something right

Do anyone else's kids' homework sessions involve tears? I mean from the kid, not the parent - although I have shed a few in frustration. Today's session with the Bee did. Not that I should have been surprised; she is definitely the most emotional out of the three kids. That, combined with the assignment introducing her to probability (in the first grade, can you believe it?) and a lost-sleep hangover due to a weekend road trip, was no shocker. But it didn't make it any easier, either. She was supposed to write several statements, first about herself and then about her parents, showing events that could happen to her/us, and then write "likely" or "unlikely" next to them. For example:

My mom will eat chocolate tomorrow. Likely
If I put a football on the side of a hill, it will roll uphill. Unlikely

I don't know if she was having trouble coming up with examples, or getting bogged down with all the writing - it was a lot and writing is definitely NOT her favorite subject - or just didn't get it, but she was slowly melting into a puddle of tears and her own self-pity, and her mother really was trying to be patient and understanding and calm, but was also about ready to kick something; maybe the dog. But I remembered some words from my own prayers this morning...something about "please help me to speak kindly to my children, and with love." And I guess this included the dog, because she was spared. (I would never actually kick the dog, I have to interject here.) So I exerted myself a little more, offered loving, supportive, kind words - words about having a choice about her attitude in this tough situation, about how she could choose her reaction, how she could go out and play as soon as she was finished - and then had to remove myself from the situation before I completely lost it, because it wasn't working. I went into the kitchen and started washing dishes, while the little waif mourned her terrible lot on the floor next to the coffee table.

And then, halfway through the nonstick cookware, the crying stopped. Out of the corner of my eye, a little hand picked up the pencil and put it to paper. I remained silent, not wanting to draw attention to it. She was now working on the side of the paper, I knew, that had to do with writing about what her parents were likely/unlikely to do. I thought of past homework sessions which involved frustration on the part of both parent and child and secretly worried that something like "My mom will yell at me..........likely" might end up on that paper, and then what I would do when the teacher called about it, etc. But a few minutes later, she quietly and humbly walked up to me and handed me her homework - all wrinkled, because she had crumpled it up and thrown it on the floor at least twice. "I'm finished, Mom." And I couldn't help smiling. I also couldn't help putting dinner back in the oven for 10 extra minutes so she could go outside for a well-deserved scooter ride with the neighbor kids.

That was when I also sneaked a peek at her work: "Dad will go to werk. Likely. Mom will make dinner. likly."

And then this....

Mom will love me.likely

Guess I did something right today.

2:12:20

I am grateful today for whatever caused me, while I was loading my ipod shuffle Friday night, to place in the midst of Lake Wobegon stories, "Selected Shorts" and "This American Life" podcasts, arrangements of Vivaldi and various songs kifed from Pandora; the song "Here Comes My Girl" by Tom Petty. It came on at mile 12.5 of my second half marathon, when the wind was in my face and my legs were begging me to "just walk a little bit". And it made me imagine my dh waiting for me at the finish line, singing (okay, thinking; let's get real) those words. And then it made me pick up my feet and make it to the end, Stuntman and Flip and Miss Bee running the last 50 feet right along with me. Thank you.

funerals i have known

I went to a funeral for the husband of a friend in my book club yesterday. It was beautiful and sad, for lack of more expressive terms. But that's just what it was. I didn't know her husband at all, so I was there more for her.

I have been to five funerals. The first two were for grandparents; I was 8 at the first one and a senior in high school at the second, so my degree of understanding differed greatly between the two. The third was for my father-in-law, who died in a car accident, just after we had moved two states away and I was pregnant with Flip. Two of my sisters-in-law were also pregnant, and out of the three cousins that came from those pregnancies, the two boys bear their grandpa's name as their middle name. The fourth was for a child, a funeral I'm still not sure why I attended. They were a family who had visited our church meetings a few times, and they sat behind us, and their kids were little and fun to watch. Their little boy died under suspcious circumstances (involving a caregiver), horrible to think about - I still don't know what the outcome of the investigation was. And this was the fifth.

