3 months, 21 days and counting...

At the beginning of snow season four boys = 8 boots, 4 hats, 8 mittens or gloves, 4 pairs of snow pants - all neat and new and clean. The first snowfall changes a bleak, muddy backyard into a endless field of snowy white goodness. The excitement builds. Sleds are hauled down from the garage rafters. Ice hockey skates are readied. Plans are made with all the neighborhood buddies to snowboard, sled, skate and snowball fight. And then, they're out the door.

One month into snow season I give one boy my own pair of snowpants, he managed to blow the knee out of his own sledding down a hill into a rock.

One boy has one glove and one mitten in two different colors rescued from the miscellaneous winter item bin I've been collecting for 13 years.

Hats are seemingly either too small or much too large, from what I guess is the pushing, pulling and grabbing of some sort of snow tackle football.

The rug by my front door is a slushy, muddy mess.

My backyard is no longer a beautiful, pristine expanse of snowy white snow. It's covered with boot tracks, sled tracks, dog tracks, a wayward sled and piles of ice-balls.

And all this in the first solid month of winter. I have 3 months and 21 days until the first chance of spring thaw. However...

It's 7:50 p.m. My boys are exhausted, one is already asleep and the others are actually quietly watching a movie and getting along with each other. Even the dogs are too tired to beg for treats. I guess I'll make it through another winter, even if I have to buy another pair of snowpants.

Home Again

4 bags dirty laundry to wash and dry outdoors in the morning sun.

6 dirty SIGGS ready for the dishwasher.

1 bushel of peaches ready for canning, freezing and eating.

12 sandy water shoes needing a rinsing in leftover canning water.

2 tired dogs home from the kennel, ready for baths using new bar of all natural and local pet soap.

4 tired boys, exhausted from tree swings, tree houses, sand dune hiking, boogie board riding, kayak paddling, prank-pulling, sand castle building, late night bonfires, Michael Phelps watching, gold medal dreaming and ice cream eating.

1 mom, with time to spend with her boys, enjoying the fresh air, sail boats and sunshine? Priceless.

Happy to be home? Definitely!!

Uh-Oh... You're in Trouble!

You betcha', it happens. My perfect little green-cherubs, the eco 'burban boys, mess up. Oh, wait... we're talking about my boys here, sorry 'bout that! Wrong house, the cherubs live next door. Anywho, my boys, you know the ones - loud, stinky and somewhat embarrassing from time to time - make 'bad choices' on occasion. This time the offender is one of the ones in the middle and he messed it up pretty good this time.

We're pretty interesting parents, we aren't yellers, threateners or spankers and we don't always parent by the rule book. We are more apt to giggle at someones offenses in private and watch them squirm for a few days before we let them know we are on to their game. Yes, this means we are a little deceptive, but I have to tell you it's a lot more fun than yelling, screaming and pitching a big 'ol fit. And, the bonus is that they never reeeeally know if they've gotten away with anything or not, which once your kids hit middle school you gotta keep them thinking you are still way smarter than they think.

Which leads me to greener punishments. Funny concept, I know, but hear me out. Many people talk about reading the 'Last Child in the Woods' or how their children don't get enough fresh air or exercise. For the most part my boys are very, very active but about this time every summer "Sedentary-Disease" starts to settle in. August is a tough month. Tired of all their summer friends, swimming in the lake is passe, the park is 'stoopid' and all the cool kids are on vacation. Sitting on the sofa, air conditioning blasting, TV on in one year, iPod in the other, they sit and grow roots.

Well, then, just wait until you need a punishment, my friend, a good green momma can fix you right up. The soon-to-be-a-middle-schooler decided he would dip his toe into the big pool of 'Let's see if I can trick mom and dad' and let me tell - you he can't swim. So, rather than take away the coveted Nintendo, hand out a grouding or stash the iPod on top of the fridge the eco 'burban dad and I conspired. Can we find a healthier punishment that a) teaches him a lesson while getting him off his butt and b) benefits the eco 'burban parents?

