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I count my blessings after every street plowing that we have “snow gates”. The snow gate was one of the best inventions ever implemented especially when you consider the alternative. I remember growing up how much of a chore it was to chisel out the four foot high snow dam of ice and compacted snow at the end of the driveway. The residual snow left by snow plows equipped with snow gates leaves nothing more than a speed bump that you can easily drive over. It’s a minor convenience but it sure makes winter seem a little shorter.

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Happy Birthday to my big sister! Sorry for going all ‘Shoebox’ on you, but I wanted to be sure to let you know I hadn’t forgotten. Hope you have a five-alarm day! We all love you!

Photography, in one form or another, has always been a part of my life. While I don’t consider myself a photographer, I can certainly appreciate the aesthetics and life-journaling aspects of it. My dad’s side of the family were like paparazzi at family events. Anytime family was together, the cameras came out to record the moment. I can still picture my aunts with their cameras hanging from every appendage. Us kids got to be pretty good at looking happy even when we were fit to be tied. It’s a wonder that more of the grandkids didn’t become photo-journalists, portrait photographers or even models. I have learned that good photography takes patience and the lasting result is something worth every ounce of blood, sweat and tears (yes, tears) that go into it. It’s a shame that my kids don’t share that sentiment. Maybe I should get the camera out more often.

Kids have an awesome way of quantifying love. Often times when tucking them in for the night they try to ‘out-love’ me. “I love you” quickly gets an “I love you more.” To which you can only top with “I love you forever” (by the way, “forever plus infinity” invites a number of redundant variations that extend the bedtime sign-off by another five minutes).

Love isn’t tangible and, as far as I know, can’t be measured or observed scientifically so the above exchange is ridiculous if you aim to over-analyze it. Fortunately that doesn’t make it any less real. Even as logical as I am, I have absolutely no problem with the fact that love can’t be empirically proven to exist. Like my kids, I have faith and believe that it does.

It’s interesting to see how our kids look at money. What’s more interesting is how they handle it. It’s one area I know they’ll need some coaching on and we try very hard to instill in them a sense of responsibility when it comes to their ‘cash’. I don’t know that there is a definitive ‘pay day’ in our home anymore, but they certainly earn their keep doing chores (with lots of reminding, anyway).

Whenever they do get the green stuff they have to divvy it up into their three ‘banks’.  Both boys have three glass jars on their dressers, each labeled with masking tape and sharpie marker. One jar is for saving, another is for spending and the last jar is for giving. We tell them that at least 10% goes into giving and the other two we leave up to them. Periodically we make trips to the credit union to deposit their savings. I can tell you just by looking at those jars which son likes to save and which likes to spend. The challenge seems to be finding that balance!

Last night my youngest was reading to me a math story book on multiplication (exciting, I know). I’m amazed at how much calculation he already does in his head. Some books are really creative at getting kids to visualize math. All I could think about was how they integrated ‘real-life’ math to us as kids in school; like scoring ten frames of bowling — long hand!

It’s weird to think of it, but gym class became math class for a few weeks in third grade when they busted out the hollow rubber bowling balls, plastic pins and mimeographed score sheets. It seems like we spent a whole year on learning how to score in bowling (apparently it’s critical that all North Dakota children develop this life skill). When it was time for the final test, I remember reciting those rules to myself quietly as I scored: a spare is ten plus the next one ball, a strike is ten plus the next two balls.

Within years, all the bowling alleys switched to computers so my mastery of this skill quickly became obsolete. To keep the tradition of North Dakota math life skills alive, maybe schools could start teaching kids how to score Pinochle games.

About a year ago, after a decade of satellite service, we allowed cable television into our lives. Not surprising is that a number of programs we watch now are on channels we never got before. Our remote frequently stops at the Food Channel (aka food porn) and, believe it or not, the Travel Channel. One program in particular, ‘Man v. Food’, we find especially engrossing. In it, host Adam Richman takes on any number of eating challenges at famous eateries across the nation. I’m not sure what his fight record is, but it seems whenever I tune in he’s getting walloped by overindulging in something too spicy, too starchy or just plain impossible to finish in the time allotted.

My oldest son takes special pride in today’s Inkling (I sort of owe him for last month’s “SKOL Vikings” blog entry). Monday night’s rematch favored Cutler’s Bears nearly every second of the game. Favre naturally pulled some of his fourth quarter magic (after venting his frustration with Childress’s squad changes for three quarters) which pushed the game into overtime. It’s really too bad that the Viking’s loss was a result of the oh-so-capable-but-butter-fingered Peterson.

P.S. Sorry Vikings fans. I feel your pain, but I just had to get this dig in. Please forgive me. Mason, you’re welcome!