You can't go to a funeral without putting yourself in one of the many roles you see played in it: the widowed spouse, the daughter/son/parent/other family member of the deceased, the deceased him-/herself. Through all 5 of those I've attended, I've found that even if you don't know the deceased that well, you still react. Even if it's like this one - just watching the strong, tough matriarch of a family of 8 children, weary from dealing with 2 years of her husband's illness and watching his battle unfold, walk down the church aisle on her son's arm behind the casket with her eyes full of tears, still trying to be strong and tough.

music man

Flip, as a newly minted middle-schooler, chose band as an elective this year. Despite my status as a former band geek (actually, I'm not sure I can say "former" - I still love it), I can say with all forthrightness that I did not influence this decision at all. Really. He made a list of pros and cons for all his elective choices and based his decision on that. So, now we are serenaded by "Go Tell Aunt Rhodie," "Mary Had a Little Lamb" and "Ode to Joy" on the trumpet, almost every day. (We also hear his two newest hits - the theme from the Wallace and Gromit movies and something that sounds like Land of a Thousand Dances - both of which he figured out himself.)

Two nights ago, we had the opportunity to go hear the Dallas Brass perform at a fundraiser for a local high school. The word went out to all middle school and high school band students, and since we (read "I") didn't want to miss the opportunity, we invested in tickets for the whole family. (I really did want everyone to go, but mostly Flip. Frankly, I wanted to see Flip get really thrilled about something. He can be quite passive in his enthusiasm.)

Dallas Brass is composed of 5 brass players (2 trumpets, a trombone, a horn and a tuba) and 1 percussionist. They tour around the country as well as some international locations, and also do clinics for school bands, which is how we got to see them. The concert spanned American musical history, beginning with some classical music (from Europe, since that's where many of our forefathers originated from) and working its way through patriotic marches, folk songs, jazz, the birth of rock 'n roll, and even some hip-hop. (At least I think that's how that last one would be defined - I don't know; my radio's usually tuned to NPR or this really great independent rock station.)

I was riveted from the first note. I've always loved the big, warm sound of brass, so it wasn't hard for me to get caught up in what was coming from the stage. But when my eyes weren't on the stage, they were on Flip. Come on, I found myself silently pleading with him, feel this! See what you could do! Someone's throwing you a ball, catch it! I didn't care if the trumpet specifically got him; it could be any of the other instruments. Mainly just the music. The first half of the concert came and went. I asked him during the intermission, "So, what do you think?" "Oh, it's pretty good." (Pretty good??? my inner band geek griped, but I restrained her.)

The second half began, and somewhere - I don't even remember where - a big grin spread across his face, his eyes got bigger, and the light went on. It might have been during the 15-minute drum solo, or the jazz piece that all 5 brass players came down into the audience to perform (the trombonist was flinging his slide right down our row, and Miss Bee, who had fallen asleep, didn't even wake up!), or the performance with the other middle school of the theme from "Super Mario Brothers", but his foot started tapping somewhere in there. He was getting it! Oh, I was ecstatic. He stayed with it all the way to the end, which was school-night late (10:00), which - who knows? - might have been the real reason he was grinning so much.

After the concert, the members of the ensemble assembled in the lobby to sign autographs and answer questions. I persuaded Flip to have one of the trumpet players sign his program (there were CDs and posters available for purchase which would have been better to sign, but we had already blown our budget for the evening on the tickets). Flip was nervous to ask him, but I went with him and he was okay. I told him Flip was a new trumpet player this year, and he asked him how that was going with his mouth full of braces, and then told him that when they came off, he'd sound awesome because there'd be nothing standing between his lips and the trumpet mouthpiece. That seemed to satisfy Flip, and on that note, we went out to the car and drove our tired family home.
I wish I could tell you about the hours of dedicated practice that followed this occasion, but I can't. Even as I finish this post (today is 2-15/11, 3 months after I started it - I know; I'm playing catch-up), the trumpet-practicing battle wages on. But now Flip's repertoire has extended to include "Erie Canal", several Christmas carols, and a few scales, major and chromatic. And when we filled out a questionnaire last month for his Primary class at church for the other kids to learn more about him, his response to "what do you want to be when you grow up?" was "jazz musician". He could still turn out to be a music man.

