What Are Your Boys Into?

Ever notice how certain obsessions come and go?

For awhile, Boy #2 was obsessed with dinosaurs. Then he switched to butterflies. (Go figure.) Some days, the Tonka trucks are in style. Other days, they're not.

The latest obsessions at my house are Lincoln logs, sand and water. Let me explain.

The Lincoln logs are just, well, cool. We had some for years, but as you've probably already figured out, you can never have too many Lincoln logs. So when none of my brothers stepped up to claim the Lincoln logs at my parents' house last fall, I brought them home and added them to our stash.

For three days now, my youngest three boys have been creating elaborate constructions out of the notched wooden blocks. Garages seem to be their building-of-choice; miniature cars sit safely in the structures, guarded by the plastic figurines my boys so helpfully place on the roof.

Of course, no boy can stay inside forever, and lately when mine head outside, they head straight for the sandbox. They started digging last week, during a major rain storm. They dug out a pit, next to the sandbox. (WHY do they always have to dig next to the sandbox?) The pit filled with water, as intended. The boys joked that it would be funny to see a fish in the puddle, and Boy #1 happily agreed. He went fishing early the next morning with a friend and not-so-secretly planted three bullheads in the pit.

I may have been the only woman in the neighborhood with fish swimming at the bottom of her garage stairs. I'm pretty sure I'm the only woman in the neighborhood (in the town?) who ate a fish dinner today from her backyard. (Boy #1 fried us up a succulent fish dinner today after adding fish to the pond yesterday).

So the fish are gone -- but the boys' interest in sand and water has not abated. They were out there again this afternoon, re-shaping the pond and creating rivers, streams and dams.

What are your boys into these days?

Snapshot Sunday: My Fish!

I am not much of an angler. Boy #1, however, is a fishing fanactic -- and a pretty talented one at that. This summer he guided me to my very first Northern pike.

Now THIS Is Love

A couple months ago, I blogged about showing love. I'd asked Boy #1 how he knows his Mom loves him and his answer was, "Because she takes me fishing."

I thought of that at 6:15 this morning as I sped across a lake, cool -- no, make that cold -- mist spraying in my face. It was the last morning of our Up North vacation and I was huddled inside two sweatshirts and a jacket, sitting on a not-quite-wet-yet-towel in a motorboat piloted by my 11-year-old son. Trust me when I say this is not how I would normally choose to spend a morning.

By nature, I am more of a night person. By nature, I am more of an indoors kind of girl. By nature, I will choose my warm bed and a book over almost anything.

But there I was, out on the lake, wind whipping at my back, prepared to spend one-and-a-half hours casting lures into a lake that hadn't yielded anything to me but weeds (and an excellent encounter with a loon.) Why? Because I love my son and my son loves fishing.

It was not the morning he wanted it to be. He was dying to catch a musky, the elusive fish of 10,000 casts that had eluded him all week. He never did catch a musky -- but I caught my very first Northern, an 18 1/2 inch fish that was the biggest fish I'd ever caught. (It was also the first fish I've ever held. Boy, are those things slippery!)

I never would have caught that fish without my son. He guided me to the site, put on the bait and showed me how to cast and retrieve my lure. He also netted the fish, removed the hook and helped me release it safely into the water.

Most importantly, though, he got me out on the water. Never in a thousand years would I have seen the mist over the lake at sunrise, or felt the strength of a fish at the end of my line, if not for my son. If not for my son -- my sons -- my world would be a much poorer place, in so many ways.

Boy #1, I love you. Thanks for showing me the world.

How have your sons expanded your world?

Snapshot Sunday: In Honor of all the Dads

This pic, to me, is what Dads are all about. You can't really see my husband -- he's more of a background-guy here than anything else -- but that smile and that fish? All because of him.

Dads often toil in the background, doing the life equivalent of setting up the line, finding the perfect fishing spot and waiting (before helping to set the hook), but without them, our sons wouldn't catch nearly as many fish.

Hats off to the Dads. Thanks for all you do.

