went into Henry’s last day of Kindergarten for a program.  He loves it whenever I am in his classroom and I feel bad that I was in there so rarely.

His teacher had an award for every student.  Henry was award the super reader and super speller award.

Outside at the end of the day.  Sam bringing home some of his art.  Yay for summer break!

Sleep Over Tired

Growing up, sleeping over at a friend’s house was one of my favorite things to do.  From as early as second or third grade, I had sleepovers at my cousin’s house.  I know fifth and sixth grade were full of them, mostly attached to a birthday celebration, and they continued through high school. I have many fond memories of staying up too late, eating pizza out of the box and not at a table, drinking soda, watching movies, dancing, playing MASH and talking about boys.  I also have plenty of not so fond memories of watching totally inappropriate movies, playing a Ouiji board, trying to make each other faint and be “stiff as a board,” sneaking out to see boys, seeing pornography and other less than ideal situations.

I never thought about it much as a parent until a General Authority spoke about the topic a few years ago.  Due to us moving around frequently during Jay’s medical training, we never really faced the dilemma with Seth as he seemed to lack the close friends that would normally invoke an invitation during his younger years.  Although we had already made a decision as parents against sleepovers for any of our boys, listening to this conference talk reaffirmed our decision.  Since then, Seth has been invited to a few of his friends’ homes for sleepovers but we’ve politely declined without much argument from him.  Because he’s not very verbal, I’m not completely certain he doesn’t hate us for this protective parenting strategy but I rationalize that his childhood isn’t deprived because he gets the flavor of a sleepover when visiting with cousins yet in the parent approved environment of trusted family members.  Win/Win.

Sam, on the other hand, is much more social and verbal.  For years now, he’s been invited to spend the night with various friends and sometimes I feel like the only parent on the planet that says, “no.”  Even though he wishes he could, and says so, he is Mr. Obedient and hasn’t given us any real resistance.  Now, Henry is getting invitations.  I didn’t think it would be as hard as it has been to stick with our resolution.  Every explanation of, “We don’t do sleepovers,” feels like a judgment on those who do and...well...I kind of feel like a fuddy duddy.

Last year was our first year of enrollment at our elementary school and the year long reading program incentive was a sleepover celebration for those who completed all the levels.  While both Seth and Sam completed the challenge with ease, I thought it was weird to have a sleepover at the school and told the boys they could go and I would pick them up that night.  Neither chose to go.  I guess it was embarrassing or something to get picked up early.  I don’t know.

This year, Sam was surprised when I changed my tune.  I’m not sure when or exactly why I did, but it didn’t seem like a big deal to have him participate in the reading challenge sleepover event.  I know the teachers and the principle better as well as many more of the students and I thought, “It will be safe and fun and Sam will get to sleepover with his buddies for once without most of the dangers I hope to avoid.”   He was excited this entire past week in anticipation of Friday night’s activity.  When I dropped him off at the school and watched him greet his friends I wondered if, perhaps, we’ve sheltered him and our other children too much.  Sam is so confident and fun and I love watching him build friendships with these boys.  As they disappeared into the party, I was glad for him and made a mental note to revisit the issue with Jay and perhaps allow a sleepover here and there when our parent-dar deemed the situation safe.  Like running after ice-cream trucks, making snow angels and getting visits from the tooth fairy, sleepovers just seem like an essential part of childhood.

The weekend fallout hasn’t been pretty, however.  Sam had a soccer double header on Saturday.  The day’s temperature reached into the 80s and by the time I got home from the stake youth temple trip (my sister, Sarah, came to help me this weekend and had Sam and Henry all day) and got the day’s scoop, Sam was wasted.  Too tired to answer any questions.  Too tired to be nice.  Too tired to even eat.  He went to bed without dinner (not forced.  His choice) and slept solidly through the night.

I thought that would be the end of the sleep deprived hangover but he has been grumpy and tired today too.  I witnessed a curmudgeon-esque reply to his primary teacher in the halls after our meetings were over and he was the most impatient of all our boys when Jay and I had to meet with the bishop for a few minutes.  After linner (the name of the meal we eat at 3:00 on Sundays after church), he took an hour long nap and just wasn’t himself the entire evening.  I hope tomorrow is better.

So, I think I’m back to my original guns.  No sleepovers.  For all of my original reasons plus the grumpy robot figure that replaces my adorable child in the aftermath.  Still, that gleeful feeling of watching my son enjoy a moment of childhood remains fresh in my memory.  It makes it hard to completely commit.  I hope my awesome parenting skills are what they need to be to both protect my children and let them BE children.