10!

Today is a special day, not to be repeated for another 100 years. Notice the date? It's 10-10-10! Such a day must be celebrated, don't you think? Here is the breakdown of the roundtuit household 10-10-10 party:

Tomato soup with 10 mix-ins to choose from: salsa, cheddar cheese, smashed-up tortilla chips, taco seasoning, goldfish crackers, Ritz crackers, crumbled bacon, chopped pepperoni, parmesan cheese, and Cholula sauce (for DH). Homemade, slightly burnt-on-the-bottom breadsticks completed the meal. And......









....if you lay a breadstick next to your bowl of soup, you get a perfect 10! (Bah-dum ching!)












Dessert was a 10 made from chocolate cakes baked in a loaf pan and an 8" round pan, frosted with chocolate glaze. Yum!

The evening's festivities will conclude with the family listing 10 things we like about each family member. (And nothing like "What I like about Miss Bee is when she leaves my stuff alone" will be allowed, Stuntman.) It's a new roundtuit family holiday! What will we do for 11-11-11? Or 12-12-12? (Or maybe I won't bother planning anything for 12-12-12 - isn't the world supposed to end on that day? Who wants to put in all that work for nothing?) Happy 10-10-10!



P.S. I can't take credit for this fun idea, which was suggested by my friend Elizabeth, whose other ideas for special days such as "Mass Transit Day" and planned food fights (which I never had the guts to attend but admired for their creativity) will live long in my memory. (I wonder if she had a chocolate 10 for dessert today.)

P.S.

Let us pause for a moment and remember DH and Stuntman in our prayers, as they are on a mountain on the previously mentioned pack trip and we would like them to return down the mountain, unassisted by stretchers, helipcopters or any other means that mean they were injured or otherwise unable to walk. We thank you for your support.

summer blues and greens

Are you like me? Do you see the end of school/beginning of summer coming and brace yourself against having to entertain bored children (that's all my kids seem to say during the summer - "Mom, I'm so bored. This house is so boring") while simultaneously making lists of summer projects, things you want to teach your kids (because now you'll "have time"), vacation plans, academic instruction periods (because we can't let their brains turn to mush, now), etc.? Why yes, you're right - that IS a long list of to-dos for one summer, and NO, of course I won't actually DO all of them. I just make the lists. That's my point.

Along with the green of summer - the newness of being with the kids all day, the vision of doing worthwhile, wholesome activities without having to worry about school - there come the blues: the realization that making such lists also creates the possibility that the little box next to each item may remain unchecked because my list is too long (and let's face it, a little unrealistic - at least for me).

But don't worry about us; we're cool. Everything's cool. This week, instead of focusing on all the things I feel like cramming into the next 3 months, we had a "just for fun" week. DH and Stuntman are on a High Adventure pack trip with the scouts in New Mexico, so Flip and Miss Bee have set a goal: one "fun" thing every day (after swim practice and a few chores in the morning). Monday was a trip to the craft store to use our 50% off coupon on some projects, which we took home and worked on, yesterday was bowling and games with our summer bowling pass (check it out here, but only if your kids REALLY like bowling; I found out too late that 2 free games every day for a whole summer wasn't really Flip's idea of a fun summer activity), and today was lunch and a swim (and a sunburn on Bee's nose) at the pool. I'll admit, it has been nice not only not worrying about schoolwork, but also not worrying about The Summer Activity List. Isn't summertime when the livin' is supposed to be easy? This week is all about easy. Okay, so the dog chewed up Flip's orthodontic appliance, which we only just got Monday to replace the one he lost at cub scout day camp - that was definitely a blue; not a green - but we're cool, we're cool.

file under "what is this world coming to?"

