Thank God all of that awful college football is over. It was really stressing out the kindergartener in this house. Garrett is of a peaceful, non-warring species, like his mother. To see two teams clashing violently on the gridiron was really giving him some serious anxiety. He's an odd little bird. He's always loved wrestling and playing "tackle daddy" in the backyard, but seeing the real thing on tv is different, I guess. It's just too much conflict and barbarity for him to take in.

These three boys are no stranger to the fine art of tackling, let me tell you. When we play football together - it's usually Bodie and me against the two bigger boys - and it gets pretty rough. When I get the ball, Gavin and Garrett each grab a leg to try to take me down, then Bodie (my faithful teammate) punches me in the pills then jumps on my head as I double over in pain. It's a lot of fun.

I noticed Garrett's football angst earlier this year when we were watching the Cornhusker vs. Wisconsin Badger game. He was sitting on the couch with a look of serious discomfort on his face, a look similar to a squeamish person watching a live surgery. I asked him what was wrong, he said simply "I don't like all that tackling the Huskers are doing." I told him it's just part of the game, it's fun for them - just like when we play in the backyard. "They don't look like they're having fun at all," he replied solemnly.

We watched on for awhile and I tried to acquaint him with the more refined intricacies of the game: the passing, kicking, strategy, the referees (who are on the field, of course, to make sure everyone is having fun and following the rules). He marinated on this new information for awhile, then came out with this bombshell:
"Well dad, I've changed my mind about something. When I grow up I want to be an astronaut and a football player."
I cheered for this loudly and obnoxiously "WOOHOO! That's my BOY!!"
He stops me with sober look and a little 5 year old hand on my knee. "BUT, I'm going to play for the Wisconsin Badgers so I can stop the Huskers from doing all that naughty tackling."
Being a lifelong Cornhusker fan, this is a real kick in the gut. I wept openly, just as loudly and obnoxiously as before, hands over my face. Garrett observed this reaction for a moment, thoughtfully. Then with a hug he added again quietly, "Don't worry dad, I won't be THAT good… only when I play against Gavin. If he is on the other team, I will really tackle him down."

The boys are super excited about Halloween this year. Gavin said it is his favorite holiday, but we'll see if it takes a backseat to Christmas in a month.

Sara asked the boys what they wanted to be this time, and Gavin knew right away. "A spooky ghost!" he said. Great! That's about as simple as it gets. Garrett, always the contrarian, wants to be "A goose." A ghost and a goose are very similar in Garrett's mind, but with his silly twist. He likes everything to be just like his older brother's, but with his own little spin on it.

We searched and searched for a goose costume, but could only come up with ducks and chickens. Unfortunately, Garrett can differentiate the several species of fowl costumes we presented him with, rejecting each with a "That's not a goose." Sara had a solution.

We've had this great little spider costume from Old Navy in the attic for 2 years. It was too small for Gavin when we bought it so Sara's been anxious to use it on Garrett. When we first put him in it to try it on, he was excited. Then it slowly dawned on him that we intended for him not to be a goose, but rather a spider. He stomped around the house in that little costume for awhile, unleashing a torrent of objections and grievances, but finally he has accepted the costume and is happy with it. I hope.

Gavin's artwork of late is almost always Halloween themed. This is a great one he did of himself, trick-or-treating and scaring everyone! The black shape in the corner is a flying bat with wings in motion, and the pumpkin is a pumpkin house with candy inside, of course! He also tore all 4 edges of the paper in a fringe-like fashion to make it more "scary".

Our big, nice climbing tree came down last night in the wind. The boys haven't seen it yet, they're at Grammy and Papa Geno's with Sara. I'm not sure if I should cut it up and take it away before they get back, or should I let it lay there on it's side for the boys to see. It's a Wax Myrtle, which is a very common tree here that grows like a weed. These trees can withstand almost any storm, which is why I was so surprised to see this one laying prone when I let Laya (the cat) out this morning. This one's been through a bunch of hurricanes, but I think my pruning is what did it in. It was already listing heavily to the port side, but then I made it too top heavy in an effort to make the lower branches more climbable for the boys. 

Climbing trees is so much fun when you're a kid. I remember seeing every tree as a new conquest when I was young. I wanted to be  like Tarzan or Mowgli in Jungle Book. Any tree could be a secret hideout. If you could just get up inside the canopy, you could escape the real world for just a little while and have your own piece of the planet. Gavin loved to climb this tree. Actually, he just liked to sit in it, about 3 feet off the ground, and look around  the backyard like the king of the world.

Gavin and Garrett mostly used this tree as a race track or train track, whichever vehicle they were currently employing. The long, low swooping branches made for great take off runways for airplanes, too. These boys could play for an hour straight at the tree, and Sara could see them from the kitchen or back door and hear their happy sounds.

Now I'm forced to make a decision. This tree was a big part of these kids' lives. It's almost like a family pet who has passed away. I think I must cut it up and take it away today. If the boys come home and the tree is laying here like a beached whale, it would be very hard to explain. If they come home and the tree is just gone, it would be traumatic. On the other hand, if they witness their own father lopping it limb by limb with a chainsaw, the trauma might be irreparable. 

I know what I can do, I'll make a game of it. I'll explain that the tree is going to the letter factory. I'll label each limb with a letter on a sticky note, and let the boys decide which one gets cut before I do it. They love to show off their alphabet skills. With luck this power of knowledge game will distract them from what is really happening, and they'll feel positive about this old tree's disappearance. Making a game of almost anything negative can be a real great tool when you're faced with a difficult situation! Spelling and numbers rule these boys' world right now. I'll be numbering or labeling each branch on this tree, then the boys will be so excited about which branch comes down next, they won't even know their beloved tree is being decimated. It will be another happy learning activity! Then we'll go find a suitable replacement.