The eco 'burban offender's punishment? Rather than being grounded, staying in the house while the rest get exercise and fresh air, he gets to spend 30 minutes in the morning and 3o minutes in the evening walking Tahoe 'the spotted wonder' for a grand 7 days. It's hot outside, and humid, and lonely when you can't take a brother along or stop at your friend's house or dash to the corner store for a treat or listen to your iPod while you walk. It also gives him a lot of time to think, get some exercise and gets him out of the house. The dog gets double the exercise he would get in day, so he is happy and tired - which mean momma is happy. We all win. And, my boys still think I'm on to their games. Ssssh, don't tell them my tricks!

A Fish Called Mystery

This is not about mystery meat found in my boy's cafeteria or weird, mystery-content breaded fish sticks. This is actually a story about a fish lucky enough to be named Mystery.

I feel pretty bad for your average goldfish. What other species of animal can be bought for 29-cents at any local petstore or mega-chain and then humiliated in ping pong ball tosses, gutter races and fraternity eating contests? If a dog was getting this treatment, you would find the ASPCA on the doorstop and even if it was a cat, horse or rabbit you might find the offender featured on Animal Cops on the Animal Planet channel.

That's just not so for the unlucky goldfish. At a beach party over the weekend, the day started as a fun event for little kids. Cookie walks, scavenger hunts, swimming, swinging and sliding. And then I saw it. A guy lifts a giant, clear bag out of a cooler, the plastic glinting in the sun full of wiggling goldfish. Oh, no, here comes the ridiculous humiliation of gold fish in a gutter race. Sheesh.

For the most part, I try not to freak out about the small things. I allow my kids the pizza and lemonade once a week for school lunch, the occasional treat from the corner store and candy at the baseball games. However, animal cruelty in any form - that's just not happening, even to a goldfish.

Is this how our species learned to tolerate feedlot farms of cows 100 to a pen standing in their own manure? Or to accept eggs from chickens confined to a pen so small they can't turn around? Was it because we lost touch with the basic concept of respect for another living thing? No, the goldfish won't play fetch or chase a fuzzy toy mouse, but does it deserve to be thrown into icy cold hose water and shoved down a little gutter for our amusement? I look around and no one seems surprised or bothered in the slightest - parent or child - and this upsets me. Someone hands my son a plastic cup with a fish floating listlessly in sediment orange-tinted hose water and tells him "Go Race!"

All of four years old my son looks up at my face. Mom, what is his name? I don't know, I tell him. What do you think it is? His little voice says quietly, his name is a mystery because I don't know where he came from. I say, I don't think he should race, do you? Fish aren't meant for racing, you see, they are little and fragile so let's keep him safe and warm him up, OK? The fish stayed at our table, refreshed with room temperature bottled water and the boy had much more fun watching his new friend than playing any game.

Mystery, the fish, now resides in a castle in a comfortable bowl filled with clean water on our kitchen table. If taking care of a fish for awhile teaches my son to respect all living things, no matter how small, it will be well worth the effort. Mystery, my friend, you sure did get lucky to find us!

No worries, be happy

When we decided to take a vacation, I thought it was the perfect time to leave the computer behind and completely disconnect. Eek?!? No laptop? No internet access? I can handle it! I also decided to take a mental break from "green".

No, I didn't act like a pig a leave every light in the hotel on and smother myself in Cheez Whiz! Come on, don't you know me by now? I thought it would be wise to take a break from freaking out if there wasn't a recycling bin nearby and keeping myself from panicking reading the restaurant menus chock full of CAFO meats. Some times all the agonizing and debating and worry about foods, landfills, energy and global warming can hang a little heavy over my head and those of my boys. Vacations, by definition, are a way to recharge your batteries, spend time with the ones you love and take a break from your worries.

Yes, we turned off the tap when brushing our teeth, reused our towels, turned off the lights, kept the same sheets for the entire stay, drank out of reusable bottles whenever possible and walked to dinner and the driving range. We even brought home a few magazines and papers for the recycling bin, but for the most part I had to let go. While it was hard, I relaxed and enjoyed watching my boys spend the entire day outdoors playing golf, tennis, basketball and swimming. They hiked trails and admired the forest view from our balcony and the night sky with stars so bright without a backdrop of city lights.