"I know this is stupid, but I really need help...have you ever taken an ACT for somebody, my friend that graduated from my highschool bak in 2008 had somebody take his test for him and he got a good score...I have football scholarships and I need to pass my ACT in order to get me scholarship, I dont want to have to go to junior college I already tried taking the test 5 times the highest score I got was a 12 i tried studying for it and iv'e had no luck...So at this point i'll do wat ever it takes ,I can provide the fake id for you and $400 for you if you would take the test for me and get a score of 18 or higher for me...Im sorry but I need my scholarship and IM willing to do wat ever it takes to get my football scholarship, so if you can help plz email me bak. the test is on 6/12/10"

This is a direct quote from a post on craigslist.com in our area I found while looking for possible editing/writing gigs. I want to write this poor guy a note and tell him how the fallout from this would be much worse than losing any football scholarship - worse because he'd have to live with the knowledge that his college career was built on a false foundation (no, not on his amazing football skills). He sounds so desperate. It makes me sad!

you're gonna stand

So I went to a spin class today - so far the only weekly gym activity that is justifying my YMCA dues this year. The instructor was new to me, since she had a baby recently and took some time off (of course, she looked nothing like someone who'd had a baby recently), so I've only seen her substitute the past couple of months. Anyway, she was kind of a nice change from the sub, who I liked, but this girl has a different approach that I liked more. She had a way of preparing you for the changes in pace or tension that were coming up in the routine so you knew what was ahead of you: "Here's a hill - we're gonna increase tension on the way up, then sprint at the top and coast down." "You're gonna do 30-second sprints at a 7 on a 1-10 scale; we're doing 3 minutes; go!" (Or something like this. Like I said, I'm a once-a-week spin class attendee.) It got me thinking.

(Oh, and lest you think I'm morphing into one of those athletic types who uses sports metaphors for everything, don't worry. "Athletic" definitely does not describe me. And I rarely wax contemplative on exercise equipment.)

Actually, I was thinking how UNlike life this is. We don't usually get heads-ups when changes are ahead. Major changes, I mean. What I wouldn't give for a "Warning: back surgery ahead for husband" or "Caution: possible layoffs" sign. Then whatever shoring up of resources (sorry for the Sarah Palin quote; it does fit) had to be done would be done, and I'd be prepared for anything.

Of course, this is not how life works, and our mettle is truly tested with the unexpected. I mean, if someone were to even suggest that something like a struggling kid in school or a car-totaling accident might be in your future, even if you just what-iffed those possibilities, your first thought might even be Wow, I don't know how I'd handle that. Or That sounds hard. A reaction of self-doubt. But sometimes, it's not till you're in the middle of one of these that you suddenly find yourself handling it. There's just no other way through it. And you may find out that you're made of tougher stuff than you thought.

Here's one more thing that spin class instructor said that I liked. Preparing us for a climb, she told us to "gear up" (increase tension on the bike) and added, "Okay, you're gonna stand" (to pedal harder). Now there's something I can use, even with the unexpected. Because even when you don't know what's coming, it's good to think that - no matter what - you're gonna stand.

*thanks to www.vecteezy.com for use of header image*

things we learned in 2009

• Lift with your legs, not your back
• A puppy's diet doesn't stop at dog food
• Our living room can hold 44 people in folding chairs at a piano recital
• All the laundry CAN get done when all 3 kids are in school
• A puppy's diet doesn't stop at kids' shoes
• Mom is the Bop It! champion of the house
• Girls seem to learn how to tie shoes earlier than boys in this family
• Car pools for swim team in the hot Texas summer are a good idea
• A puppy's diet doesn't stop at the living room couch
• Getting to stop at Sonic on your way home from middle school is fun
• Watching your kids perform at something they enjoy is such a pleasure
• Kindergarten isn't the end of the world (for Miss Bee or her mom)
• A puppy's diet changes a little bit for the better when the puppy turns into a dog (but still doesn't stop at piano benches)
• A 12-yr-old gets to be considered just a little bit manly after surviving a 2-night scout campout in the rain/snow
• Hopefully 2010 will be a great year!

Happy New Year to all!

saturday morning blues

Yesterday morning, I didn't sleep in.

Big deal, you say.

