Monday, March 16, 2009
Sunday, March 08, 2009
Its a Cake Walk
Before moving to the midlands, I had heard the term cake walk, but I had no idea what it was. Until our new school started planning their yearly carnival. They went on and on about how important it was to have enough cakes for the cake walk.
Last year at the carnival, Firstborn went into the cake walk himself, but didn't give it a very favorable review because he didn't win. But this year, the boys had a strategy. It was partially fueled by the fact that our now-empty freezer in the basement was the storage arena for some 15 donated cakes from the local grocery store. The thought of those poor frozen cakes sitting down there waiting for the carnival was just too much for the boys. They soon decided that they needed to provide a more permanent home for at least a few of them in their stomachs.
So Friday night, I loaded 15 cakes in my car and drove them to the school where they would join the others to form an army of 300 cakes! With all that booty, the boys decided that their chances were good. They strategized together and decided that if they used all their game tickets on playing the cake walk, they should be able to bring home a lot of cakes.
They worried that we would not get there in time and the best cakes would be gone.
We were there by 10:30 and already people were leaving the building with cakes. The boys worried. But when we arrived in the cafeteria, at least 290 cakes were still there. Right away, the boys got into line and began the play.
Now for those of you who are not initiated in the lore of the cake walk, it is sort of like musical chairs without all the pushing. They set up a path of numbered squares on the floor. The kids proceed around this circular path stepping from one numbered square to the next while music plays. When the music stops, a number is drawn and whoever is on that square wins a cake of their choice.
It took only three plays for Lastborn to win his first cake; but then to choose between so many delicious gems. He chose a one layer Oreo cookie piece and clutched it to his chest. I offered to carry it for him and he seemed reluctant to give it up.
"Can I eat it now?" He asked.
Firstborn was still playing the game. Lastborn went back up to the stage to play again. Both boys came back in a few minutes with a two-layer birthday cake with a thick frosting clown which Firstborn labelled a leprechaun. I guess leprechauns carry bunches of balloons in his mind.
Firstborn was discouraged at this point and sat down with me and the cakes. He convinced Lastborn to go back up and play and even gave Lastborn his remaining tickets.
Moments later, Lastborn came back with a dutch chocolate 2-layer cake with nuts. I asked him why the nuts and he said, "they're nuts? Can I trade it?"
"No," I said. "We'll let Daddy have that one."
They were good with that solution thinking that giving Daddy the nut cake would leave more of the frosting-laden items for them.
We were getting comments on our luck at this point. Firstborn convinced Lastborn to go back up, but this time, he said that he should choose the cake if Lastborn wins.
They came back in moments with a large green sheet cake with blue piping and a yellow rose. Firstborn had chosen carefully based on the required frosting-to-cake ratio.
In my defense, each time I sent them up there to play the game, I did not think that they would really win again. I expected both to have luck like Firstborn's. It was a way to support the school and have fun while doing it. At one point, I was considering slipping a cake or two back on the tables and having the kids continue to play the game. I know the cakes were great, but I think Lastborn was just having a rush at winning something; and even better, being better than his brother at something.
In the end, Lastborn gave the nut cake to his new best friend and we took home the totally over-the-top three frosting-laden pieces to share with our neighbors.
But before leaving, my young entrepreneur, Firstborn, figured out that with Lastborn's luck, we should probably hire him out to walk the cake walk for other people and charge a dollar for each play. We could make a killing.
In addition to our cake walk luck, I also won two baskets in the silent auction. I didn't expect to win anything because we left before noon and the carnival went until 4pm. The only problem with winning the silent auction is that you then have to pay for the items.
Last year at the carnival, Firstborn went into the cake walk himself, but didn't give it a very favorable review because he didn't win. But this year, the boys had a strategy. It was partially fueled by the fact that our now-empty freezer in the basement was the storage arena for some 15 donated cakes from the local grocery store. The thought of those poor frozen cakes sitting down there waiting for the carnival was just too much for the boys. They soon decided that they needed to provide a more permanent home for at least a few of them in their stomachs.
So Friday night, I loaded 15 cakes in my car and drove them to the school where they would join the others to form an army of 300 cakes! With all that booty, the boys decided that their chances were good. They strategized together and decided that if they used all their game tickets on playing the cake walk, they should be able to bring home a lot of cakes.
They worried that we would not get there in time and the best cakes would be gone.
We were there by 10:30 and already people were leaving the building with cakes. The boys worried. But when we arrived in the cafeteria, at least 290 cakes were still there. Right away, the boys got into line and began the play.
Now for those of you who are not initiated in the lore of the cake walk, it is sort of like musical chairs without all the pushing. They set up a path of numbered squares on the floor. The kids proceed around this circular path stepping from one numbered square to the next while music plays. When the music stops, a number is drawn and whoever is on that square wins a cake of their choice.
It took only three plays for Lastborn to win his first cake; but then to choose between so many delicious gems. He chose a one layer Oreo cookie piece and clutched it to his chest. I offered to carry it for him and he seemed reluctant to give it up.
"Can I eat it now?" He asked.
Firstborn was still playing the game. Lastborn went back up to the stage to play again. Both boys came back in a few minutes with a two-layer birthday cake with a thick frosting clown which Firstborn labelled a leprechaun. I guess leprechauns carry bunches of balloons in his mind.
Firstborn was discouraged at this point and sat down with me and the cakes. He convinced Lastborn to go back up and play and even gave Lastborn his remaining tickets.
Moments later, Lastborn came back with a dutch chocolate 2-layer cake with nuts. I asked him why the nuts and he said, "they're nuts? Can I trade it?"
"No," I said. "We'll let Daddy have that one."
They were good with that solution thinking that giving Daddy the nut cake would leave more of the frosting-laden items for them.
We were getting comments on our luck at this point. Firstborn convinced Lastborn to go back up, but this time, he said that he should choose the cake if Lastborn wins.
They came back in moments with a large green sheet cake with blue piping and a yellow rose. Firstborn had chosen carefully based on the required frosting-to-cake ratio.
In my defense, each time I sent them up there to play the game, I did not think that they would really win again. I expected both to have luck like Firstborn's. It was a way to support the school and have fun while doing it. At one point, I was considering slipping a cake or two back on the tables and having the kids continue to play the game. I know the cakes were great, but I think Lastborn was just having a rush at winning something; and even better, being better than his brother at something.
In the end, Lastborn gave the nut cake to his new best friend and we took home the totally over-the-top three frosting-laden pieces to share with our neighbors.
But before leaving, my young entrepreneur, Firstborn, figured out that with Lastborn's luck, we should probably hire him out to walk the cake walk for other people and charge a dollar for each play. We could make a killing.
In addition to our cake walk luck, I also won two baskets in the silent auction. I didn't expect to win anything because we left before noon and the carnival went until 4pm. The only problem with winning the silent auction is that you then have to pay for the items.
Wednesday, February 25, 2009
This is the way my life goes.
So last night, I ran a Destination Imagination Instant Challenge Workshop. As background, I am the building coordinator for Destination for my son's elementary school. As such, I'm supposed to schedule and plan these workshops at the beginning of the year and at the end of the season, just before competition.
The sessions at the beginning of the year are supposed to let the kids try new DI-ish things while the team managers see how they handle the challenges and figure out which kids will work best together. We form the teams from the outcome of those nights. They are easy because once I choose the challenges, compile the materials, and publicize it, my work is done.
But these IC workshops at the end of the season are a bit more work. I need to come up with 4 challenges for each team (we have 6 teams). I need to find people to act as judges for six stations so that we can process 6 teams at a time. I need to compile the materials and label them for the 6 stations. Then I need to provide instructions to the judges so that they know how to run the challenge.
For those not initiated into the DI code world, and instant challenge is a problem that the kids have to solve within a very short time limit. For example, the kids had to build a 12 inch bridge with only two supporting points, using only 6 straws and 25 paper clips. They are given points for whether the structure meets the criteria (12 inches and 2 supporting points), teamwork, and creative use of the objects.
To get through these challenges, the kids need to be able to concentrate, listen, and keep on task for the full 6-8 minutes. Last year, because I was a newbie at this job, I was forced to hold the workshop in the basement of a theatre. It was one big open room and the kids had a hard time concentrating. So this year, I was prepared and got use of the whole school for both workshops. We would locate each IC station at a different corner of the school so the kids could work in peace.
This adds to my job the task of finding locations, assigning them to the judges and then communicating a performance order to each team. Not being a detail oriented person, this whole package takes me days and lots of effort. But I completed it last night and arrived at the school with all my schedules and plans and materials. I set every thing up and while doing so, I noticed that the school was a bit dirtier than it usually is at this time of night. Floors were swept, but the piles of debris were still on the floor, not yet cleaned up. I also noticed a half page advertisement for lice shampoo on a cafeteria table.
