like a llama or an emu

Grant auditioned for Concert Choir, which was a bit of a struggle to get him to do, but I finally convinced him that he'd sing better music and have a better experience overall than if he stayed in Mixed Chorus with all the stoners looking for an easy art credit.  While he was waiting for his audition there was this apple-polishing scold walking around "warming up," by which I mean "putting on a one-woman show for everyone who was waiting for their audition," and she got on his case about eating a vanilla Frosty because it would ruin his range and his diaphragm, blah blah, which yeah, ice cream is not great right before you sing, but how about she stays in her lane?  Ugh, choir nerds are the worst.  Anyway, Grant completely and thoroughly crushed his audition, and they asked if he would be in Madrigals, so that's pretty cool.  Li'l Brudder!  He does have an excellent voice, if I say so myself.  I'm just so thankful that he's finally willing to sing.  Thanks to our friend Richard, who got him to learn the bass part to "Now the Day is Over" a few years ago.  

Emmett is excited about all the hard exercise they make him do at lacrosse, because he's going to get so many muscles.  He is way more into sports than I thought he would be.  I thought for sure he'd be a sedentary bookworm, but nope, he's actually pretty well-rounded.  Our children surprise us every day, do they not?  He still fights me on choir, but he's got to keep coming until he can at least be a strong part singer.  THOSE ARE THE RULES.  If he didn't want to sing he shouldn't have chosen to come to our family. 

Ike told us the other day that he's going to be a professional soccer player, so it's good to know that he's a totally normal 10-year-old boy.  He wants to build a fort/treehouse in our yard, but is facing the twin demons of resistance from the parents and lack of supplies.  No word yet on whether he's going to put a little tiny fridge in there and stock it with dijon ketchup. 

Willa wants to take gymnastics, which gives me the heebie-jeebies because it takes her down the road of wanting to be a cheerleader.  I'm sure she'll be too weird and gangly to be a cheerleader, but even so.  I don't want her value system all messed up.  If I'm not going to let Grant play football you'd better believe I'm not going to let Willa be a dancer or cheerleader. She is practicing her recital piece only about fifty times a day and I can't wait for the recital to be over.  It's the only song she'll play!  We've got to get her some new music.