Well, let me explain. No - to quote one of my favorite movies - there is too much. Let me sum up.

Those of you who know me know my husband is a cyclist and burgeoning triathlete. He has several 100-mile bike races and 2 half-Ironmans (Ironmen?) under his belt. What this means is that he goes on early morning bike rides on Saturday, his only free day (Sunday is the Lord's day, not the cyclist's, in our family), and Mom stays home and faces the Saturday morning chore arguments solo. So no sleeping in.

The significance of the no-sleep-in yesterday? I'm getting to it.

Here's how our family spent this past summer: in and out of the hospital. DH herniated a disc in June, had minimally invasive surgery for it in July, got a spinal fluid leak 2 weeks later as a complication from that surgery, had a procedure done to try and fix it in August which didn't work, had a second surgery to stitch up the leak which did fix it but was NOT minimally invasive, and has been recovering ever since. That is a big, long sentence which tells you what our summer was like while leaving out a lot of the pain, emotional/physical suffering, hardship, service from friends/family, prayers, and little blessings in between. Needless to say, there was no bike riding (or much walking, for that matter) for dh during any of it. But I got to sleep in on a few choice Saturdays. This really isn't about me, though.

A few weeks ago, dh went to his follow-up visit with the back surgeon. He gave him the okay to resume normal activities, which he has begun to ease into. Yesterday marked the first bike ride with his buddies he has been able to do for over 4 months. He may not have kept up with the guys the whole time, but he returned home sweaty and smiling in his Arizona State University bike jersey, and you could tell his heart was full. So this time, I didn't mind getting up a little earlier to get started on my day. There will be plenty more Saturdays to come when I have to get up before I want to, and I will probably not have this good of an attitude about all of them, but this time, I am counting my blessings.

there's always more flab

I was running with my friends the other morning and we were all talking about weight we'd like to lose (cliche, no?) when I mentioned I thought my legs were the biggest part of me. (They are an inheritance from my mom's side of the family.) My companion said, "So? Mine are bigger. And someone else's are bigger than mine, and someone else's are bigger than hers, and so on and so on....There will always be worse." I think her point was that no matter how bad you think you have it, someone somewhere is in a worse spot than you are.

I think I'm going to try to remember this whenever I feel like complaining. Maybe take a second look at what I'm about to gripe about, and decide if it's really worth the gripe. DH and I discussed that this afternoon, and he mentioned a PBS show he watched last night that gave him food for thought. See, DH's company has been in some financial troubles over the past few months (it's a small company) and its very existence is currently in jeopardy, so it's looking like he will have to find another job in a field where lots of other people are in the same spot - out of work, I mean. He is understandably worked up over this, which is why he was watching PBS in the middle of the night.

Anyway, he was all full of butterflies over his employment situation and turned on this show about 2 women, roommates, who are middle-aged and both living with disabilities. One has MS, and the other, who must act as caregiver, has Down's Syndrome. (Wow, right?) Anyway, they both are on Medicaid or Medicare (DH couldn't remember which) and some sort of their disability coverage was threatening to be discontinued. Apparently they were claiming that they were homebound (probably true, for the most part), but under some law, "homebound" means that you really can't ever leave your home if you want to be considered as such. These women heard about some group that was lobbying for this law to be changed, and decided to go to Washington to join in the lobby. Medicaid (or Medicare or whoever) somehow found out that they left their home, and promptly began an investigation into whether they really needed that coverage. (Wow again.) So then all this then made DH rethink his situation and realize that okay, he has a few contacts with acquaintances in his field who have gotten him interviews and names of recruiters, his boss and coworkers all have good things to say about him, and maybe we could be grateful for what we have and not pull out our hair just yet.

The whole job question and the accompanying what-ifs (what if we have to move? what if there's nothing out there? what if we do get an offer but it's really low and it's the only one?) aren't resolved yet, so I don't know if a moral is a little premature, but here it is: there's always someone with fatter legs.

thank-you notes

(I got this idea from the first - and probably the last - "Late Show With Jimmy Fallon" I watched. Jimmy was a little wooden, but this idea was pretty good.)