Sigh. I'm going to need to rework two of the challenges. One requires a team member to wear a blindfold. Moving the blind fold from one head to another through 4 teams will increase the risk of passing lice. Another challenge requires the building of a sandwich on the head of a team member who is inside the middle of a 6 foot diameter circle. OK, so I've already figured out how to create fake food items so that those who have religious objections to pork will not be offended by having pork on their heads and those allergic to wheat and eggs will not break out into a rash from the bread. Now my fake felt food will become a lice transmission device. What now?
Finally, 1 minute before our start time, the janitor approaches me and tells me that they have sprayed all of the classrooms with a lice killer and it might cause breathing problems for anyone with asthma. One of our team managers is already having problems breathing.
I've got 40 kids ready to do instant challenges and we have to reset all of the instant challenges in the cafeteria. Finally we get started and the first IC goes on without a hitch. I'm starting to get comfortable, though my team has decided that this is all just a joke and they can fool around through it.
We all finish up our tasks and get ready to move on. I find my next station based on my schedule and get the boys started. Another team manager approaches me and tells me that someone else was doing their challenge they just picked up a different station that was not being used. I think it through and realize one of the 6 teams didn't show. So there would be one empty station for each IC time. It will work out.
It turns out that one team manager had decided that since all the stations were in a single room, she could just move around the room in a circle. While everyone else was trying to take the ICs in the order they were assigned. Basically, we experienced a collision in schedules and by the end of the night, all hell broke loose.
The best laid plans of mice and men...
The sessions at the beginning of the year are supposed to let the kids try new DI-ish things while the team managers see how they handle the challenges and figure out which kids will work best together. We form the teams from the outcome of those nights. They are easy because once I choose the challenges, compile the materials, and publicize it, my work is done.
But these IC workshops at the end of the season are a bit more work. I need to come up with 4 challenges for each team (we have 6 teams). I need to find people to act as judges for six stations so that we can process 6 teams at a time. I need to compile the materials and label them for the 6 stations. Then I need to provide instructions to the judges so that they know how to run the challenge.
For those not initiated into the DI code world, and instant challenge is a problem that the kids have to solve within a very short time limit. For example, the kids had to build a 12 inch bridge with only two supporting points, using only 6 straws and 25 paper clips. They are given points for whether the structure meets the criteria (12 inches and 2 supporting points), teamwork, and creative use of the objects.
To get through these challenges, the kids need to be able to concentrate, listen, and keep on task for the full 6-8 minutes. Last year, because I was a newbie at this job, I was forced to hold the workshop in the basement of a theatre. It was one big open room and the kids had a hard time concentrating. So this year, I was prepared and got use of the whole school for both workshops. We would locate each IC station at a different corner of the school so the kids could work in peace.
This adds to my job the task of finding locations, assigning them to the judges and then communicating a performance order to each team. Not being a detail oriented person, this whole package takes me days and lots of effort. But I completed it last night and arrived at the school with all my schedules and plans and materials. I set every thing up and while doing so, I noticed that the school was a bit dirtier than it usually is at this time of night. Floors were swept, but the piles of debris were still on the floor, not yet cleaned up. I also noticed a half page advertisement for lice shampoo on a cafeteria table.
Sigh. I'm going to need to rework two of the challenges. One requires a team member to wear a blindfold. Moving the blind fold from one head to another through 4 teams will increase the risk of passing lice. Another challenge requires the building of a sandwich on the head of a team member who is inside the middle of a 6 foot diameter circle. OK, so I've already figured out how to create fake food items so that those who have religious objections to pork will not be offended by having pork on their heads and those allergic to wheat and eggs will not break out into a rash from the bread. Now my fake felt food will become a lice transmission device. What now?
Finally, 1 minute before our start time, the janitor approaches me and tells me that they have sprayed all of the classrooms with a lice killer and it might cause breathing problems for anyone with asthma. One of our team managers is already having problems breathing.
I've got 40 kids ready to do instant challenges and we have to reset all of the instant challenges in the cafeteria. Finally we get started and the first IC goes on without a hitch. I'm starting to get comfortable, though my team has decided that this is all just a joke and they can fool around through it.
We all finish up our tasks and get ready to move on. I find my next station based on my schedule and get the boys started. Another team manager approaches me and tells me that someone else was doing their challenge they just picked up a different station that was not being used. I think it through and realize one of the 6 teams didn't show. So there would be one empty station for each IC time. It will work out.
It turns out that one team manager had decided that since all the stations were in a single room, she could just move around the room in a circle. While everyone else was trying to take the ICs in the order they were assigned. Basically, we experienced a collision in schedules and by the end of the night, all hell broke loose.
The best laid plans of mice and men...
Tuesday, February 24, 2009
A stiff wind
One big difference about living in Ohio is the wind. I never in my life experienced the kind of winds we get here in the spring and fall. There are many nights I simply don't sleep, convinced that the house is going to blow away. I keep the TV on and watch the little weather warning map to see when we will be freed from the high wind warnings -- or tornado warnings sometimes.
Ike was the monster of all high wind storms. Like a typical non buckeye, I wanted to hide inside and keep the path to my tornado shelter clear while neighbors were outside walking around dodging falling limbs. There was something about the warmth and humidity that day that softened the feel of the winds tricking folks into thinking that it wasn't as bad as it really was. The tree roots facing skyward in my backyard were enough proof to me that man should not be out in that one.
These thoughts all came back to me a couple of weeks ago as we battened down the hatches for another wind storm. This one brought with it a cold air mass after a few days of unseasonably warm muddy weather. Again, the winds were very strong, but because the trees were nearly all leafless, they survived the storm. Except for the evergreens that toppled and snapped.
As I weathered this storm, I resolved to update you on the state of the root balls in our backyard. You may remember that two poplar trees in our yard were felled by the storm.
This was the view of our yard the day after Ike passed through.
After a few days, DH bought a chainsaw and started cutting the wood from the tree in the previous picture. It is actually the only one of the trees on our property. The other tree was a couple inches into the greenbelt behind our land. So this tree was our first priority. Additionally, it landed on our neighbor's shed, so we felt we needed to clean it up.
Miraculously, when DH got to about 8 feet from the roots, the tree slowly tipped back up. It now stands in our back yard with a bird house on top. Maybe some day we will cut it down further, but for now, the 8 foot tall stump is a big improvement over the roots reaching to the sky.
So, DH cut the tree in the greenbelt back hoping that it too would pop back up. But alas, it stayed tipped over and we began to think we would have to string some colored lights on it next winter. It had become a fixture of our backyard landscape. It was fun to show it to people who visited from out of town. They could see some of the might of Ike.
But on Christmas morning when we all came downstairs, DH noticed that the other tree had popped back up. After a couple days of rain the ground was very soft and the wood from the roots must have softened up enough to become flexible again, because now the tree was righted.
It looks much better but the boys are disappointed that they don't get to climb around on it anymore.
Tuesday, February 10, 2009
The best thing you can do for your sons is to keep a messy house
So this weekend, I met with the Destination Imagination boys on Sunday and Monday. I had company on Friday morning and had cleaned the house spotlessly then and DH had a poker game on Saturday night and the guys pretty much trashed the house.
By the DI meeting on Sunday, I had barely gotten the place cleaned up enough to have the boys in. So I was not too bothered by Z making a comment about the dog hair all over the floors. Heck, it's warm. She's shedding. It happens. You have a dog? You have dog hair.
However, I did take a minute to Swiffer through the place after my meetings and errands on Monday before the boys arrived for the next DI meeting. This time, Z was unable to get himself a glass of water from the sink because there were two dirty dishes in the sink. He referred to the sink as dirty because there were two dishes in it. They weren't even very dirty.
Z obviously comes from a home where mom cleans obsessively. And his mom would probably be pretty mortified if she knew he was making comments about my home not being clean.
But it is my feeling that when you keep your home too clean, your kids *will* go to their friends houses and make comments about how dirty their houses are. It's only natural. You are setting their standards too high.
And pity Z's future wife. The poor thing will have to keep that place really clean.
Now, I know a bit of this is probably Z's personality. DH was a neat freak when I married him. He was always making comments about how dusty his mom's house was. I seem to have cured him of that because he can't see dirt in any form now.
My cure? Oh, that. I simply expected him to clean any dirt he saw. After all, we were both working. Ovaries are not cleaning agents.
