Is that a bush?

Michael is not a conventional kid. He and his long time friends - Teddy & Roman since kindergarten - had decided that they wanted to play in the woods with air-soft guns and shoot plastic pellets at one another. One birthday party at paint ball and they were hooked on this outdoor adventure in pretend warfare. They spent the entire summer between grade 7 and 8 building a field just behind the graveyard in the neighbourhood. At one point they had even set up a web-site to sell tickets for others to use their guns and the field. I guess they figured they could make some money. I don't think that ever happened.

Anyway, the upshot of the above information is that part of this game is being able to hide effectively. I remember even when he was still in elementary school, being able to sneak up on me and scare me was a very big deal. As he got older and played video games that included 'hiding' - mostly war games; yes I know... you can judge me if you want, but boys will make guns out of rocks (mine did out of Lego), I just figured that they might as well actually play with 'real' ones - he began to call this technique 'stealth' or the even cuter 'stealthing' (I love it when they say things that aren't words and insist that they are). This new game of air-soft required more sophistication than just being ultra quiet while lying in the grass or hiding behind a tree or bush. This began Michael's search for a better way to hide. He found one and had to have it. It took him a couple of months of saving his paper route check, but he bought a $100 ghillie suit from the local military and outdoor supply store. Really, you should see this thing. When he's wearing it you really have to wonder - is that a bush?

One afternoon we had the youth group at our house for a BBQ and some gaming fun. Michael's air-soft buddies came late just as the fun was winding down. Before I knew it they were no where to be found and I was saying goodbye to all the other guests and the youth leaders on my own. I was standing on the driveway chatting with our youth pastor and one youth sponsor. Suddenly Michael and his friend Teddy came running down into our cul-de-sac. They looked scared and were yelling and carrying on about something I could not understand.

"What is going on?" I grabbed Michael by the shoulders to hold him still.
"We were playing in the intersection," gasping for air he continued, "taking turns wearing the ghillie suit and pressing the walk sign to stop traffic and then freak-out the stopped cars as we'd run through the crosswalk."
"You were what!?"
"Mom, it's fine; but one guy got really mad and he's coming after us."

This conversation went a whole lot quicker than that; because within ten to fifteen seconds a car came riping into our street and pulled into the driveway. Michael and Teddy quickly got behind me - as if I could save them. His window was rolled down and his entire torso sticking out the top portion of the door. Now, if you don't like swearing, don't read the next line.

"What the f*%k was that thing! I'm gonna kill you a$$holes!" He really was mad.

"Excuse me, is there something I can help you with?" I tried to sound calm.

I didn't even address his first question hoping that he would see that I was older than him and decide to turn and leave. He proceeded to explain to me how this walking bush scared him half to death and that he wanted to get his hands on whoever that was because it wasn't funny. But he apparently couldn't find the walking bush; it had disappeared. He saw these two behind me running, so he chased them. I was about to say something brilliant in regards to his query and how he should deal with it when something caught my eye. I couldn't help but look up as the walking bush came bounding into the cul-de-sac. It had been Roman's turn to scare the innocent motorists, and in true style he was not just walking into view but literally bouncing from one foot to the other like a frolicking sasquatch.

Our irate friend in the car saw my eyes wonder to the top of the street and was off.
"There's the little f#@%*r! Now I'll get you!"

I didn't know what to do. His car squealed around the circle and back to the top of our street. Roman bounced into the empty lot directly across from our house and lay flat on his stomach. I don't know why the driver didn't get out and go in and find him. All he did was stop, try and see him on the ground, swear something about not being able to see him, and then drove away. I was relieved.

Now remember, the youth pastor is still standing there with one of his youth sponsor. I turn and looked at him and his eyes were wide open.

"Don't worry about it. This happens all the time. Really... never a dull moment around here." I think maybe he didn't believe me. Then again, if he did, that might be worse.

The Pastor Picked Him Up

My oldest son is volunteering with our children's ministry coordinator (CMC) who is teaching a hip hop dance class to elementary school aged kids. It's a great opportunity and experience for him. Michael is really into dance and this whole world is completely foreign to me. What I do know about it comes from some wild days in the clubs (those stories would be for another kind of blog), and a bit of 'choreography' I did for a college and career choir performance back at Willingdon Church - when they weren't so big and professional. Anyway, this story is about Michael, or senior junior as we often call him.

In an effort to allow the sixteen year old to discover how to run his own life while I still have him under my roof, I did not try to organize how this volunteer experience would go. Our CMC assured me that he would sort it out with Michael. This proved to be a bad plan.

One week before the start of the class, senior junior informs me that the class starts at 3:30pm; his classes at school don't end until 3:20pm. His high school is a good fifteen minute drive to the church on a good traffic day - which will not happen very often in the middle of the week. Already I'm not happy and question him as to why he didn't inform the CMC that he has a conflict with the time. Apparently he didn't want to be difficult. He felt it would be better to just miss the last 20-40 minutes of his last class. No, not happening. This is further complicated by the fact that if I get called into work how is he going to get there at all? Senior Junior says that the CMC will pick him up - "its not a problem mom." After calling the CMC to inform him of the conflict, I'm still left with a situation that is unresolved. The time is not likely going to be able to be changed. The CMC still maintains that he will pick Michael up at 3:20pm to bring him to the church. OK, hands off then.