Dear Sink of Dirty Dishes,

Thank you for waiting for me. You always do. No matter how much I try to ignore you. Would that other things in my life waited so patiently.

Yours,
J.

Dear Flip,

Thank you for practicing the piano when I asked. And thank you for getting through the whole practice session without a single rendition of Star Wars.

Love,
Mom

Dear 2nd Hunger Games Book,

Thank you for keeping me in suspense. And thank you for being a great escape from stress last week. And while I do appreciate a good cliffhanger, I don't appreciate having to wait a year to find out what happens next or who falls off that cliff. But you were still a good read. Really.

Sincerely,
J.

Dear DH,

Thank you for remembering to write cereal on the shopping list when you replaced the empty box from the pantry. Just for that, I might buy Peanut Butter Cap'n Crunch next time.

Love,
J.

Dear Stuntman,

Thanks for getting up and doing your chores when your alarm goes off pretty much every school morning. And thanks for being a good example for the other 2 kids, even though they're never awake to see you setting it. You are a great kid!

Love,
Mom

Dear Miss Bee,

Thank you for letting me do your hair. I have been waiting 2 boys' worth of bowl haircuts/clipper jobs to play with some curly, girly hair. I know you hate the tangles and the pulling, but it's so much fun. Thank you for cooperating with the scrunchies, ribbons, bobby pins and barrettes. And I promise - ponytails only once a week.

Love love love,
Mommy

P.S. Thank you too for the new record - you've made it 1 1/2 years without giving yourself a haircut! I'm so proud of you!

lemonade stand

Here's a summer memory I just had to record somewhere...
The neighborhood kids came by our house this afternoon asking if our kids could help them with a lemonade stand. They borrowed a folding table and set up down the street. I sat outside with a magazine just to keep an ear out (and because I was curious if anyone would stop). Surprised that several cars pulled over, I decided to dig through the change jar and get some myself. Approaching the table, I was informed that lemonade was a dollar (but they gave me a 50-cent discount), and when I got there, all the cups I saw were plastic/glass ones harvested from the neighbors' kitchen cupboards. I asked if they had any paper ones - "no, but we'll wash them out." With soap? "No, just water. But lots of water!" Did people like their lemonade? "Mostly they're just giving us the money."

For a germ-free lemonade stand experience, here's a link to that old lemonade stand computer game that we all remember from the 80's: http://www.lemonadestand.com/

summer love/hate

What I like about summer:

• swim team practices (and the moms who share in carpooling the boys back/forth)
• fruit in season and the sales upon it - nectarines, peaches, plums, raspberries, strawberries
• 4th of July
• the smell of water from the hose when it hits the pavement (always makes me think of my childhood)
• easy schedules
• summer rainstorms
• popsicles
• catching fireflies (and then letting them go)
• having some time to teach my kids something new
• what the kids smell like when they come in from playing outside: something like sunscreen, grass clippings, hose water, and kid-sweat
• the stack of books that are waiting for me to read them
• the free Six Flags tickets the school gives out to the kids who meet their reading goals
• short haircuts
  

What I don't like:

• heat
• humidity
• every summer I buy a cool, summery white shirt, and it's ruined within 2 days of its purchase (it actually made it to 3 days this year - still a bummer)
• vacuuming up piles and piles of shed dog fur
• no time of day to go on a run when it's not hot/humid
• kids who don't get out of the pool when it's time to go
• strange comments about my new short haircut ("Mom, you look like Willy Wonka.")
  
  

• my inability to take a good picture of myself (that's actually year-round; not just summer)

elegy for a nerf

Today we bid farewell to the little Nerf basketball. Though quiet and seldom seen, he was always good for a quick game of catch. The perfect weight - heavy enough to bounce on the floor, but light enough to bounce off a sibling's head to get his/her attention without causing harm. He joins dh's ipod headphones, several of Stuntman's socks, the player's manual for Robots on the PS2, a big hunk of the living room couch, 2 TV remotes, and many other objects, all helped along to the other side by Caramel the dog.

