On March 23, 2013, Jack graduated from UCSD with a masters degree in theater arts...sound familiar?

Well, if you read act one, it should - I lead in with the same damn sentence! And that's probably all that will be similar about act two because I don't have a witty (yes, I'm always witty) story to tell about the actual graduation ceremony.

I will reiterate that it wasn't the expected pomp and circumstance of your typical graduation ceremony. Nope, it wasn't. I don't have any photos but before the handing out of diplomas, we were all encouraged to mill around the auditorium and admire the portfolios from graduates in costume design, direction, sound, and choreography. It was all very inspiring and creative and fascinating. Who knew that you could get an advanced degree in creating believable wind noises? Seriously, I feel cheated. I can blow across the top of an empty beer bottle like nobody's business!

Anyway, let me set the scene:

A handsome young man with a strong, chiseled jaw and a contagious smile paces through the university auditorium in a sleek suit finished with a skinny tie. His family - grandparents, parents, sister and her (amazingly awesome) family chat amongst themselves and with the families of other prospective graduates. Everyone waits for the ceremony to commence. The thick auditorium air pluses with excitement. The handsome young man has waited three years for this moment. Plus, the pressure is on - each graduate is given the opportunity to express their gratitude for not only for their learning experience but also for the people who supported them along their journey.

That's right Jack, we've been cooking you dinners for years, buying all the booze, and we drove 15 hours to get here so you'd better have something nice to say about us!

And he did! Jack had lovely things to say about all of us - grandparents, parents, sister, brother-in-law, and of course, the brother who couldn't be there - we all got a shout out. Apparently Jack loves us and has nice things to say about us - at least when it's expected and other people are listening.

Anyway, here are a lot of pictures of handsome Jack and a few of the rest of us.



This is probably an overshare, but here's what I like best about my littlest brother:

Whenever I let myself wallow in the fact that I grew up to be a state employee rather than an artist, I turn to Jack. And instead of telling me to pull myself together, he reminds me that deep down he can see the free spirit I long to be. That I write and photograph in a way that is unique to me and entertaining to other people. That we (the collective we) create in many ways that should not be defined. And then I feel better. And then I go to work and make Idaho a better place to be, 'cause that's important too. And then I come home and take pictures of my babies - equally as important, especially to me.

Also, the second thing I like best about Jack is that he played dress up well into his tweens whereas Dylan pretty much shut me down when he reached 3rd grade.

Jack.

We spent most of August hurriedly marking family outings off our summer to-do list.

First stop was Les Bois Park to watch some horse racing. Henry had wanted to visit the park last summer but we never found the time. It cost 0 bucks for us to enter the park and we left with 20 of the 40 dollars we took for snacks and bets. I'd call the two hours we spent watching the horses a superfecta win!



A week to the day following our visit to the track, we rode our bikes to the baseball field and took in a Hawks game. The Hawks won and the boys scored some miniature ball caps as souvenirs. It was one homerun of an evening!



A few days later, we mounted our bikes again and rode all the way to town to join the Tour de Fat bike parade. The boys dressed up as cowboys. Well, kinda. They looked more like hicks with their cutoff jean shorts and boy-tanks (remember how there were no "nice shirts" for the first day of school?) but I didn't want them to overheat in regular cowboy clothes - it gets hot in August. They were also sporting penciled in mustaches and cap guns courtesy of the Best Mom Ever!



We also spent a Saturday night at the Western Idaho Fair but I've probably left you with enough photos for one post.

So second grade started on Monday. No big deal. Wyatt kept asking why I cared so much. They're just seven. It's just second grade. No big deal, Mom.

And Wyatt was right, it was no big deal. Old hat. Been there, done that. Get off my back and just let me go to school, Mom!

In fact, the biggest deal was probably their first-day-of-school-outfits, which I want everyone to know had absolutely nothing to do with me. I could have given a shit about what they wore on the first day of school just so long as they were clean and didn't smell like stinky belly button lint. Stephen, on the other hand, laid down the parental law over their clothing selections. Now, some of you might think this is out of character for an easygoing, laid back fellow like Stephen - but you'd be wrong.

You'd be wrong because Stephen has a tendency to get hung up on random particulars like clothing or hairstyles. For example, and speaking of hairstyles, through the entire spring Stephen was adamant that the boys not cut their hair. He would not even entertain the idea that they have short hair. He was (and still is) growing his hair long. Long hair is cool. Long hair is counterculture. Long hair is alternative (but shhh, don't tell Stephen I told you that, he's so far beyond the hipsters). And by God, his boys were going to join him in his long hair statement!

I know. I suspect you're confused, but it's true. His preferences make no sense and Henry and Wyatt will just have to learn how to deal with it. But really, it could be worse. He could insist that they learn how yodel or learn how to recite the alphabet backward, which could really benefit them in the long run because we all know that that skill might inevitably come in handy. I hope not, but I am a realist.

Anyway, on Sunday night, when the boys were laying out their first-day-of-school-outfits, Stephen insisted that they wear "nice clothes" rather than their standard graphic tees. Short story long, this caused some problems because they don't have any "nice clothes". Nope, they've got a lot of graphic tees from Old Navy and the thrift store. Which is totally fine! Has anyone ever seen the thrifted shirts in Stephen's rotation - he's got no room to talk! No room!