That is an important part of being green in my eyes. Teaching your children to appreciate the great outdoors, the sunshine, the rain, the forest and all the bugs and critters hanging out in there. This way, when we are home and they ask why we turn the heat down, why the air conditioning is off, why we don't eat fast food or fruit roll ups I can ask them to remember our trip. Don't they want to enjoy these things for years to come? Will they one day want to take their boys to the woods, the golf course, the hiking trails? Take care of mother nature, be kind to our planet and it will be there for you when you when it's your turn to teach your children how to hit a golf ball, dive from a diving board or perfect a lay-up on the basketball court. I took a brief intermission from the worry, and I was happy. Tomorrow is another day!

Political Observations of Boys

It's funny, sometimes when you are very, very quiet your kids just forget you're there. That's when you hear the funniest (and sometimes juiciest) things. Today, while driving in my loaner mini-van I overheard my boys having a conversation of which I can only imagine will be exactly how they will sound as old men, sitting on their patio.

Why is the price of gas so high? Look it's $4.29 right over there.

I dunno, I think it's cause of President Bush. Haven't you noticed that gas has gotten higher since he was president?

Yeah, it's cause he owns oil, you know, in Texas on his ranch. He's getting rich right now.

He LOVES oil. Like, tons. That's why we are in that war. And all those guys died. Hey, what woulda happened if Bush died?

Stupid, he would get to pick a vice president to take over.

No, you're stupid. How could he pick a new president if he was DEAD? He already picked one before he was president. That guy would take over. Who is the vice president anyway?

See, I told you that you were stupid. The vice president is Dick Cheney, you know that guy who shot the other guy in the head.

How could he be so dumb to shoot another guy? Seriously. He musta shot him with like a bb gun or something. Otherwise he would SO be in trouble.

No, it was a real gun and the guy he shot bled and everything. He was in the hospital for pretty much years.

Do you think maybe gas will get cheaper once we get Obama or McCain for president? Which one is which anyway?

Duh, they totally look different. How can you not tell? Obama is Hawaiian. McCain is the really old dude.

Well, gas better go down. When we start to drive it's totally going to suck. How are we going to afford gas?

Hey, Mom! What do you think Hillary is doing right now?

I enjoy these conversations, I listen, but I try not to participate. Sometimes you learn so much more by being quiet. What I find most fascinating is they really are absorbing the world around them. Just when I think they're not paying attention... They are actually listening.

There's your inside glimpse of the next generation of environment-changing political activists, dude. They're like, wicked cool.

Green Guys

My oldest son called me from his babysitting job on Friday night. Not because he was having trouble putting the two little ones to bed or having difficulty wrangling them into brushing their teeth. He can handle all that just fine.

He called me because he couldn't figure out what to do with the pizza box that was delivered to the front door holding their dinner. He couldn't find a recycling bin. Anywhere. He looked high and low and called me in confusion. What do I do with it? Where should I put it? Can I just leave it on the counter? I'm not throwing it in the trash. Do you want to come over and get it and put it in our bin? (He was babysitting for our next door neighbors)I explained to him that not every family recycles and you might just need to leave it on the counter for the parents to decide where to put it. He was surprised to find out that a concept as simple as recycling isn't embraced by everyone. This is the first of many learning curves I am sure he will encounter as he goes out to babysit, date or hang out with friends. Not everyone recycles. Not everyone avoids high fructose corn syrup like the plague. Not everyone believes in global warming. Not everyone thinks you should support your local farmer buying funny looking meat, cheese and bread in label-less packages.

My son left that pizza box on the counter. He held firm to his beliefs that you don't throw cardboard in the trash and he just wasn't doing it. I hope that this is the first of many steps he takes to create his own "green guy" stance. I am sure he heard my voice rambling in the back of his brain about landfills, decomposition, global warming and garbage. I hope my voice isn't someday replaced by girlfriends, buddies and peers that tell him, "Dude, like, just throw it in the trash, who cares, we're in a hurry". I hope my son is the one who tells them, "Dude, you can't just throw that in the trash! That will be there for like 700 years, what were you thinking?"