Farewell, dear friend. Like the others, our lives are just a little bit better for having known you.

dressed to distress

Here (Mooooom!!) is a picture (I don't want toooo!) of Miss Bee's (Don't brush my hair!) Easter (Ow!) dress that (Get away!) I made (Can I ride my scooter?) for her (I don't want to smile!) last month (My knee hurts!) and that she has worn (Do I look pretty?) twice, counting today (Happy Mother's Day, Mommy!).

just did it

Yes, bad blogger me.



Well, I just registered Miss Bee for kindergarten. Hoo boy. I can't believe I'll be all by myself next year. And I can't believe what a big deal I'm making of all this. I only say that because for the past 2 years or so, I've imagined (even daydreamed of) what it would be like to go grocery shopping, do volunteer stuff at the elementary school, go visiting teaching, go to dr. appointments, etc.; without a little shadow. And I imagined it would be GREAT! But all of a sudden, I find myself a little wistful. Actually, this started when she turned 5 a couple of months ago, as you might have noticed if you tuned in 2 or 3 posts ago.

I'm a little surprised. I don't remember feeling this way at all when the boys went to kindergarten. I was so ready for a break I practically put a boot to each of their hineys on their way out the door. Maybe it's because it's (probably) the last time I will register someone for kindergarten. I don't know, but I found myself thinking about the weirdest little things as I filled out the forms. Like how long it had been since I'd done this (okay, only 4 years, but it still seems like a long time) and how different this time was: how the first 3 digits of her SSN were completely different than the boys' (but the last 4 are exactly the same as Flip's, only switched around), that I answered the question "What would you like the kindergarten teachers to know about your child?" from a very different perspective than with her brothers, and that I got to check the "F" box instead of the "M" this time.

So get over yourself, pianogal, you're saying to me in your head right now. You'll enjoy the freedom. Take a nap, for heaven's sake. Hey, I even got a "congratulations" from the PTA lady at the sign-up desk, who knows Miss Bee is my last kid. And I will, don't get me wrong. So why am I waxing reminiscent about something that hasn't even happened yet, and come to think of it, how can I even use the word "reminiscent" about it? Am I the only one this happens to?

doughnuts accomplish nothing

Today is Miss Bee's real b-day, so even though we celebrated as a family on Sat., I still felt like I should do something to recognize her special day. Last night I got the *bright* idea: doughnuts! Who wouldn't love birthday doughnuts? And since dh is out of town and I can't leave the kids alone to drive 8 miles to Krispy Kreme, let's make some! I mixed the dough last night, laid out all my utensils so I could get up the next morning and fry, and went to bed with visions of doughnuts dancing in my head.

Everything went great this morning - got the doughnuts made (even before the kids got up!), wished Bee a happy b-day when she got up with a candle in her breakfast, and went in to wake Flip. It's always hard getting Flip up in the morning, but I couldn't wait to tell him what we were having for breakfast. I mean, wouldn't you get your hiney out of bed for doughnuts?

Boy, was I wrong. Apparently, this kid only arises for Krispy Kremes. "Homemade" has no effect on him. So, after a hearty breakfast of 3 bites of my efforts - he said he wasn't hungry - he was off to get ready for school, leaving me and Miss Bee with a plateful of sugar-dusted goodness. We both ate our fair share, but there were still lots on the plate when we were finished. So what do you do with a plate of leftover homemade doughnuts after your kids go to school? Well, you snack on them all morning, if you're me. And what happens when you snack on homemade pumpkin doughnuts all morning? Nothing, because you feel like a big, lumpy mess. So I got nothing accomplished this morning that I wanted to do. But I'm off doughnuts for awhile.

it's that time of year again...

It's officially spring! Time to change the geese clothes! (photo and description courtesy of http://www.mileskimball.com/)

"Give your geese a hippity-hoppity Easter update with cute bunny outfits, complete with ears! Each stylish ensemble includes bright wicker basket with decorated eggs. Polyester for indoor/protected outdoor use. Imported."