So, moms. If you ever find your sons complaining about your housecleaning, do your duty for their wives and hand them a sponge or a mop. Lower their expectations. You are doing it for all women.
By the DI meeting on Sunday, I had barely gotten the place cleaned up enough to have the boys in. So I was not too bothered by Z making a comment about the dog hair all over the floors. Heck, it's warm. She's shedding. It happens. You have a dog? You have dog hair.
However, I did take a minute to Swiffer through the place after my meetings and errands on Monday before the boys arrived for the next DI meeting. This time, Z was unable to get himself a glass of water from the sink because there were two dirty dishes in the sink. He referred to the sink as dirty because there were two dishes in it. They weren't even very dirty.
Z obviously comes from a home where mom cleans obsessively. And his mom would probably be pretty mortified if she knew he was making comments about my home not being clean.
But it is my feeling that when you keep your home too clean, your kids *will* go to their friends houses and make comments about how dirty their houses are. It's only natural. You are setting their standards too high.
And pity Z's future wife. The poor thing will have to keep that place really clean.
Now, I know a bit of this is probably Z's personality. DH was a neat freak when I married him. He was always making comments about how dusty his mom's house was. I seem to have cured him of that because he can't see dirt in any form now.
My cure? Oh, that. I simply expected him to clean any dirt he saw. After all, we were both working. Ovaries are not cleaning agents.
So, moms. If you ever find your sons complaining about your housecleaning, do your duty for their wives and hand them a sponge or a mop. Lower their expectations. You are doing it for all women.
How a simple visit to the vet can turn into a lot of money spent
Today I had to bring Nova to the vet. No problems, just that we needed more Advantix and she has been on the cusp of increasing her dose. So we had to weigh her to make sure she had added the two pounds needed to flip her into the higher dose.
Last week, I was so excited to stumble upon the perfect car harness for her at a drastically reduced rate of just $10. I've been looking at this harness at $35 and thinking that I'll just stick with the kennel that takes up the whole back of my car instead of spending $35. She's safe in the kennel and it is an inconvenience, but not worth $35 to fix. But $10? That will work.
Nova is very nervous in the car, but I figured that the short trip to the vet (with no nasty experiences there either) would be the perfect first trip in the harness.
Nova is also very nervous about any new harnesses. She is finally used to the EasyWalk harness and we tried her in the car harness a couple of times. She is not freaked out, but she is nervous.
So, I loaded her into the car to take her to the vet for a weigh in. She's nervous, but OK. She decides to jump off the seat and lay on the floor. Maybe I have hooked her in wrong? but the harness seems to slide up and down the shoulder belt. If I put it on the lap belt, it is too short for her to sit up. It's a size large, so I figured that it was meant to be on the shoulder harness.
When we get to the vet's, she is very nervous and slips out of the harness before I can get her on the EasyWalk. Luckily, she had her collar on, so I strapped her up and headed into the vet. that's when I noticed her dew claw sticking out of her leg in an unnatural way. She didn't seem at all bothered by it.
So, when we went in, I asked the receptionist who looked at it and said she should be seen. (caching!) We waited a few minutes and then were called into an examining room. The tech didn't even look at it. They took her into a back room and started work.
The doctor came out and explained to me that she had broken it high enough to expose some of the pulp but not to cut the quick. So he had cut the end off and wrapped her foot up. Then he put a plastic cover over it to protect the foot. He gave her pain meds and said she should be better in a couple of days.
The poor thing. Her doggie friends will certainly be laughing at her new footwear.
Saturday, February 07, 2009
In which I am reminded that they are not the same person.
Way back in college, I had these two roommates who were polar opposites. One was always depressed and telling me how sad her life was, and the other was always happy, and excited, and bouncing off the walls. I found the contrast too much to deal with, and while I truly liked both women, I could not live with them. I moved into a room with a single roommate and life resumed its normal flows. Interestingly enough, the two polar opposites became best of friends, and without me to buffer them from each other, they both evolved into normally emotive individuals.
I'm thinking of this while sitting on the sofa with my two boys watching TV and winding down for the night. To my left, Lastborn tightly clutches my arm and tries to melt into me. He is very cuddly and loving and needs a certain amount of hugs and tickles all day in order to make it through. On my right, Firstborn barely touches me, resting his head lightly on my shoulder; no other part of his body touches me. He doesn't really like to cuddle or need to cuddle.
In fact, Firstborn would have little to do with touching me until Lastborn came along and would not be physically separated from me. Firstborn sensed that this constant touch was some sort of threat and he began to sit on the arm of the easy chair with me while Lastborn nursed or cuddled. It was interesting and somewhat uncomfortable to see Firstborn cuddle. He was never a natural at it. He never really relaxes while Lastborn almost melts into me. This was all explained when Firstborn was diagnosed when he was 7. He just doesn't like any kind of sensory input. Touching is uncomfortable for him, but he needs to know that his mom loves him and feels competitive with his little brother. So, I accept what he gives me and try to nurture him in other ways besides touch.
It is as odd to have this asymmetrical feeling of contact while they cuddle as it was years ago to deal with the depression and the Pollyanna all in one room. I'm not moving out this time, but I can't help but scratch my head wondering where these two boys came from.
I'm thinking of this while sitting on the sofa with my two boys watching TV and winding down for the night. To my left, Lastborn tightly clutches my arm and tries to melt into me. He is very cuddly and loving and needs a certain amount of hugs and tickles all day in order to make it through. On my right, Firstborn barely touches me, resting his head lightly on my shoulder; no other part of his body touches me. He doesn't really like to cuddle or need to cuddle.
In fact, Firstborn would have little to do with touching me until Lastborn came along and would not be physically separated from me. Firstborn sensed that this constant touch was some sort of threat and he began to sit on the arm of the easy chair with me while Lastborn nursed or cuddled. It was interesting and somewhat uncomfortable to see Firstborn cuddle. He was never a natural at it. He never really relaxes while Lastborn almost melts into me. This was all explained when Firstborn was diagnosed when he was 7. He just doesn't like any kind of sensory input. Touching is uncomfortable for him, but he needs to know that his mom loves him and feels competitive with his little brother. So, I accept what he gives me and try to nurture him in other ways besides touch.
It is as odd to have this asymmetrical feeling of contact while they cuddle as it was years ago to deal with the depression and the Pollyanna all in one room. I'm not moving out this time, but I can't help but scratch my head wondering where these two boys came from.
Thursday, February 05, 2009
Snow Days
One of my favorite Mom things is snow days. They bring back the joy and excitement I remember from my childhood. This is one perk of momhood I will miss when the nest is empty.
Back in MA we (my sons and I) became collectors of snow-day superstitions. And when Firstborn really wants a snow day, he will pull out all of them just to ensure that his wish is granted. Here are a few we have used in the past:
- Spoons under the pillow (all the pillows in the house to be specific. It's hard to find a spoon to use here all winter because they are all under the pillows).
- Ice in the toilet.
- Wearing your PJs inside out (which is a challenge for the son who doesn't wear PJs).
- Snow day dance (they have outgrown this one, or should I say they have decided they are too old for this).
Any others you would like to share will be gladly added to their list.
The spoons are the most popular, followed by the wearing of the PJs inside out.
The ice cubes have been pulled out a total of 3 times this year. The first time was the best. Firstborn went around putting an ice cube in each toilet. He woke up at about 5 the next morning. I asked him why, and he said it was because he had to pee really badly. You see, he had put the ice cubes in the toilet and then he was afraid to pee before they had melted because he didn't want to ruin their magic. We didn't get a snow day and I explained that it would not have affected the snowfall, it would only mean that we would get yellow snow.
Our next tradition, is that if I know its going to be a snow day or I think the probability is very high, I stay in bed in the morning, and they climb in bed with me and we watch the snow closings together. I used to get a kick out of the way they would mispronounce the MA town names.
We have had a lot of mornings cuddling in bed reading school closings this year. It has been fun and I love the reaction they have when they read the city school district name on the screen; total joy and excitement.
On the days when we don't get closed or delayed, they watch the closings until the last minute. Firstborn is not convinced that once Lastborn goes off to school, the game is over and his school will not be closed. He keeps watching.
I was on my computer catching up with my overnight emails when I heard him in the living room saying, "They skipped us."
"What did they skip?"
"Our school," he replied. "They forgot to close our school."
"I don't think they forgot, Firstborn. I think they planned to not close your school."
He grumbled, but this has become the new tradition. Whenever they have school closings and our city is not listed, he says, "they skipped us."
Friday, January 30, 2009
It will change your life
Remember that viral email that went around about how motherhood will change your life? If not, here's a link. Well, I had a few of those moments last night.