Anyway again, Wyatt ended up wearing a collared shirt from last year and Henry ended up with a graphic tee purchased within the last two weeks but only because I cut off the sleeves of the other two "nice collared shirts" for the Tour de Fat (maybe I'll find the time to write about why) and because I told Stephen that Henry would be too hot in both a long sleeved shirt and long pants (it sounds like common sense but the more I hang out with Stephen, the more I realize just how smart I am).

Really, I need to wrap this up, so the take home here is that, as parents, we are inconsistent and make no sense. Second take home, my boys are beautiful regardless of their clothing and I love them a whole bunch. Third take home, husbands are silly and we should not pay too much attention to them, especially when it comes to fashion. Fourth take home, Stephen and I have successfully made it this far and we are just as proud of ourselves as we are as proud of them.



Side note: Henry currently has short hair while Wyatt has long hair. Henry got a haircut in June. For practical reasons, Henry had been asking for a haircut to remove the hair from his eyes since mid-March. In June, after both boys came home from the Boys and Girls Club confused as to why other children kept asking whether they were boys or girls, I took Henry to the nearest beauty school for a trim - but not because he was being made fun of! At the same time, Wyatt was given the option of cutting his hair but chose to stay strong, like his dad.

And that's that. Happy new school year!!

On March 23, 2013, Jack graduated from UCSD with a masters degree in theater arts. I think. If that's not his exact title, it's something very close to that. His graduation just happened to coincide with spring break - kinda. In order to actually get there for the ceremony, we had to leave two whole days before spring break actually started because let me tell you, driving from Boise to San Diego is no quick trip!

Nope, it's a real long trip. Real long. Let me set the scene for you:

An attractive and moderately well-groomed family of four is traveling across the Nevada dessert in a 2010 Subaru Forester. It's late afternoon. The parents have minimal snacks for the children, no plan for dinner, and no hotel reservation, although at some point they will have to stop for the evening. They eat a shitty dinner from subway while driving into the setting sun. The father continues to ask the mother to drive but she pretends to have temporarily lost her hearing. They eventually agree to spend the night in Las Vegas thinking they will be able to find a room at the Flamingo for about $75 using the same Players Card that allowed them to stay at Harrah's in Reno for just $30. They were wrong.

Cue the first of many fights between the parents for the next 16 hours.

The mother calls the Flamingo only to be told that the cheapest room available is $275. The parents then remember that they are not the only people traveling during spring break. After a few phone calls to low budget and completely booked hotels, a bit of driving aimlessly away from The Strip, and a bit of shouting followed by the silent treatment from both parents, the attractive and now irritable family of four find themselves at the Gold Strike Hotel in Jean, Nevada where the rooms are just $40 a night and the hot tub is open until 11 pm giving them one hour to soak away their sorrows.



And that's how we started our spring break trip two days early. The next day I drove from Jean to San Diego and I was not very happy about it. I don't care for driving and I especially don't care for driving in California where everyone with a car is an asshole with a capital A! I stopped talking to Stephen somewhere near Barstow and Henry and Wyatt were not allowed to speak louder than a whisper for an entire five hours lest my concentration be disrupted. By the time we made it to the rental house my clothes were drenched in sweat and my shoulders were knotted beyond repair. And Stephen - the man who should have been driving because that's what men do - was not my favorite person until I'd had dinner and wine much later in day.

But really, the whole point of this story is to tell you about Jack's graduation, which was not your typical cap and gown BS. Quite the contrary. The weekend started with a dance performance followed by a dry run of something called The Showcase. So around 4 or 5 pm on Friday afternoon we headed over to the theater department (or some artsy building on campus) and watched Jack dance with his seven fellow graduates.



He's pretty good. I got a little teary eyed watching him because A number 1) I was just so proud of him and B number 2) I totally regret giving up dancing and it makes me a little sad to think about that ridiculous decision.

Anyway, after the performance, family members were invited to join the dancing.  Jack danced with my mom and grandmother. I danced with Henry but he wasn't what I would call a willing participant.



There was about an hour break between the dance performance and The Showcase so we all bumbled around the campus waiting for the second part of the evening to begin. There wasn't much to do but sit in this extra large and extra red but very artistic chair. And make sour faces at everyone, including the camera.



Finally it was time for The Showcase! Jack had warned me beforehand that almost all 14 performances offered a healthy dose profanity, vulgarity, or sexuality in some way. He, in particular, was in one of the most provocative pieces and would be demonstrating his range of profanity, vulgarity, and sexuality for the audience. There was definitely going to be some adult material. I told him that it was cool and plopped my two seven-year old children in the front row between myself and Dana.

And it was cool. But afterward I still felt compelled to explain my belief that it is necessary for me to expose my children to the arts in all forms. My mom told me she completely agreed and indicated (in a nonverbal way) that I didn't need to worry about what other people thought about my parenting decisions. Or maybe she just wanted me to stop talking. Either way, Jack gave two very moving performances and am I glad we were able to participate in the Friday evening activities.



Presumably there are two more acts just waiting the wings...but you all see how frequently I post these days. Plus, Jack graduated in March, I started writing this post in June, and it's now mid-August. Add up all those factors and it may be another six months before I post Act Two. Point being, that as much as I look forward to sharing these stories, I just want to make sure that your expectations are appropriately low!