What’s your stance?  No right or wrongs here, just experiences and choices, if you please.





Sleep tight, tired boy. And no more lip tomorrow!:)

What You Missed

The Time Capsule experiment was informative and all but I missed real blogging.  Here’s what I would have posted on those days but in a more truncated format.

Day One.  I’ve lived in this house for nearly two years.  And for nearly two years, I have believed that the locks on all five of the window doors (does that make sense?  The doors that are glass instead of wood) don’t lock.  I figured it was a design flaw and that when we remodel in a year or ten, I’d replace them with doors that lock.  Call it naivety, call it cheap, call it irresponsible, but, yes, that means in the nearly two years that we have lived here, we have never been able to “lock up the house.”  Not at night.  Not on trips.  Never.  So far, so good.

Well, each of those locks are bolt locks underneath a lever handle and when you turn the bolt knob, nothing happens.  I’ve never claimed to be very handy or intuitive when it comes to how things work but I’m going to go out on a limb here and claim that if you see a knob for a lock underneath a handle, turning it should produce some sort of locking action.  Yes?  It doesn’t on these doors hence unlocked doors for two years.

Last Thursday, my son’s friend came over and while they were out on the trampoline, they left the door to the deck open and when I went to close it, it wouldn’t close.  The bolt lock was out and hitting on the jamb, preventing it from fully shutting.  The bolt was out!  How did it get out?  I turned the knob.  Nothing.  As any intuitively fix-it-challenged lady might do, I started simultaneously furiously turning the knob while pulling up and down the the lever handle.  It turned.

I played around with it while the door was closed.  It locked.  Apparently, all I needed to do these past two years to be safe was to raise the lever handle and THEN turn the bolt knob.  Because that is how these doors lock.  All of them.  So, if you were ever thinking of breaking into to my home to rob us, you’re too late.  Uh-oh!  Someone learned how to lock their doors! (said in the voice of Happy Gilmore learning how to putt.  It’s my husband’s fault that I know that movie at all).



Knob turned to the right to lock.  Doesn’t lock.




Door handle lifted up.  Door locks.  Obviously!

Day Two.   I rediscovered a CD in my car that I haven’t listened to in months.  Track five is Florence and the Machine’s Cosmic Love and I just can’t get enough of it.  The drums!  The harp!  The belting!  It made me miss singing so badly.  I don’t even really sing like her - in that style - but I couldn’t help repeating the song over and over and singing out as loud as I could in my car.  Of course, I don’t understand all of the lyrics but once I get a general vowel sound going, I'm good.  I’ve never been a lyric perfectionist.  You say tomato.  I say ah-ah-oh.  Moral of the story is:  I want to sing!  Loudly (or softly if the song called for it) and with emotion.  Wearing sequins would be a plus but it’s not necessary.  Preferably, loud (or soft) emotive singing would be done without the bad ward choir.  But,  I fear it’s not going to happen.



Disclaimer:  I had never seen this video before searching for it to add along with this blog post.  Love the song but ne’er fret, my wishing does not include wearing a pair of cut out leggings.


Day Three.  Second trimester report cards came home.  I am so pleased that each of my school-aged boys are blessed with the kind of intelligence that makes school less of an academic struggle.  Seth got all A’s and one B and the B was the direct result of missing assignments.  The middle school has a website for parents to log on and check grades and assignments and towards the end of the trimester, Seth was missing all kinds of assignments.  Some he had forgotten to turn in.  Some he just didn’t do.  I was emailing teachers and turning into the worst sort of nag but all of his grades came up once he turned in the work he is perfectly capable of understanding and doing.  But, some of the reading assignments were from newspaper articles he couldn’t find again and, thus, the B.  So, while I am pleased that Seth is intelligent, there is an exasperation that he is so disorganized.  We’re working on it.  I’m proud of him making the Honor Roll even though I’ll never, ever display those sentiments on the bumper of my car.




Seth gets his certificate and window decal from his group of core class teachers.



Immediately goes and acts cool with his buddies.  Totally ignoring the embarrassing lady with the camera nearby.

Sam had no problems.  He is bright and organized.  In fact, it annoyed me a bit to get his report card because his teacher almost universally marked his grades as “3”s which, translated, means, “achieves target” (2s are “approaching target" and 4s are “applies at a higher level”.  1s are “requires assistance”) even though he gets pulled out of her class every single day to do differentiated math, reading and language arts with the G/T teacher.  How can he be doing above grade level work outside of her class and still be “at grade level?”  He has completely different spelling words than the rest of the class.  He frequently comes home with some random math puzzler worksheet (like complicated sudoko or multiplying fractions) that is really hard and has nothing to do with what he’s currently learning but is her way of challenging him, I guess. I’m not trying to be obnoxious and I do like his teacher for making the effort to push Sam academically, but if he’s above grade level - give him the 4!  I know he’ll have them on his next report card and my guess is that by waiting to give him a 4, this teacher believes the raising of the grade will somehow reflect her awesome teaching abilities.  Perhaps a cynical and bloated opinion of a biased parent but my opinion nonetheless.