Let me preface this story with the fact that my husband has been out of town since very early Monday morning. He's been travelling a lot lately. Almost every other week. We will not go into the fact that these trips are carefully planned to take him out of town for all trash days, large snowfalls, and my nights out with the girls. Luckily, I have finally found a babysitter who is not scared of my dog, so the nights out with the girls are very doable now.
... unless the weather is horrible, which it has been this week.
So it is Thursday night and I'm running on empty after a whole week of single parenting and two snow days stuck in the house and the night out with the girls cancelled because southern Ohio doesn't know how to manage snow and ice. I've left my older son home alone because the state says he is old enough now and I suppose, I sort of agree. I'm taking my younger son to swim lessons. It's my first time taking him, so I'm sort of nervous. Do I have the right class time? Does he really know how to change himself in the men's locker room? We are asking him to shower before he changes to get the chlorine off. Will he be able to use the showers in the men's room?
I stand outside the men's room waiting, and waiting, and waiting. One by one, the boys with their fathers come out. As the crowd in the locker room dwindles, I notice that I can hear Lastborn's voice. He's goofing off with someone in there. Now Lastborn is sort of a slow child. His entire life is on his time. It drives his teachers nuts and drives his father even nuttier. But he lives in his own world. I usually handle him with humor. Why go crazy over something I will never be able to change.
So, I start calling into the men's room. "Hurry up! What's taking so long?"
10 minutes later, "I'm putting on my shirt." 15 minutes after that, I have to call in again. Finally, he strolls out of the men's room 28 minutes after class let out. It was a half hour class. His hair is wet, his pants have large wet spots. Knowing I'm dealing with dreamy here, I check his bag for his belongings. Goggles? Check. Towel? Check. Bathing suit? Nope.
"Where's your bathing suit?"
"Under my pants."
"Why? I thought the idea was to change."
"Oh. I was wondering why you sent me in there."
"So, you are sopping wet and it's three degrees outside. Did you at least try to dry off?"
"Well... I did, but my towel was wet. I kind of put it on the floor in the shower and it got all wet."
"Generally, things on the floor in the shower tend to do that. I kinda knew you would do that."
"How did you know?"
"This may be hard for you to believe, but when I was a child, I was kind of spacey like you and I did things like putting my towel on the floor of the shower. I had to learn from my mistakes."
Lastborn thinks this is funny. We make our way to the car with Lastborn complaining about how cold he is.
On the way home, I ask him how he would feel if I joined all the old people doing water aerobics in the pool next to where he has class.
"No way," he says making a vomiting sound.
In the mood to bait my wise-alec son, I press him. "Why not?"
"You would have to wear a bikini and that's just gross."
This makes me laugh. Where does he get these ideas.
Calming him, I reply, "No, I wouldn't wear a bikini. Do you know what a bikini is?"
"Of course I do. I see them on cartoons all the time."
"Well, I couldn't wear a bikini, there would be nothing to control my stomach and I'd be jumping around in the water, I might knock out another person in the class with that big belly."
To which he responds, (and this quote must be the best ever) "Mom, you are not as fat as you look!"
I feel so much better now. Let's all go out for pizza and ice cream sundaes.
The really cute part about it is that he really wanted to make me feel better. He's a doll.
The night doesn't end there. We got home and I sent Lastborn on to bed with only 15 minutes left to deal with Firstborn's math issues.
But before we could do that, I noticed that there were only 2 plates in the sink. I opened the microwave where I had left the burritos that were to be his dinner and, sure enough, they were still there! Even though I had told him on our way out that dinner was in the microwave for him. (didn't want the dog eating his burritos. She has bad enough gas without giving her beans.)
So, he eats his burritos and we start to go over his math. He has a test today and he is unsure of how to study. After school, I had him go over the questions at the end of the section, and now we were going to go over them together. In the end, it's 8:15 by the time we are done and he has to get to bed.
He thanked me nicely, which was a great turnaround from the screaming he had given me earlier because I made him do the problems before going out to play in the snow with his friends after school.
I pointed out that it was even better because he got to stay up 15 minutes extra.
"Oh boy. Fifteen minutes." He replied in his best pre-teen snark.
"Yes, but it was 15 minutes spent with your wonderful mother," I countered.
"It would have been better if it was 15 minutes on the computer." He continued to snark.
I guess I should have just taken the thank you and run with it. However, from now on, I will remind him about how he would rather spend 15 minutes with the computer than with his mother every time he wants something from me. "Just go ask the computer to take you to the pool with your friends," I'll say. He knew as he walked up the stairs to bed that he had certainly stuck his size 8s firmly into his mouth on that one.
But he said thank you. And that's enough.
Let me preface this story with the fact that my husband has been out of town since very early Monday morning. He's been travelling a lot lately. Almost every other week. We will not go into the fact that these trips are carefully planned to take him out of town for all trash days, large snowfalls, and my nights out with the girls. Luckily, I have finally found a babysitter who is not scared of my dog, so the nights out with the girls are very doable now.
... unless the weather is horrible, which it has been this week.
So it is Thursday night and I'm running on empty after a whole week of single parenting and two snow days stuck in the house and the night out with the girls cancelled because southern Ohio doesn't know how to manage snow and ice. I've left my older son home alone because the state says he is old enough now and I suppose, I sort of agree. I'm taking my younger son to swim lessons. It's my first time taking him, so I'm sort of nervous. Do I have the right class time? Does he really know how to change himself in the men's locker room? We are asking him to shower before he changes to get the chlorine off. Will he be able to use the showers in the men's room?
I stand outside the men's room waiting, and waiting, and waiting. One by one, the boys with their fathers come out. As the crowd in the locker room dwindles, I notice that I can hear Lastborn's voice. He's goofing off with someone in there. Now Lastborn is sort of a slow child. His entire life is on his time. It drives his teachers nuts and drives his father even nuttier. But he lives in his own world. I usually handle him with humor. Why go crazy over something I will never be able to change.
So, I start calling into the men's room. "Hurry up! What's taking so long?"
10 minutes later, "I'm putting on my shirt." 15 minutes after that, I have to call in again. Finally, he strolls out of the men's room 28 minutes after class let out. It was a half hour class. His hair is wet, his pants have large wet spots. Knowing I'm dealing with dreamy here, I check his bag for his belongings. Goggles? Check. Towel? Check. Bathing suit? Nope.
"Where's your bathing suit?"
"Under my pants."
"Why? I thought the idea was to change."
"Oh. I was wondering why you sent me in there."
"So, you are sopping wet and it's three degrees outside. Did you at least try to dry off?"
"Well... I did, but my towel was wet. I kind of put it on the floor in the shower and it got all wet."
"Generally, things on the floor in the shower tend to do that. I kinda knew you would do that."
"How did you know?"
"This may be hard for you to believe, but when I was a child, I was kind of spacey like you and I did things like putting my towel on the floor of the shower. I had to learn from my mistakes."
Lastborn thinks this is funny. We make our way to the car with Lastborn complaining about how cold he is.
On the way home, I ask him how he would feel if I joined all the old people doing water aerobics in the pool next to where he has class.
"No way," he says making a vomiting sound.
In the mood to bait my wise-alec son, I press him. "Why not?"
"You would have to wear a bikini and that's just gross."
This makes me laugh. Where does he get these ideas.
Calming him, I reply, "No, I wouldn't wear a bikini. Do you know what a bikini is?"
"Of course I do. I see them on cartoons all the time."
"Well, I couldn't wear a bikini, there would be nothing to control my stomach and I'd be jumping around in the water, I might knock out another person in the class with that big belly."
To which he responds, (and this quote must be the best ever) "Mom, you are not as fat as you look!"
I feel so much better now. Let's all go out for pizza and ice cream sundaes.
The really cute part about it is that he really wanted to make me feel better. He's a doll.
The night doesn't end there. We got home and I sent Lastborn on to bed with only 15 minutes left to deal with Firstborn's math issues.
But before we could do that, I noticed that there were only 2 plates in the sink. I opened the microwave where I had left the burritos that were to be his dinner and, sure enough, they were still there! Even though I had told him on our way out that dinner was in the microwave for him. (didn't want the dog eating his burritos. She has bad enough gas without giving her beans.)
So, he eats his burritos and we start to go over his math. He has a test today and he is unsure of how to study. After school, I had him go over the questions at the end of the section, and now we were going to go over them together. In the end, it's 8:15 by the time we are done and he has to get to bed.
He thanked me nicely, which was a great turnaround from the screaming he had given me earlier because I made him do the problems before going out to play in the snow with his friends after school.
I pointed out that it was even better because he got to stay up 15 minutes extra.