The Milwaukee Musky Expo

Yesterday, Son #1 and I went to the Milwaukee Musky Expo.

I am not a fisherman (or woman) by any means. I still squirm while putting a worm on the hook, simply because the worm wiggles and squiggles and I know I'm inflicting pain on another living being.

On my own, I would never in a million years voluntarily spend my day at a Musky Expo. But with my son? It was magical.

From the time we walked into the exhibit hall, my son's eyes were wide open. He was clearly in his element. And that, for me, was the magic: I had the opportunity to see my son in a world that was his. In the world of musky fishing, he is the expert and the guide; I am merely along for the ride.

We wandered up and down the aisles, attended a musky fishing seminar by Tom Gelb (did you have any idea how much science is in musky fishing? Tom measures and records the temp at various depths and tracks the moon to decide where and when to fish), and met a number of wonderful people.

Musky fisherman -- at least those who were there -- are an incredibly welcoming bunch, eager to nurture the next generation. We talked at length to the national representative of Muskies, Inc., who referred us to the Milwaukee chapter representative a few booths over. We met and chatted with Dale MacNair, a Canadian fisherman who recently caught a MONSTER musky. A young-looking sales rep chatted with us and we learned that the 21-year-old runs his own guide service (since age 16), fishes on the pro tournament circuit and attends college, majoring in business. A fishing guide offered Son #1 a free day out on the lake when we're up North this summer, and the editor of Musky Hunter magazine said he'd take a look at an article by Son #1.

Every single one of these gentleman encouraged my son, gave him a business card, and told him to contact them if he has any questions.

Thank you, gentleman, for speaking to my son as an equal. Thank you for sharing your knowledge and expertise, for reaching out a hand to the next generation. Thank you for encouraging a young boy's hopes and dreams and for showing him the way.

But I don't WANT to be Drawn In!

This story just strikes me the wrong way.

I get the school administration's point, I really do. For each child they get enrolled in the district, they get cash, plain and simple. And let's face it: local school districts are facing financial difficulties, so every dollar counts.

But the mere proposal also points to the fact that those same administrators really don't get my point, which is that I DON'T WANT SOMEONE ELSE DECIDING WHAT MY KIDS NEED TO LEARN (and when and where and how...). It clearly shows they don't understand that some of us, anyway, value independence and personal freedom far, far above "instructional materials and....other supplementary materials."

For me, homeschool isn't simply about being home, about keeping my boys in the same physical space as me. Homeschooling is about tailoring their environment to them. Homeschooling is about nurturing and supporting my boys' development, in whatever ways fit at the time. Homeschooling means my son can learn science and geography while fishing. That physics can be explored rolling marbles down the stairs. And that my sons and I can move forward or back -- or leap ahead bounds at a time -- if it suits our needs.

I, for one, do NOT want my sons to have to adhere to the one-size-fits-all public school curriculum. That, dear school administrators, is why we're homeschooling in the first place.

Learning 'bout Lakes

Lake-link.com is the latest learning tool in our house. My oldest son, the fishing fanatic, found it on the recommendation of an adult fishing buddy. The site lists fishing conditions at area lakes, including ice thickness and fishing activity, and for a budding fisherman like mine, is a goldmine of information.

But yesterday was the breakthrough. Yesterday, he found information about Mayville pond -- upper and Mayville pond -- lower, parts of the Rock River he fishes regularly. He found stocking information, and within a few hours, his view of the river as a "carp-infested rat hole" had changed. He realized there WERE good fish in the river. And the more he thought about it, the more he realized it was his fishing tactics, not a lack of fish, that were the cause of his less-then-stellar catches. At 11:00 last night, as I was getting ready for bed, he burst into the bathroom to inform me that the problem was HIM! That fishing mid-day and in just a few feet of water is no way to catch the big fish.

Finally, it was all coming together: all the years of fishing, the fishing books he's read and the hours he's devoted to watching fishing shows on TV. Lake-link.com was the source he needed to pull it all together.