Henry’s report card makes me smile.  Henry, Henry, Henry.  For years, I was worried about Henry having a learning disability.  With his speech delay, it was hard to know what he knew.  Thankfully, I’ve learned that he is very bright.  He does have some other delays, like trouble with his fine motor skills, and the normal boys lengthy attention span delay, but he’s doing well.  Getting all 2s and 3s.  He did pull a couple of “N”s, however.  I remember a few Ns in my own elementary heyday.  Mine were in “avoids unnecessary talking.”  Apparently, I’ve always been wordy.  Henry gets his “N”eeds improvement in “does quality work” and “demonstrates consistent effort.”  His teacher has been on my case about Henry’s deficiencies in both these areas all year.  She is not a big Henry fan.  One of her main gripes is that he does not take the time or seem to care about coloring inside the lines.  He also does not use enough variation in his colors.  One purple or brown crayon will usually do!  I happen to think that pretty colorful pictures are not all that essential to one’s education but I am not a Kindergarten teacher so what do I know.  This comment on one of his take-home papers made me laugh.  Don’t overdo the high praise!  We wouldn’t want Henry to get a big head now!




I guess accolates like “Good Job!” and “Terrific!” are out of vogue in the Kindergarten world.

Day Four:  Did you read the news article about Tide laundry detergent being a target of thieves?  I guess there’s a black market for it.  Let me repeat that.  There is a black market for laundry detergent.  Having white whites and bright colors has joined the seedy underworld of drug trafficking, guns and prostitution.  I buy Tide.  I’ve also learned via Pinterest that blue Dawn dishwashing liquid solves just about all of the world’s problems.  I bet that’s the next at-risk item.  Good thing I have figured out how to lock my doors.

Day Five:   We had to do throw-downs in the body sculpting class I went to.  If you remember from back in my Biggest Loser posting days, this exercise is performed by lying on your back and holding onto the ankles of someone who is standing above your head.  That person “throws down” your legs and you try to keep them from touching the floor, bringing them back up for another throw down.

I had a baby 12 weeks ago.  I have no abdominal muscles.  Imagine my shame when I was the last of the 12 people in the class to complete the exercise.  The shame didn’t come from being last but from the eleven spectators thinking they were helping me by clapping and cheering, “Come on, Lucy!  You can do it!” while I struggled.  Sometimes, being supportive is overrated.  Sometimes, you just need to look away.

A Kindergarten Kutie

There's just something about Henry.  I don't know what it is.  He has a life force that goes beyond charisma.  He drives me crazy at the same time as making me laugh out loud.  He is the most loving little boy you'd ever meet and probably the sneakiest.  He enjoys life and already lives it, at five, to the fullest.  I love him.

And now he's off to Kindergarten.  It's quite anti-climatic to send your youngest off to school all day when they've been in a speech/head start all-day preschool, especially when that preschool's class is next door to the kindergarten classroom.  He walked into the school this morning acting like he owned the place - and sometimes I wonder if he does.  Everyone knows Henry.  Even this morning as we walked down the  near empty halls before the bell rang, forth, fifth grade teachers, moms of other students, the administrative assistant all call out, "Hi, Henry."  Last year, students in every grade would yell out, "High five, Henry!" and hold their hand out, waiting for this little ruler to respond.  Sometimes he did.  Sometimes he didn't.  Maybe that's what makes a charismatic person so alluring:  the uncertainty of reciprocated attention.

He didn't need me to linger at all.  He found his cubby and immediately started asking his teacher all the questions I didn't have the answers to.  Why did she need him to bring cotton balls?  Where is his seat?  Where does he put his lunch?  Why are there computers in the classroom?  I gave him a hug and left his teacher to discover the power that is Henry.

He was excited to take his morning photos.  It was an interesting process.



Showing off his new "big" teeth growing in.  All my children are cursed with small mouths and big teeth.




Stand up straight this time, Henry!



Henry calling out, "I love you, Mom!"



Sad face when I told him just to smile.



But, what's over there?  The sun?



Looking the right way.




Good luck, Henry!  You'll be the best kindergartener ever!