Monday, September 11, 2017

First time grappling for Damon

We've decided to take a break from weapons for this karate cycle and spent some time grappling on Saturday morning. Mr. Stanford was very impressed with Damon's attempts as it was his first official grappling class. He said, "he's doing very well! Each time I head over to tell him to do something, he's already doing it!" It made me grin as I confessed that he may, perhaps a time or two, has grappled at home with Dada...

The night before...

Believe it or not, these costume pieces were actually in one of Carrie's new classrooms at the high school. Of course the boys were magnetized straight to them, to the glee and delight of her teacher and to the consternation of their parents. Now the boys can't wait to get to high school. 

And of course we had to "be bad" one final time, so a trip to Lola's was arranged. Here they are, never going to be able to sleep due to excitement for the first day OR the sugar rush...

First day of school

Naturally, this kid guessed close enough to how many Skittles were in the jar during open house that he got to bring them home. I'd say that's a win for a first day!

Here they are, after Day One, no worse for wear.

First day of second grade

Not really sure where the time has gone, but this little bugger is a second grader. As has been the case thus far, he whined and moaned the fact that he had to start a new grade. He consistently desires to return to whichever grade he just left. However, now that we have 16 or so days under his belt, he is doing just fine and loves his teacher.

Bring on the terrible twos second grade!

AND for what was probably the second time ever, he has his own pair of brand new shoes instead of a pair from a big kid!

Giving fair warning

This seems to be Liam's go-to shirt for Mondays as well as what he wore the first day of school. As always, you can click on the picture to see it in a larger window, the better to read all the captions to the emojis. I think I'll have to pry this garment off of his body personally in able to pass it along to the next kid in line...

Tuesday, August 22, 2017

Carrie, Carrie, quite contrary...

How does your garden grow? 

Just kidding. She actually took the picture for me. 

My sweet friend Karen Autumn posts excellent and fun pictures on Facebook of older objects which she breathes new life and love into. I was thinking of her as I grabbed this basket which belonged to my great grandmother Frances before I headed to our garden. I love when pretty things are functional things and fun things! 

It makes me smile to think that my amazing Grandma Frances used this in her gardens- I am old enough to remember her cherry trees and her riots of flower garden patches- and now here it is, making my life easier so that I don't have to try to lug everything back to my house in my T-shirt.

Not that that would ever happen as we adults possess the skill called planning ahead. Ahem.

That would be our first watermelon, a sprig of basil which I accidentally snagged off, cucumbers on the top, multitudes of tomatoes including a Cherokee Purple one on the right, and zucchini in the foreground. We also have extraordinarily tall lettuce (I didn't know lettuce grew up but these ones do), golden beets, carrots, spaghetti squash, butternut squash, and holy cow basil and tomatoes out there. 

I must must must get back to blogging as my phone is out of storage: can't take any more pictures until I clear some stuff off, and the garden is CRAZY. 

Hungry? Come on down!

Tuesday, August 15, 2017

Super. Just super, I say.

Monday, August 14, 2017

And we have liftoff in 3...2...1...


That would be the sound of ultimate suffering, breathed and/or vocalized by the majority of kids and parents in the immediate area. School begins in three days. 

I wonder how many parents are channeling Tinker Belle's panic from "Hook": And I only have three days- three days!- to make him bangarang! 

Three days which should, by rights, be spent soaking up every blissful second of summer vacation. The three last weekdays the city pool will be open. The three last chances to sleep in. The three wide open afternoons to fill with being outside, not at a desk, not lugging a backpack stuffed to the gills with supplies, to be reading the books you want to read, taking the naps you can take (it's generally frowned upon once you're sitting at a desk), to spend hours on Legos, to be free. 

Instead, I'm waking the kids up earlier each day to adjust them to the godawful fact that the big kids will have to be on the bus just after seven o'clock in the morning and if one is getting up at six one must not be cruising towards thinking about getting ready for bed at quarter to eleven in the evening...

I'm working out and feeling acid slosh around in my stomach because there is no physically possible way to fit a workout in which will overlap with getting them up to get them moving to get started eating to get dressed to finish eating to quit fighting to finish up that breakfast to hold me back someone anyone or I am going to be on the news!

Because who doesn't love a side of panic with their workout?

Some of you are rolling your eyes and muttering, "so get organized."

Can you feel my icy glare from there? I hope it froze your bum to your seat. 

Some of you have self-motivated children. Some of you have people you live with who you can simply say, "get ready for school" and it happens. 

You do not live here, with These People That I Live With. These People need told, "did you pee?" and "pour the cereal into the bowl," and "do you have a spoon yet?" and "take your meds. Please take your meds" and "leave your brother alone" and "whaddayameanyoustillhaven'tpouredyourcereal" and "dear Lord, don't give me strength or there will be beatings."

I find myself remarking to anyone who will listen that I'd be a MUCH better camp counselor now that I've been a mom than I probably was at the time. At the time, I simply said, "get ready for bed."

Now I am much wiser. Some kids just don't get that the umbrella of "get ready for _________" means you do the bullet points under the umbrella. Somehow it gets lost in translation and turns into, "just show up." Yikes.

Three days. 

This is where you all come to our rescue and overload me with freezer meal recommendations, streamlined homework strategies, bedtime routines, school morning routines, and breakfast ideas.

And then I lower the boom to reveal that none of the kids like the same foods, so while oatmeal works for two of them, one won't touch it. One needs more fiber than the other two, but it has to be a certain kind of mini wheats or they'll not get eaten until maybe the End Times. And by then, one has certainly missed the bus. 

We already lay out our school clothes the night before so that there's no wardrobe changes in the morning. Once the boys  come downstairs, there should be no going back up. Their clothes, toothbrushes, breakfasts, shoes, jackets if needed, and backpacks are all on our ground floor for "easy" departures. Backpacks are generally filled the night before as well, so in theory lunches would be the only additional thing to grab if they are packing. Shoes and jackets are stored on their way to the door.

In theory, there's no reason they shouldn't be able to be completely ready in an hour.

Guessing there will be more posts coming about the reality. I predict a relatively easy first two days as they are a Thursday and Friday and the kids are kind of excited to go back. Two of them are starting at new-to-them schools, which means we now cover three buildings, three lunch menus, two buses, an endless amount of paper, dozens of pencils which still need sharpened and a partridge in a pear tree.

The real manure will hit the windmill next Monday...

Saturday, August 05, 2017

How shall I kill thee, let me count the ways...

"Let' go for a bike ride." He says. "It'll be fun! There will be hash browns. Pap will watch the kids." He says.

"I don't wanna ride my bicycle. They'll be closed because everyone will be at the fair. You watch."

"Ohhh, come on. Yoooouuu waaaant to riiiiiideyour biiiiicycle, you waaaant to riiiiide your bike..."

The sign says, "Gone fishing! See you August 7!" 

Dada's impending doom in 3... 2... 1...

You better be faster on your bike than your hashbrownless wife is on hers, buddy!