"Oh boy. Fifteen minutes." He replied in his best pre-teen snark.
"Yes, but it was 15 minutes spent with your wonderful mother," I countered.
"It would have been better if it was 15 minutes on the computer." He continued to snark.
I guess I should have just taken the thank you and run with it. However, from now on, I will remind him about how he would rather spend 15 minutes with the computer than with his mother every time he wants something from me. "Just go ask the computer to take you to the pool with your friends," I'll say. He knew as he walked up the stairs to bed that he had certainly stuck his size 8s firmly into his mouth on that one.
But he said thank you. And that's enough.
Thursday, January 29, 2009
Destructo
After 2 snow days stuck at home, I finally got the chance to slip out of the house to get my brake light fixed. While Ohio does not do inspections every year to catch this kind of stuff, I kinda feel like the local constabulary might have a bit too much fun writing a ticket for this east coast snob were I to be caught with my tail light out.
This past week, I had decided to widen Nova's territory for her alone times. I was moving the gate to cover the front hallway and closing my office door. This effectively gives her the kitchen, dining room and family room.
Only three rooms for me to scour for edibles before I leave and if I keep on top of things, it should only take a couple of minutes.
That is, if I remember to close my office door.
Which I did not do today. So she got out through my office into the living room.
This past week, I had decided to widen Nova's territory for her alone times. I was moving the gate to cover the front hallway and closing my office door. This effectively gives her the kitchen, dining room and family room.
Only three rooms for me to scour for edibles before I leave and if I keep on top of things, it should only take a couple of minutes.
That is, if I remember to close my office door.
Which I did not do today. So she got out through my office into the living room.
From the living room, she got to the front hall and collected the family's boots into a pile in the living room. Then upstairs to Firstborn's room to collect different pieces of K'nex. I wonder how many trips upstairs it took to collect this pile.
Then she went up to Lastborn's room and got his new slinky. It's not a slinky anymore.
I just love the look of disgust on Georgia's face in this picture.
While in Lastborn's room, she decided to destroy this cat toy.
Sigh.
Friday, December 19, 2008
Holes
So I am hosting half of my family for Christmas. We will have 10 people living here for a few days and the stress levels will probably be pretty high. My dad will need to figure out strategies for getting around my house and generally making himself comfortable and we will need to find a place to let the kids hang out without driving us up the wall.
I've spent the past two weeks baking cookies, wrapping presents, making gift card holders and decorating for Christmas. Oh ya, and publishing two newsletters for two different organizations.
And today we are holding Firstborn's 12th birthday party.
The weather here has been terrible with record cold days and an ice storm to make us all feel jolly and bright. But today, after the pouring rain of the morning, the sun broke through for a brief period and heated us up to a balmy 59 degrees. I ventured outside to put up the last of the decorations while the ground wasn't soggy or frozen solid. Nova accompanied me, glad for the companionship.
When at one point, I thought I saw her head disappear from the corner of my eye. I turned quickly enough to see her pull it out of a hole in which she had hidden her head all the way to her shoulders. When did she create this masterpiece in my front yard and what in heck am I to do about it. She must have run into a network of mole tunnels when she was digging in the yard.
Now the frozen ground doesn't seem like such a bad thing. At least she can't dig when it is frozen.
Sigh.
I've spent the past two weeks baking cookies, wrapping presents, making gift card holders and decorating for Christmas. Oh ya, and publishing two newsletters for two different organizations.
And today we are holding Firstborn's 12th birthday party.
The weather here has been terrible with record cold days and an ice storm to make us all feel jolly and bright. But today, after the pouring rain of the morning, the sun broke through for a brief period and heated us up to a balmy 59 degrees. I ventured outside to put up the last of the decorations while the ground wasn't soggy or frozen solid. Nova accompanied me, glad for the companionship.
When at one point, I thought I saw her head disappear from the corner of my eye. I turned quickly enough to see her pull it out of a hole in which she had hidden her head all the way to her shoulders. When did she create this masterpiece in my front yard and what in heck am I to do about it. She must have run into a network of mole tunnels when she was digging in the yard.
Now the frozen ground doesn't seem like such a bad thing. At least she can't dig when it is frozen.
Sigh.
Sunday, November 30, 2008
They're off on the hunt
Yesterday morning at 3am, the guys headed off to their hunting trip in western PA. For those of you who object to hunting, don't worry, I'm sure no deer will be hurt on this trip. This particular group of hunters has not come back with anything in about 7 years and I'm sure DHs lack of experience will not improve their lot at all.
Even so, we were not willing to let this trip go without a fair amount of ribbing. DH is taking a lot of gruff from the hunting party because this is his first trip and they feel the need to haze him. They are approaching his hazing in a rather adult way that can't be described on this blog. But they are very much making him the butt of their jokes, so to speak.
We, however are taking the Save Bambi approach. And so on the night after Thanksgiving, after a spaghetti and clam sauce dinner with the neighbors and our Kansas relatives, we plotted and laughed and came up with a few prime ideas.
The next day, Marianne and I headed out to see the Westcott House in Springfield, OH and on our way, we stopped at Centerville's own brand new Christmas Tree Shop (don't you just love a bargain?). Our aim was to pick up a few deer-related decorations to use in our plans.
The Christmas Tree Shop did not fail to provide us with all the wares we needed. A pair of antlers for Nova's head, a light up reindeer that nods it's head up and down, and a decorative door hanger in the shape of the head of a deer. It made the whole trip out on black Friday worth it. And we got 20% off everything we purchased.
At about 9PM on Friday night, DH headed upstairs to take a shower and hit the sack before his early wake-up call. We brought the light-up deer in and began to assemble it. We did not notice the directions attached to the little plastic bag on the plug, so we really struggled with this. Just for fun, we applied the antlers to Nova, and Marianne began to decorate the deer head with a few tears in silver Sharpie. A little sign reading "Please don't kill me!" would round out the decorations.
As we struggled to put the light-up deer together, Nova wandered around the kitchen in her antlers, and Marianne was decorating the deer face, DH decided he had to come downstairs to wrap up some last packing things. Cousin J warned us he was coming, and I ran out to the garage to stash the light-up reindeer while Marianne hid the deer face. We did our best innocent act.
Then he went out to the garage. Why? I hoped he didn't' notice the light up deer. Marianne and I were looking at each other across the kitchen with worry. As DH returned to the kitchen, I noticed that Nova still had her antlers on and she was prancing around the kitchen. I mouthed to Marianne, who was closer to her, to take the antlers off and she deftly slipped them off Nova's head. We hoped DH hadn't seen.
We had to wait until 10 to get out and set up the decorations. Our next door neighbor Miss T was in on the joke and planned to help us get into the car and set things up. The idea was to strap the lighted nodding deer onto the hood of their car like hunters do with their catch. But Miss T was asleep already. So Marianne and I had to set him up in the drive in front of Miss T's Car. That was the car the guys were taking on the hunt. We also could not put the crying deer face on the dashboard of the passenger seat where DH was going to sit for the ride. So we hung it on the mirror.
The next morning at 2:30, I was awakened to DH getting ready for the trip. So I slipped the antlers over Nova's head so he could see them when he came out of the bathroom. He almost didn't notice. So I asked him if he was going to leave without saying goodbye to his dog. Then he noticed. Nova was lying on the bed next to me with her head hanging sadly off the side. She doesn't really like these antlers and I think she was feeling a bit sorry for herself. So she looked like a sad dog-deer. Perfect. He cracked up and told her he was off to kill her sister.
I heard from Miss T later that day that the boys loved the light up reindeer in the drive way and the next day I got to talk to DH who appreciated the crying deer face on his door.
But wait till he returns. I plan on stringing that light-up-reindeer-with-the-head-that-nods-up-and-down up in a tree by it's back legs. This will probably be the only deer these guys get to see strung up in a tree. I'll have to take a picture when I do.
Even so, we were not willing to let this trip go without a fair amount of ribbing. DH is taking a lot of gruff from the hunting party because this is his first trip and they feel the need to haze him. They are approaching his hazing in a rather adult way that can't be described on this blog. But they are very much making him the butt of their jokes, so to speak.
We, however are taking the Save Bambi approach. And so on the night after Thanksgiving, after a spaghetti and clam sauce dinner with the neighbors and our Kansas relatives, we plotted and laughed and came up with a few prime ideas.
The next day, Marianne and I headed out to see the Westcott House in Springfield, OH and on our way, we stopped at Centerville's own brand new Christmas Tree Shop (don't you just love a bargain?). Our aim was to pick up a few deer-related decorations to use in our plans.
