Pakour Boy

We showed the boys some free running and building jumping on youtube. Weston was inspired. Donovan was too, but he's so pale, he could hardly muster putting his robe on to go outside and watch.

Suddenly our whole back yard was an obstacle course to explore. He climbed everything he could see. He jumped and leaped and rolled and bounced and he never wanted to come in!

We filmed him and snapped photos, but he never seemed tired. Once or twice he'd fall kinda funny and look up with a real serious look and then put a smile on his face and say, "I'm OK!" He loved it. He was so inspired. I was too. These guys throwing their bodies through the air... It seemed incredible, and yet the way their bodies moved seemed right. Like we have an inner knowing of human physics, or that we were intended to move so instinctively and fluidly... so trusting of our strength and balance.

I wasn't too worried for Weston, although I realized he doesn't quite know how to roll forward or backward very smoothly, only sideways. It made me wish I could enrol him in gymnastics nearby. Then in sadness I realized I would be a fool to demonstrate. I mean, I would if I had to, but I knew hitting the ground rolling for me would have been hard.

We finally watched the highlights of the U of O/USC game and were so thrilled. I kept saying, "That's right by where I grew up!" Grandma and Grandpa were there!"

Donovan drew a football picture in honor of the ducks.

When Weston would not come in after numerous promptings from his Parkour running, I finally agreed to let him run his "pattern" as he called it for some spectators. Travis, Alysa, Cassia and Leah were coming out of rehearsal and they obliged. They treated Weston like a real champion, even providing an underscore.

Yeah Weston.

I hope I can overcome my obstacles as well. Rather than seeing a wall, or a daunting task, I hope I can find a creative way to dance, leap, or crawl my way over it.

Saturated

This week has been more about trying to get healthy and do the minimum of extras so I've done very little blogging.  I'm able to sing in the show fairly well, but it's strange.  Like singing over a constant trickle at the back of your throat.

I came home to Donovan crafting and Weston dancing in the window like a mouse, in his gorilla suit that is now two sizes too small.  (We're talking wedgie time.)  

Today in the show a woman asked during my "talk show" to tell the story behind the mistletoe, which I didn't know, so I made one up about a boy chasing a little girl to the oak tree and wanting to steal a kiss.  "No, no" she said, but he insisted, claiming that the special fungus (I should have called it lichen or something else, but oh well...) the "mistletoe" had a special magic that would allow him to kiss her and be her bride!  It was a bit silly, but once I launched into it I knew there was only one way to get through: go big!  It was fun.  Then in the evening show I had a difficult one where a man asked, "What are you doing after the show?"  A lot of people laughed and I said slyly, "I have plans...(pause) but if they don't work out, I'll let you know."  Paul pretended to get upset (my husband in the show) and then I said to the man, "I hope God grants you the desires of your heart" or something like that.  It was a tough pickle because I wanted to honor the story of Yolanda but also not shame the man who was brave enough to speak out.  Funny, how that one part of the show is the most changeable, the most exciting, terrifying, and the most... real.  It's always a gift because the audience knows they're in on something unique, just for them... but often no one asks.

Alysa (a student) came to our door over supper break and sang us a little Dutch song for Sinterklaas Day.  She brought a plate of goodies and wished us a happy Christmas.  That was sweet.  Alysa doesn't usually show up at our door.  She's beautiful and strong, but she doesn't quite know it.  She's on the cusp of a real breakthrough in terms of letting her soul spill through in her acting and in life.  I'm pleased.  I just hope she gets on it.  She could be a real leader in her class.  There's so many beautiful young women in our program right now, I'm afraid some may feel shadowed.  Hummm....

Greek class is winding up and the pressure is on for performance night with coaching too.  A lot of students (myself included) are still fatigued from the day in Calgary on Monday, and they have another concert at Rosebud Church with the choir this Sunday.  Busy times.

This is now Saturday morning as I'm finishing the blog I started yesterday, and my two little ones were squashed into a small car with their hats, mittens, stuffies, and swim trunks for a party at the pool in Drum.  Again... I could just weep as I waved goodbye.  Little Weston was snuggled into the middle in a booster seat.  I hate having them swim without me.  I love swimming, and I love seeing their glee and exuberance with the slide, the rope swing, or just splashing.  And of course, I worry about them in the change room, forgetting things, slipping... ---drowning... you know, all that kind of stuff, not to mention the roads were icy last night.  Marie says they salted them, which is good.

So yeah, at least I was able to stay home and nurse my cold a bit.  The oregano oil I choked down for my sinus infection is still burning my throat a bit, but I got to do some dishes and laundry and that will help Dave feel better too.

I wish I had time to weed through all our drawers (especially the boys) and pull out things we no longer use.  I still feel the weight of an unbalanced Christmas in our part of the world.  I like to give, but now my conscience is pricked with my consumerism.  I wish I could just buy crafts that artisans make, or make all my own gifts... better get on that now for next year, I guess.

I wish my blog could be more poetic more often.  These days it feels like a streamline of thoughts where my concerns surface, but I don't have enough perspective to draw bigger connections all the time.  I guess it reveals my state and this is what I have, and I'll trust that it is still better to share it.  At least it helps me clear my head so I can have eyes for grace when it appears, even in my weaker state.  Things like: Alysa at my door and new cozy red socks.   Hummmm