Now senior junior tells me that I need to bring him his 'stuff'. What 'stuff' do you need? My dancing clothes and shoes. He has dancing clothes? This I was not aware of. Just put it in your locker at school and then you'll have it with you when the CMC comes to get you. He now informs me that his lock is broken on his locker and he doesn't use it anymore. How long has that been the case? He doesn't know, but apparently it takes such a long time to get anyone at school to do anything about it, it's not worth trying to get it sorted out. AH!! Reluctantly I agree to take his backpack of 'stuff' in my van and bring it to the church as soon as I can. I keep thinking that if I get called in that day, he won't even get his 'stuff'. I do so much driving back and forth it seems stupid to drive to the church with his stuff only to have to turn around and get the girl from wrestling and then go back to get senior junior from the church again. Oh man, these kids need to take the bus.

Anyway, the day of the first hip hop class rolls around. I'm picking up the youngest boy at school and he's playing in the school yard with his buds. I'm chatting with some moms and then realize that it's time to go and get senior junior his 'stuff'. As I'm driving and about half way there my cell rings. I had forgotten to put the hands free mic on and so I'm scrambling to plug it in so I can answer - which is probably worse than just picking up my phone and answering it! Stupid legislation to stop us from talking on the phone! Anyway, it's senior junior; the CMC is not there yet. It's already 3:25pm. OK, don't panic, he's late. Just stay put, I'll go to the church and if he's in the gym then I guess I'll turn around and go get him. I get there and sure enough the CMC is in the gym starting the class. Now I'm mad. This is ridiculous. I start to head back to the van and our worship pastor calls out to me.
"Maria, don't worry about it. Pastor Doug has gone to get him."
What!?
Are you kidding! The Senior Pastor has gone to get my teenage son from school so he can help out with some class!? NO! Not only that, my son had arranged for a couple of his rag tag dance friends to come along as well. The Senior Pastor is picking up a few teenage boys because I didn't and the CMC couldn't. To top it all off, I hadn't even worked that day! I was at home, available to make the pick up myself. I was so embarrassed.

When they showed up I apologized for not getting Michael there. He was so kind and said not to worry. Ah... I tell you, what was I thinking? Maybe this story is more about me than the kids. Maybe it's not even funny. But I am laughing now.

Leaving organizational plans up to a sixteen year old boy... bad idea.

Swallowed

Ryan is nine in February. On Monday night he was in his room, bathed, teeth brushed, pj's on, prayed with, and tucked in; thirty minutes later he comes slowly down the hall with fear written all over his face. Ryan rarely falls asleep quickly and often not until he's been in his room for two hours or more; coming out of his room is a common occurrence. Yet, being afraid and upset is not common. He came into my room while I lay on my bed watching TV.
"Mom, I swallowed one of my Magnetics balls." and then he burst into tears.
He proceeded to explain - answering my question why and how! - that he was lying on his pillow and it accidentally rolled into his mouth. I don't think so!
I got up and went down to tell his dad that I would be taking the boy to the emergency due to the swallowing of a magnetic ball.
I called my mom - a nurse - to check and see if I really needed to do that. I hate going to the hospital at night; it always takes way longer than it should. She was unsure so I called the BC nurse line.
After going through all the personal information I was connected to a nurse who then made me repeat everything I had just said to the operator - honestly.
After hearing the birth date of the boy the nurse actually remarked that you'd think that an almost nine year old would know better. I KNOW! You're telling me?!
Since I told the nurse on the phone that the ball was magnetic, I was informed that I would need to go that night to seek medical attention. I hang up.
His dad then proceeds to explain that the ball is not magnetic, it is just a metal ball. It does not stick to other metal balls or other metal objects. Apparently I had been told all of this but was not listening. So now - because I didn't give the right information to the nurse line - I had to call again to ensure that I was given the right information.
AH!
In the meantime, Ryan is dressed and ready to go. He's drinking sparkling water because he is panicking and feels unsettled in his stomach. He still looks more worried and freaked out than I've seen him in a while.
I called the nurse line again; going through all the same info - twice. I will give them credit, as they did have the information on file from the last call and so the nurse knew all the details pretty quick.
This time I was told I could wait until it 'passed' and call the doctor in the morning. If he begins to feel sick or not be able to go to the bathroom, then as the nurse put it, 'you have to go back to - he swallowed a metal ball on Monday - and take him to the doctor.' Unreal. It will take up to seven days for it to 'pass' which means I now need to investigate each poop to ensure that it does.

The boy thinks the poop deal is pretty funny. But of course! :)
Oh, and by the way - he was doing a magic trick. Well, it did disappear. He later explained that it turned out to be a really long act.