Eleven.

My boy is eleven. Wowzers. Time flies by. My sister-in-law asked me the other day if I was sad they're growing up so fast. I said, "Not really." I've really enjoyed seeing this boy grow. How did I get SO lucky to be his mom? I figure it's because Heavenly Father was planning on sending me 2 very strong-willed daughters next.

Tag's been saving his money for a go kart and wanted one for his birthday, but Tommy, being the cheapskate (as always), said he'd have to pay for the majority of the go kart and we'd pitch in the rest. My BRILLIANT solution for earning some quick cash?? A birthday party, of course! We had a last-minute party at the lake with a bunch of his buddies. 14 to be exact. I figured it would be great father/son bonding time, so I loaded them up with drinks and snacks and sent Tommy and Craig off. You wouldn't believe the crusties I got from those two. Tommy's words (almost) exactly. "You've GOT to be (synonym of pooping) me!"

The best group of buddies, EVER!

What's a lake trip with the Stapes' family without anyone getting hurt? Maybe we should've had each kid sign a waiver prior.

Cliff jumping.

Tag has the greatest (and in Tag's opinion, one of the hottest) Primary teachers.

The naughty girls blowing out his candles. We had to re-light 3 times.

The Shmamily.