The Christmas Tree Shop did not fail to provide us with all the wares we needed. A pair of antlers for Nova's head, a light up reindeer that nods it's head up and down, and a decorative door hanger in the shape of the head of a deer. It made the whole trip out on black Friday worth it. And we got 20% off everything we purchased.
At about 9PM on Friday night, DH headed upstairs to take a shower and hit the sack before his early wake-up call. We brought the light-up deer in and began to assemble it. We did not notice the directions attached to the little plastic bag on the plug, so we really struggled with this. Just for fun, we applied the antlers to Nova, and Marianne began to decorate the deer head with a few tears in silver Sharpie. A little sign reading "Please don't kill me!" would round out the decorations.
As we struggled to put the light-up deer together, Nova wandered around the kitchen in her antlers, and Marianne was decorating the deer face, DH decided he had to come downstairs to wrap up some last packing things. Cousin J warned us he was coming, and I ran out to the garage to stash the light-up reindeer while Marianne hid the deer face. We did our best innocent act.
Then he went out to the garage. Why? I hoped he didn't' notice the light up deer. Marianne and I were looking at each other across the kitchen with worry. As DH returned to the kitchen, I noticed that Nova still had her antlers on and she was prancing around the kitchen. I mouthed to Marianne, who was closer to her, to take the antlers off and she deftly slipped them off Nova's head. We hoped DH hadn't seen.
We had to wait until 10 to get out and set up the decorations. Our next door neighbor Miss T was in on the joke and planned to help us get into the car and set things up. The idea was to strap the lighted nodding deer onto the hood of their car like hunters do with their catch. But Miss T was asleep already. So Marianne and I had to set him up in the drive in front of Miss T's Car. That was the car the guys were taking on the hunt. We also could not put the crying deer face on the dashboard of the passenger seat where DH was going to sit for the ride. So we hung it on the mirror.
The next morning at 2:30, I was awakened to DH getting ready for the trip. So I slipped the antlers over Nova's head so he could see them when he came out of the bathroom. He almost didn't notice. So I asked him if he was going to leave without saying goodbye to his dog. Then he noticed. Nova was lying on the bed next to me with her head hanging sadly off the side. She doesn't really like these antlers and I think she was feeling a bit sorry for herself. So she looked like a sad dog-deer. Perfect. He cracked up and told her he was off to kill her sister.
I heard from Miss T later that day that the boys loved the light up reindeer in the drive way and the next day I got to talk to DH who appreciated the crying deer face on his door.
But wait till he returns. I plan on stringing that light-up-reindeer-with-the-head-that-nods-up-and-down up in a tree by it's back legs. This will probably be the only deer these guys get to see strung up in a tree. I'll have to take a picture when I do.
Wednesday, November 26, 2008
Hole
Yesterday, Lastborn was home from school with a mild stomach bug. Firstborn needed me to bring him into school to sign a permission slip he had forgotten to bring home.
DH could not stay with Lastborn because he had a 9:00 meeting. So, I had to drag Lastborn with me to the middle school.
On our walk from the car to the school entrance we passed a piece of plywood obviously covering a freshly dug hole. The plywood was labelled Hole in red spraypaint. This label must have been placed there for the 8 year old who would be passing by because said 8 year old did not fail to notice the hole and almost moved the plywood and climbed in had I not been aware enough to yell "Leave it!" at him.
Yes, I am yelling dog commands at my son. And yes, he responds quite well; better than the dog sometimes. It's OK. We're stashing away a buck here-or-there to pay for his eventual visits with the shrink.
DH could not stay with Lastborn because he had a 9:00 meeting. So, I had to drag Lastborn with me to the middle school.
On our walk from the car to the school entrance we passed a piece of plywood obviously covering a freshly dug hole. The plywood was labelled Hole in red spraypaint. This label must have been placed there for the 8 year old who would be passing by because said 8 year old did not fail to notice the hole and almost moved the plywood and climbed in had I not been aware enough to yell "Leave it!" at him.
Yes, I am yelling dog commands at my son. And yes, he responds quite well; better than the dog sometimes. It's OK. We're stashing away a buck here-or-there to pay for his eventual visits with the shrink.
Monday, November 24, 2008
Second Place
One of the things that Lastborn struggles with is low self confidence. He never got to see his big brother struggle, and he thinks that if you struggle, you must not be very smart/strong/whatever. So he will often give up quickly or cop an attitude to get out of doing something he thinks he can't do.
Since attending Kumon this summer for math, he has learned that sometimes, if you work at something you think you can't do, not only can you learn to do it, but you might actually be good at it. So we are seeing less of a struggle with trying things.
For example, his first year of pinewood derby, he wanted to stick the wheels on and race a wooden colored block, not paint, no cutting, no decorations, We finally compromised at this:
And he did well, until the wheel came off. This gave him hope and he allowed a single cut the next year and painted the car red. The wheel fell off that one too.
Last year, Dad helped put the wheels on. We put the extra work of deburring the wheels, adding graphite and weight. The car was perfect in every way. It didn't do too well though. But Lastborn was happy. His big fear is that he will make a fool of himself. And he proved that he could do pretty well. This is the 2008 car.
We will see what 2009 brings.
But before the 2009 pinewood races, we had to get through the 2008 raingutter regatta. We've never done a raingutter regatta before, so we weren't sure what would happen. Again, Lastborn didn't want to even try. A plain wooden boat with his name on it was all he wanted. In fact, for this race that is all that was needed. It's more the skill of blowing on the sail in the right position than anythign having to do with physics or design. But Dad was able to convince him to go with a cool hammered metal spraypaint and I was able to suggest a Bakugan theme. He had fun working on this boat and because the theme was so popular, he knew he would not make a fool of himself.
Since attending Kumon this summer for math, he has learned that sometimes, if you work at something you think you can't do, not only can you learn to do it, but you might actually be good at it. So we are seeing less of a struggle with trying things.
For example, his first year of pinewood derby, he wanted to stick the wheels on and race a wooden colored block, not paint, no cutting, no decorations, We finally compromised at this:
And he did well, until the wheel came off. This gave him hope and he allowed a single cut the next year and painted the car red. The wheel fell off that one too.Last year, Dad helped put the wheels on. We put the extra work of deburring the wheels, adding graphite and weight. The car was perfect in every way. It didn't do too well though. But Lastborn was happy. His big fear is that he will make a fool of himself. And he proved that he could do pretty well. This is the 2008 car.
We will see what 2009 brings.But before the 2009 pinewood races, we had to get through the 2008 raingutter regatta. We've never done a raingutter regatta before, so we weren't sure what would happen. Again, Lastborn didn't want to even try. A plain wooden boat with his name on it was all he wanted. In fact, for this race that is all that was needed. It's more the skill of blowing on the sail in the right position than anythign having to do with physics or design. But Dad was able to convince him to go with a cool hammered metal spraypaint and I was able to suggest a Bakugan theme. He had fun working on this boat and because the theme was so popular, he knew he would not make a fool of himself.
His cub leader made a neat block that the boat can rest on with 2008 written on it.
Lastborn entered the first race. He had watched a friend get left at the starting gate in the previous race. So, he was very worried. It would be his worst fear to not be able to make his boat move and since the friend who faltered in the last race was very into scouting, Lastborn figured he didn't stand a chance. The race official called a start to the race and Lastborn concentrated on the instructions I gave him to blow low on the mast to keep the boat from tipping. The boat jumped forward almost halfway down the gutter in one gust of Lastborn's Scalzi hot air. You could see the look of surprise on Lastborn's face. He gave it a couple more blows before his opponent even got his boat to leave the starting line and won the race handily. This meant he would wait for the winners round.
Again, we worried when Lastborn stepped up for his first winner's round. He was going against the boy who pummelled his friend. Lastborn knew his boat was fast, but everyone figured this kid's boat was the best. He had a different design to his mast and sail. But his opponent's boat kept getting snagged on the sides of the gutter and Lastborn's wind was true. He handily won that race too.
All that was left was the final race for 1st or 2nd place. This is where Lastborn's luck ran out. His boat kept getting hung up on the sides of the gutter and he came in second. He was sad, but very happy that he had gotten second instead of coming in last. I'm sure he will be looking forward to next year's race and ready to get a bit creative with his boat design.
Sunday, November 23, 2008
He finds his voice
Being Lastborn has its advantages. I remember a friend telling me she felt guilty with how strict she was with her firstborn child and how lenient she was with her third. I wouldn't call myself lenient. It's not in my nature, but I certainly know better which battles to wage than I did on my first go around.
