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Monday, October 3, 2011

#211 = THE KINETIC KID

What a handsome young man he is!
This week my grandson Logan will be 8 years old.  He is my daughter's son and I am trying to figure out how best to describe him.  You see Logan is a lot of things, but most of all he is a wiggly, funny, ball of energy that never stops.  He goes full tilt all day.  My daughter says that he takes after his father, Patrick.  Well, according to Patrick's parents that's true. However,  my daughter, Patty, was a hand full too.  So, Logan got a double dose of wild and crazy from his parents.  







          
This kid is as sweet as they come
(once he slows down).
     
And when he slows down he often crashes,
just about anywhere (he gets this from his mom).






He can be a real goof ball ( he gets this
from his dad).






And has a flair for the dramatic ( I think he gets this from me).


                                                                          
















Logan also got a double dose of athletic ability.  My daughter was on the swim team as a young girl, and a cheer leader in high school and college (an ariel performer).  Patrick on the other hand was a sports phoneme in high school.  And, now, they both do triathlons.  
He is a terrific baseball player. 


He also plays soccer, basketball, and   
just learned how to ski.      
And, to show how well rounded he is he
is also learning how to play the guitar 
(and you should hear him singing in the
bathroom).



He is an amazing football player.



He is a terrific swimmer and entered two
triathlons this summer
(and won one of them).

He is an excellent cyclist (and here he is
on the second leg of a triathlon).







He is a strong runner
(and here he is 
on the third leg of a triathlon).

He still hadn't made up his mind
about me when I took this picture.
NOTICE THE FISTS
A LOGAN STORY:  Logan can get mad just like any kid but he isn't allowed to cuss.  One a couple of summers ago he got mad at me for disciplining him, and called me a "poopy head".  His father heard the comment and cut that short with only a look and a brief side bar.Later that evening his parents went out to dinner and a movie.  Logan didn't want to go to bed.  When I tried to make him he started to call me a "poopy head" (I could see it starting to form this word on his lips).  His eyes went up as if remembering the brief interaction with his dad and then called me a "monkey head" instead.  Of course, I didn't want to reinforce that phrase either, so I stifled a laugh.  

Since he wouldn't go to bed and kept slipping out of his room I sat in the doorway.  Logan was playing in his room, making all kinds of noise and occasionally glaring at me.  When he heard the out side door open and shut, his eyes flew open wide, his mouth went into an "O" shape and with a flying leap he landed in his bed.  Just a quickly he covered himself up and closed his eyes.  Boy, his dad sure has him under his control.

THIS IS A CLASSIC STORY ABOUT LOGAN THAT I WROTE ON  Dec. 6, 2010.
I called my daughter, Patty, to wish her and her family a Happy Thanksgiving.  I got to talk with both of the kids.  Shay (2nd grade) is all reserved and lady like.  A real sweetheart but, getting information from her is like pulling a cat through a knothole backwards.  She usually answers my questions with one word answers like,  "Good,"  or  "Fine," or "Uh Huh."   When asked what she was thankful for and she gave me the funny up and down sound (you know the one that is a kind of guttural I don't know).  However, she finally told me she was thankful for her dogs.

However, when Logan (first grade) came to the phone he was all bubbly, as usual.  I asked him what he was thankful for and he reeled off a long list of things.  Then he paused and said, “Wait...wait!   I’m thankful for my blood, too!”  Of course this caused me to break into laughter and prompted a memory of something that happened earlier. 

THE MEMORY: You see, Logan is always one minute away from a bump, scrape, or whatever.  One day I receive a call from my daughter who had to hide in her office so Logan couldn’t hear her laughing while she told me what had happened.  

Apparently, Logan was not being careful at the kitchen table (no surprise there).  He was leaning the chair back on two legs.  My daughter was in her office and heard a loud crash (not unusual when Logan’s around).  But, what WAS unusual is she heard him wailing these words, “I’m dying!  I’m dying!”

Patty sprinted into the kitchen and found Logan lying on the floor, his chin tucked into his neck and his hands desperately clutching that area.  Blood was running from between his fingers.  He was still saying over and over, "I'm dying!" 

Trying not to panic, Patty pried his fingers away to see what the damage was.  She was relieved to find that he had only hit his chin on a stair step but the wound was bleeding profusely.

Now, here’s the clincher.  Logan''s tear filled, limpid eyes looked up into his mother’s face with a concerned look and said, "I love you Mommie, I’m going to miss you.”  He plaintively said this (several times).

While administering quick first aid Patty tried to convenience him that he was not going to die.  Shay, being quite the trooper, was already at her mother’s side helping.  The two of them took Logan to the hospital for stitches (not the first and probably not the last).  

At the hospital his wonderful Aunt Debbie met them and put in several stitches.  Then she sent him on his way with a belly full of candy called Swedish Fish (that ought to calm him down!).



Happy Birthday Logan,


I want you to know that I miss you very much.  You are so much fun to be around.   You can always make me laugh.  If I lived near you I would be at every game (or event) cheering you on.

What a wonderful young man you are becoming.  You are so very talented in so many ways.  I am definitely proud of having a grandson like you.

I think that Shay is lucky to have you for a little brother and I also know that your Mom and Dad are blessed to have you in their life.

Have a terrific birthday and I will come to see you the first chance that I get.

Love Grammy