The Jolly Good Olympics

(In honor of the recent London Olympics, this post must be read in a British accent for full impact.  Just do it, ye little buggar.)

When I was just a wee little lad before nodding off to sleep each night, I'd lie in me bed and dream 'bout going to the Olympics.  I videotaped the gymnastics and re-watched it time after time after time all day, everyday, all summer long.  It was brilliant.  I still have Dominique Moceanu's floor routine memorized.  And I still get all bleery-eyed when I watch Keri Strugg's infamous vault. 

The Olympics are special to me.  I love the drama.  I love the athleticism.  I love the competition.  I love the patriotism.  

I love the coach/athlete relationships.  

Remember when this jolly good bloke helped my little cheeky lass jump off a tower?  

 That pretty much makes her an Olympian.

I love the come-from-behind victories.  Especially when it's such a cheerio chap.  This guy is brilliant.

I love the team mentality.  These girls are simply darling and their moments had me on the edge of my seat and more than once crying hysterically.  There was so much excitement.  It was barking mad.

I loved the constant sightings of the British royalty tromping around London and snogging in the stands.

I loved this moment.  Like, I LOVED it.  (Although I do wish she would have put some trousers on.  I did see a wee bit too much arse this Olympic games.)

I loved the young talent that snuck in there and blazed it up.  And did it with class and dignity.     

I love the inspirational stories and the way the Olympics brings out the best in the human spirit.

Oh, the Olympics.  

I loved it.

The Most Epicly Epic Family Reunion of All Time

This year, for the first year in the Campbell Family History, we had our very own Family Reunion.  

Just our family. 

Mom, Dad, the 6 kids, the 2 extra spouses, and the 4 grand kids.  

Intimate and sweet.  

How it should be. 

Night 1 was the Court of Honor for the last of the Campbell Family boys. 

He's officially an Eagle.

  Fly, Braden.  Fly.

Cameron was jealous and decided to earn his status of Eagle by diving head-first off the cultural hall stage.  

Luke literally flew (he's also always wanted to be an Eagle) with outstretched arms and dove onto his stomach (think outfielder in the World Series) and missed catching Cameron's head by millimeters. 

(Here's Luke explaining.  "...and then his head slammed into the ground and made this nasty sound...")

 In the end, Cameron snuggled Luke all night and we've all kept our feet solidly on the ground since.

Day 2 started with a surfing trip (you'll have to use your imagination since some people don't know what "make sure to take a picture" means.)

Then we were off to Highland and headed to a picnic at the pond.  The plan was to have a fishing derby, a volleyball tournament, and a BBQ. 

But, the pond was closed for fishing, the volleyball net was missing, and we forgot the matches.  

So we played soccer and we borrowed some matches.

And we ate some hamburgers.  

 

And we liked it.

One thing you should know about my family is that we are ever-so-slightly-itsy-bitsy-a teeny-tiny-little-bit-just-barely.. competitive.  

It was like the flippin' Olympics out there.  

My mom crushed her toe, Brittany couldn't walk for a day, Braden took a doosie to the face, and more than one ball got kicked at Cameron's head.  

(Luke was the goalie and Cameron wouldn't be put down.)

That night we had a talent show, and friends, Campbell's Got Talent.

Chelsey and Britt sang to the guitar (it was magical),

 Cameron did his somersault that we've been practicing for a month (it was surprising,)

 Brooklyn and Aubrey sang "Moonshadow" instead of "Call Me Maybe" as originally planned (it was alright...),

 mom did a handstand (it was impressive),

Brendan drew some stuff (it was artistic),

Kellie sang opera (it was k-razy),

Brad showed us his flying movie (it was inspiring),

Luke did a back-flip (it was frightening),

and Dad did stand-up comedy (it was the most hilarious thing I've ever heard.  For real.  P.S. Have you heard about the new BYU Barbie?  You put a ring on her finger and she inflates.  Hahaha.  I died.)  Oh, and he made that microphone by spraypainting a tube and a tennis ball.  That's a talent all it's own.

But the biggest talent of the night was finding out that we can all touch our noses with our tongues. (it was frightening.)

We also played jacks.  Yes, jacks.  Who does that?  

We do, friends.  

We do.

We played Pounce (mom and Brad won) and we had a Settlers tournament that went well past midnight (Brittany won), 

 

and we played Minute-to-Win-It (my team won).

On Sunday night we had a Family Night Lesson taught by my dad.  It was one of those life moments that you just want to freeze and lock away in your mental safe to pull out at moments in life when you might need it.  

After a few weeks in my my new calling (I teach 14 five year olds), it was just what the doctor ordered.  

It made me feel grateful, hopeful, uplifted, and inspired.

And it made me love my family even more than I already did. 

If that is even possible. 

I can't wait till next year.

Celebrity Look-A-Like #13

 To join the ranks with 

The Snuggle Bear

Cindy Lou Who

The Phillsbury Dough Boy

Edward Scissor Hands

The Joker

Cee Lo

Elton John

Justin Bieber

Mr. Clean

Vin Diesel

Puss in Boots

Mr. Rogers

and Megamind....

I present to you the newest Webb Family Celebrity Look-A-Like...

 Jack Jack.

School

School here starts on August 8th.

August. Freakin. Eighth.

What the bleep?!?!

But, since I'm already outnumbered in the child-to-adult ratio and (let's be honest) this summer has been about 1/4% as cool as last summer, I guess I'll get over it.

(Although, you should know that I did take my kids to the Cabazon Dinosaur Park to amp up the summer fun quota and it was cool and I took a million awesome pictures that I planned to make into the most amazing post ever until some unnamed person in our household deleted the memory card without uploading the pictures first.

HOLY. MELT. DOWN.

I'm still debating whether or not that's divorce-grounds worthy. 

I go back and forth on an hourly basis.)

But anyway.  

Back to School.  

It started.  And it's too early.  

Too early in the year.  

Too early in the day.  

Too early in life.  

Of course we had a Back to School party with some darling new friends.

We danced.  We kissed.  We schmoozed. 

Actually, we did none of those things.  

But look how cute these kids are.  

Oh. my.

 Later that night, I read them my favorite book ("You Are Special" by Max Lucado),

 layed out the First Day of School Official Clothes,

explained where to punch the bullies if anyone wasn't being nice and prayed really hard that the stranger who would be watching her all day would just be nice.

 And then we woke up (had a minor disagreement about which socks looked the best; she could not be talked out of them) and went to school.  

Just like we had done it a hundred times.

 Um, excuse me.  When did you become a hundred years old?

 I stayed and watched like a stalker just to see what would happen.  

Nothing.  

Nothing happened.  

She played.  She talked.  She waited in line.  She sucked her thumb.  She made instant friends.  

She had the time of her life.  

(This is my own little version of "Where's Waldo?"  Except it's "Where's Brooklyn?"  Obviously.)

 And then I started going slightly psycho and I began picturing Brooklyn on her wedding day and the day she drops her first child off at Kindergarten and that was about the time that I booked it out of there because all the other parents were calm and collected and I was not about to be that girl. 

 So we walked home (Cameron drove).

 Aubrey and I had our own little KinderPreschool.  We wrote our numbers.  We read about dolphins.  We watched a YouTube video about a dolphin giving birth.  We used m&m's to teach subtraction.  We colored inside the lines.  We did a maze and helped the ant reach his picnic.  

And then we went back to pick up our Brooklyn. 

Not a bad day. 

(But I still think it's too early.)