Lastborn is beginning to realize that the older brother he used to idolize has his weaknesses. For example, Firstborn sets him up to get into trouble. He can't always be trusted by his fan club. Lastborn is also realizing that not everything that Firstborn likes is necessarily great and not everything Firstborn thinks is boring is actually that much of a drag.
These changes can sometimes be a lot for Lastborn to take, though he rarely goes around whining about the loss of his idol.
Lastborn is mixing this loss of his leader with a new found understanding that he is smart and interesting on his own. He is beginning to try things even if they aren't recommended by Firstborn. He is also beginning to fight for his rights under the tyranny of Firstborn.
So yesterday, we were beginning a wonderful Saturday with nothing on our agenda. Being adults, we awake to days like this with great glee. Nothing to do. Nowhere to run around. Maybe I can do what I want to do today.
In fact, these days usually end up with the kids plastered to the electronics and fighting about who gets a turn, or will you help me with this part. Since Firstborn is officially a tween, he relishes torturing Lastborn by not complying with his requests. And he has an amazing ability to ignore Lastborn's whines.
I do not.
So I began my first yelling tirade of the day. "Everyone gets only one hour today, so play it and get out. We're not sitting in front of the game system all day rotting our brains and arguing." And yada yada yada.
Firstborn continued to press, "how about the PC? How about hand helds? Do we really have to not play games all day? No I won't read. No I won't play outside. None of my friends want to play because they get to sit in front of the game system and rot their brains!"
... and on and on.
I warned him.
So they lost all electronics for the day with the threat that it would be for November!
I had to give Lastborn credit. He did call his friends. No one was available.
Rewind to last weekend. No rewind further to this summer when we returned from vacation and found that someone had chewed the plugs off two of our lights.
It probably wasn't the kids this time.
It could have been the puppy, but she was either locked up or under supervision in this room, so that was hard to believe. However, she chews on everything.
But then that cats chew on everything too. It must have been the cats.
Whoever, we had to rewire the lamps. One was easy, just a new cord. ba da bing, it was done. The other was made so that you couldn't get to the connections for the socket. So there was no way to remove and replace the cord. DH bought a new socket but we never got to fixing it. Then I saw in Lastborn's Cub Scout book that fixing a small appliance is an elective, so I figured we would do it together.
Last week, we finally got a chance. He was reluctant, but when I started having him wrap wires around screws and use a Phillips head to tighten the screw himself, he began to take interest and ask questions. I was surprised. He's not as much the engineer personality as his brother. He's disorganized and imprecise; more the artistic type. He's very into interacting with others and bending the rules. But he was very interested and so proud of himself when he switched the lamp on.
So when he was looking for something to do, and I was sick of playing board games with him, I pulled out the Snap Circuits set that DH had gotten for Firstborn years ago. Firstborn has done a few circuits and liked it, but never loved it.
We did the first circuit together and I explained to Lastborn that the pieces snap together sort of like Legos. There are pictures to tell him what to do and there are all kinds of attachments to use to make things. Once we finished the first circuit, he was off on his own and had the greatest time hooking up sound boxes and making serial and parallel circuits. By the end of the day, he had completed about 40 of the circuits. DH promised him that if he completed all of them, he could use the other bigger set he had in his closet. So Lastborn finished all of them this morning.
He announced at dinner that he didn't need gamecube. Circuits were just as fun as playing video games. Not only that, but he carefully kept track of each piece placing them back into their plastic compartments between each build. He even remembered favorite circuits and built them from memory to show us.
I think a light went on for him. (Sorry.)
Lastborn is beginning to realize that the older brother he used to idolize has his weaknesses. For example, Firstborn sets him up to get into trouble. He can't always be trusted by his fan club. Lastborn is also realizing that not everything that Firstborn likes is necessarily great and not everything Firstborn thinks is boring is actually that much of a drag.
These changes can sometimes be a lot for Lastborn to take, though he rarely goes around whining about the loss of his idol.
Lastborn is mixing this loss of his leader with a new found understanding that he is smart and interesting on his own. He is beginning to try things even if they aren't recommended by Firstborn. He is also beginning to fight for his rights under the tyranny of Firstborn.
So yesterday, we were beginning a wonderful Saturday with nothing on our agenda. Being adults, we awake to days like this with great glee. Nothing to do. Nowhere to run around. Maybe I can do what I want to do today.
In fact, these days usually end up with the kids plastered to the electronics and fighting about who gets a turn, or will you help me with this part. Since Firstborn is officially a tween, he relishes torturing Lastborn by not complying with his requests. And he has an amazing ability to ignore Lastborn's whines.
I do not.
So I began my first yelling tirade of the day. "Everyone gets only one hour today, so play it and get out. We're not sitting in front of the game system all day rotting our brains and arguing." And yada yada yada.
Firstborn continued to press, "how about the PC? How about hand helds? Do we really have to not play games all day? No I won't read. No I won't play outside. None of my friends want to play because they get to sit in front of the game system and rot their brains!"
... and on and on.
I warned him.
So they lost all electronics for the day with the threat that it would be for November!
I had to give Lastborn credit. He did call his friends. No one was available.
Rewind to last weekend. No rewind further to this summer when we returned from vacation and found that someone had chewed the plugs off two of our lights.
It probably wasn't the kids this time.
It could have been the puppy, but she was either locked up or under supervision in this room, so that was hard to believe. However, she chews on everything.
But then that cats chew on everything too. It must have been the cats.
Whoever, we had to rewire the lamps. One was easy, just a new cord. ba da bing, it was done. The other was made so that you couldn't get to the connections for the socket. So there was no way to remove and replace the cord. DH bought a new socket but we never got to fixing it. Then I saw in Lastborn's Cub Scout book that fixing a small appliance is an elective, so I figured we would do it together.
Last week, we finally got a chance. He was reluctant, but when I started having him wrap wires around screws and use a Phillips head to tighten the screw himself, he began to take interest and ask questions. I was surprised. He's not as much the engineer personality as his brother. He's disorganized and imprecise; more the artistic type. He's very into interacting with others and bending the rules. But he was very interested and so proud of himself when he switched the lamp on.
So when he was looking for something to do, and I was sick of playing board games with him, I pulled out the Snap Circuits set that DH had gotten for Firstborn years ago. Firstborn has done a few circuits and liked it, but never loved it.
We did the first circuit together and I explained to Lastborn that the pieces snap together sort of like Legos. There are pictures to tell him what to do and there are all kinds of attachments to use to make things. Once we finished the first circuit, he was off on his own and had the greatest time hooking up sound boxes and making serial and parallel circuits. By the end of the day, he had completed about 40 of the circuits. DH promised him that if he completed all of them, he could use the other bigger set he had in his closet. So Lastborn finished all of them this morning.
He announced at dinner that he didn't need gamecube. Circuits were just as fun as playing video games. Not only that, but he carefully kept track of each piece placing them back into their plastic compartments between each build. He even remembered favorite circuits and built them from memory to show us.
I think a light went on for him. (Sorry.)
Sunday, November 16, 2008
Miss. Communication
So this weekend, Firstborn went on a 25 mile bike ride with the boy scouts. Well, sort of. He went to the bike trail (about 45 minutes away) and stayed overnight, but it was raining and snowing and the leaders (bless them) felt that the mixture of fall leaves on the ground with rain and snow was an unsafe combination and so the boys just stayed at the camp for the day so that one of them could finish an outdoor cooking requirement. They came back last night cold, tired, and wishing they had never gone.
It's the back story that is really interesting.
You see, we have been putting off buying Firstborn an adult bike because 1) it took him so long to ride, 2) he showed absolutely no interest in getting an adult bike even after the neighbor's twins got adult bikes, and 3) we had a hand-me-down teen bike that still fit him. So, when he announced that he wanted to join the BS troop on the 25 mile ride and we couldn't nudge him to understand that this was a long way to go for your first distance ride, we decided that he probably needed something more grown up with larger wheels.
I looked around on line for an American made 18 or 21 speed bike. I still can't get over the fact that 10 speeds just isn't enough. Target carries some really nice Schwinns that were somewhat in our budget, but DH really wanted to fit him and buy from a small bike shop where they know what they are selling. So off he went with Firstborn and they came home with a Japanese made 21 speed bike that cost a wee bit more than I wanted to spend. DH believed the line about American made bikes are either crap or too expensive. The only American made model at this shop was over $1,000. As you read this back-story, you will know why a $1,000 bike is just not acceptable for an 11 year old boy.
Firstborn is very happy with the bike though, which is very important. He rode it a bit, wiped out once, and didn't really make us feel any better about the upcoming 25 mile ride in the freezing cold. However, I'm trying not to be the overly protective mum who doesn't let him do anything.
So, Wednesday night, he headed out for his pack-out. This is a time when the boys get together and pack the supplies (tents, gas cookers, rope, TP, etc) that they will need for the trip into the troop trailer. I had a meeting scheduled at my house and DH was out of town on business. So I arranged to have some friends drive him to and from the pack-out.
When he arrived home, I sent him straight to bed because it was late and he didn't say much. I later went outside to bring the garbage to the curb because DH always seems to plan his travel around garbage days. I notice the bike was gone. I was kicking myself for leaving the garage door opened. Our investment was gone and Firstborn would not be able to go on the bike trip. This last point I was ambivalent on. I knew he would be crushed but at least I wouldn't have to worry about him freezing to death. I tried to call DH but he was not answering. So I called the sheriff's office to report the robbery.
The sheriff's deputy came that night and took the report where I explained the missing bike. He asked if it could be anywhere else and I confirmed that the bike was in the garage when my son went to his BS event and it couldn't be anywhere else.
I lost a lot of sleep that night upset over the loss of this bike. DH never called back. I had to handle the whole thing alone, including breaking the news to Firstborn. He got up early Thursday to finish some homework he had not finished.
I knew he was still a little sleepy, but I wanted to get it over with quickly. I told him his bike was stolen. He looked confused and asked how. I explained that the bike was missing from the garage when I took the garbage out and someone must have grabbed it while he was at his meeting. Still confused, he said, "but I loaded it onto the trailer last night."
"What trailer," I replied.
"The Boyscout trailer. "
"You brought the bike to the pack-out?"
"No, the leader brought me home and when we got home we loaded the bike."
Guess who had to call the sheriff and tell them that it was all a false alarm.
And guess who had to send her boy off on a 25 mile bike ride in the freezing cold snow and rain.
But guess who was relieved that the bike wasn't stolen and survived the whole ordeal.
It's the back story that is really interesting.
You see, we have been putting off buying Firstborn an adult bike because 1) it took him so long to ride, 2) he showed absolutely no interest in getting an adult bike even after the neighbor's twins got adult bikes, and 3) we had a hand-me-down teen bike that still fit him. So, when he announced that he wanted to join the BS troop on the 25 mile ride and we couldn't nudge him to understand that this was a long way to go for your first distance ride, we decided that he probably needed something more grown up with larger wheels.
I looked around on line for an American made 18 or 21 speed bike. I still can't get over the fact that 10 speeds just isn't enough. Target carries some really nice Schwinns that were somewhat in our budget, but DH really wanted to fit him and buy from a small bike shop where they know what they are selling. So off he went with Firstborn and they came home with a Japanese made 21 speed bike that cost a wee bit more than I wanted to spend. DH believed the line about American made bikes are either crap or too expensive. The only American made model at this shop was over $1,000. As you read this back-story, you will know why a $1,000 bike is just not acceptable for an 11 year old boy.
Firstborn is very happy with the bike though, which is very important. He rode it a bit, wiped out once, and didn't really make us feel any better about the upcoming 25 mile ride in the freezing cold. However, I'm trying not to be the overly protective mum who doesn't let him do anything.
So, Wednesday night, he headed out for his pack-out. This is a time when the boys get together and pack the supplies (tents, gas cookers, rope, TP, etc) that they will need for the trip into the troop trailer. I had a meeting scheduled at my house and DH was out of town on business. So I arranged to have some friends drive him to and from the pack-out.
When he arrived home, I sent him straight to bed because it was late and he didn't say much. I later went outside to bring the garbage to the curb because DH always seems to plan his travel around garbage days. I notice the bike was gone. I was kicking myself for leaving the garage door opened. Our investment was gone and Firstborn would not be able to go on the bike trip. This last point I was ambivalent on. I knew he would be crushed but at least I wouldn't have to worry about him freezing to death. I tried to call DH but he was not answering. So I called the sheriff's office to report the robbery.
The sheriff's deputy came that night and took the report where I explained the missing bike. He asked if it could be anywhere else and I confirmed that the bike was in the garage when my son went to his BS event and it couldn't be anywhere else.
I lost a lot of sleep that night upset over the loss of this bike. DH never called back. I had to handle the whole thing alone, including breaking the news to Firstborn. He got up early Thursday to finish some homework he had not finished.
I knew he was still a little sleepy, but I wanted to get it over with quickly. I told him his bike was stolen. He looked confused and asked how. I explained that the bike was missing from the garage when I took the garbage out and someone must have grabbed it while he was at his meeting. Still confused, he said, "but I loaded it onto the trailer last night."
"What trailer," I replied.
"The Boyscout trailer. "
"You brought the bike to the pack-out?"
"No, the leader brought me home and when we got home we loaded the bike."
Guess who had to call the sheriff and tell them that it was all a false alarm.
And guess who had to send her boy off on a 25 mile bike ride in the freezing cold snow and rain.
But guess who was relieved that the bike wasn't stolen and survived the whole ordeal.
Tuesday, November 11, 2008
Mea culpa
That last post about Lastborn ended up with the wrong picture. That picture of Lastborn was from last spring. It gets better. Really. Look.
I rest my case.
Monday, November 10, 2008
Lastborn: a retrospective
Every year at picture time, DH and I bite our fingernails in expectation of Lastborn's pictures. (You can cue the scary music here.) Last year, they were so bad, we had to send them back and ask for a retake. Some years, they are just hilarious.
The only constant, is that you never know what you will get. Here is a retrospective. A bit blurry, but I hope you get the idea. We will go counter clockwise starting with the necktie picture. 
This picture was taken when he was 4.5 years old. We felt that the conspiratorial grin pretty much summed up his personality and felt we would probably never see another picture that so captured his personality. Then came the suave and debonair Lastborn with the big gap in his teeth. Cute. Then the All-American kid still sporting the gap, and finally, they caught a photo of him as he was telling a joke. So we really thought our days of cute photos were over. Then this year's photos came in.
Yep. If that isn't the face of a trouble maker. I wish I could have caught it more clearly. Those of you who get photos at Christmas can have clearer versions. Even his teacher had to laugh at this expression.
Thursday, October 23, 2008
Living in a swing state
This year has been an eye opener for us MA natives. Ohio is a big swing state. It is very unpredictable as to which way they will go and as a result, the concentration of Republican nastiness can be seen here. Everything from constant smear ads to questioning the validity of votes (otherwise known as voter suppression).
Likewise, we have had numerous visits from all the candidates. As a matter of fact, Miss Lipstick is speaking right now and it is being televised live!
Obama has been calling as well as visiting. He called a few weeks ago and DH answered. I'm proud to say he was mannerly, but he did explain that he is voting for the McPain ticket. I believe though that because DH is registered as an independent, he is on some kind of undecided list.
Because Yesterday, the phone rang and I noticed the Ohio for Change title in the caller ID. I knew this was Obama, so I answered thinking he was going to personally ask me to help out with his campaign. Instead a very well spoken gentleman asked for DH. I told him that DH was at work and he continued and asked if DH had made up his mind yet and if there was any chance he would be voting for Obama.
After I stopped laughing, I explained to him that yes, DH had decided very firmly, long ago, and though I had spent the past 9 months trying to make him see reason, he was still going to vote for McCain. So in the end, we will be cancelling each other out again this year.
"Well, you just make sure you get to the polls on election day," he replied.
I assured him I would but was bothered by the subtext I felt in his statement. Somehow, I heard, "or maybe make sure he doesn't, like slip something into his coffee that morning." Ya. That was probably just my conscience.
Likewise, we have had numerous visits from all the candidates. As a matter of fact, Miss Lipstick is speaking right now and it is being televised live!
Obama has been calling as well as visiting. He called a few weeks ago and DH answered. I'm proud to say he was mannerly, but he did explain that he is voting for the McPain ticket. I believe though that because DH is registered as an independent, he is on some kind of undecided list.
Because Yesterday, the phone rang and I noticed the Ohio for Change title in the caller ID. I knew this was Obama, so I answered thinking he was going to personally ask me to help out with his campaign. Instead a very well spoken gentleman asked for DH. I told him that DH was at work and he continued and asked if DH had made up his mind yet and if there was any chance he would be voting for Obama.
After I stopped laughing, I explained to him that yes, DH had decided very firmly, long ago, and though I had spent the past 9 months trying to make him see reason, he was still going to vote for McCain. So in the end, we will be cancelling each other out again this year.
"Well, you just make sure you get to the polls on election day," he replied.
I assured him I would but was bothered by the subtext I felt in his statement. Somehow, I heard, "or maybe make sure he doesn't, like slip something into his coffee that morning." Ya. That was probably just my conscience.
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