Thanks to some serious scheduling gymnastics, one amazing babysitter, and some family members kicking in some time, Tom and I are both attending a week-long letterpress workshop in town. From 9am–5pm, we will learn the ins and outs of this amazing Vandercook.
Have I mentioned that Tom is an amazing father? I know, I do it a lot, but it’s so very true.
To celebrate, this morning we gave him the book Geek Dad. Later, I found him thumbing through it, and a short time after he was off to the hardware store (with all three kids in tow, bless him, so I could prep for the photo workshop).
By the end of the day he had constructed a 60 foot slip-n-slide in my parents’ front lawn (they have the best incline for maximum speed). By afternoon the kids had discovered the best techniques for the fastest slide (which is with a running jump, totally naked).
By late afternoon, I gave him the option to go spend some time by himself, but instead, he decided to take the whole family to see Toy Story 3. Ellery had only been to one movie before, and was beside herself with excitement. Mid-way through the previews, I looked over to see her clutching her popcorn in one hand, her ticket stub in other, overjoyed. It was such a good movie, and particularly bittersweet to see with your own children. I recommend packing tissues.
We tucked into bed three exhausted kids who had spent the day with their father, building, slipping, sliding, and movie-watching. Very lucky kids, those three.
After being wiggly for weeks, Shep finally lost his first tooth. The grown-up tooth is already halfway in. This is way ahead of when Neko lost her first tooth, which goes to show you that second children buzz right in and blow the whole schedule to bits.
In what seems to be a tradition for our family, Shep has opted to keep his teeth. And ask for $5 instead of the going rate in this house, which is $1. I have a feeling the tooth fairy isn’t going to change her rates any time soon.
Of course, I forgot to take a photo of the tooth itself. Photo to follow…
As of late, we’ve been trying to let the kids to do more things on their own. They get dressed on their own, get their own drinks and forks, and help set the table. Neko has recently mastered scrambled eggs, which is good on all fronts, because I’m doing less work and everyone is eating more protein.
This is rather excruciating for someone with my personality, who really likes to see a job done right. Who stays up at all hours making sure things are just so. Who has an innate impulse to jump in and help out and sometimes commandeer a project.
This morning Shep wanted to help make muffins. Actually, that’s not true, he wanted to make the muffins all by himself. With no help. Pouring and mixing and putting batter into the pan. It wasn’t how I would do it, but he did a bang-up job for a five-year-old.
And there it is. The hardest thing I’ll do in parenting—letting them do it themselves, in their own way, and tucking their own accomplishments or failures under their belts. The hardest thing, but, clearly, one of the most important.
This girl and nature? There’s some visceral connection.
She found this toad a few days ago. She loves this toad. His name is Leaper. She held him, hugged him, and swatted flies to feed to him.
The thing about these nature friends is that they inevitably have to go back home. No, not our home, which is where Neko thinks they should be—the great outdoors.
This is always such a struggle. I think she knows they need to go home, but with all her heart, she really wants to build some sort of nature conservancy in her bedroom.
Tonight we walked the toad to the pond and turned him loose. And then Neko cried the whole way home.
When I think about her 20 years from now, I’m having a hard time picturing her at a desk job.
Okay, really it’s a jump rope wrapped around car seats, but Tom and I couldn’t stop laughing when we walked out to discover Neko had rigged up some “laser vision” for Shep.
I’ve heard rumblings about the annual Fun Hunt that happens each year in our town. Started in 1973, it’s been going on nearly as many years as I’ve been alive. My friend Beth L. kept trying to convince me to join in, but we have three children and we're tired and we can’t find a babysitter and blahblahblah.
Anyway, this year my friend Tiffany sent out an alert that the Fun Hunt didn’t have enough teams, and it might be in trouble. I'm a sucker for things in trouble, so Tom and I rounded up the first people in our path, and created a team. I had no idea what we were in for. My friends told me to think of the Amazing Race without death-defying stunts.
So off we went, and omigosh, it was so much fun. Solving clues that lead us from one location to another, I loved seeing mobs of grown-ups huffing and puffing to outrun their neighbors. Kudos to the planning committee for a fantastic evening. They’ve given me another reason to love this place we call home.
It’s field trip season!
We kicked off the year with a night of camping, which the kids have never done. As fate would have it, rain was in the forecast for days on end. I crossed my fingers and toes and anything else I could think of crossing, and did little anti-rain dances.
I’m happy to announce it mostly worked.
As I arrived at 4pm to start meeting people, the skies opened up and it poured for about five solid minutes. Then there was thunder for about an hour. And then? The sun came out.
Seven families came out to brave the elements, and we had a fantastic time. Kids ran and chased and played. Adults set up tents, made dinner, and caught up around the campfire. It must have been a really good time because I completely forgot to take out the camera.
I shot this one photo the next morning. As dawn broke, the rain started. Just a sprinkle as we brewed coffee, and by the time breakfast was served, it was raining buckets. We broke down the tents in the pouring rain. Some kids splashed in puddles while others huddled under umbrellas or in cars. All the adults were soaking wet, but in great spirits.
If we had that much fun with questionable weather, our next family camping trip can only be better!
I was busy cleaning up the kitchen when I noticed Neko kept zipping in and out, grabbing snacks and a few other things.
When I hadn’t heard voices for a few minutes, I looked out the window and saw all three of my little ones, having a picnic under the big tree, talking and laughing with one another.
Hello, summer.
Last day of school!
Lordy, it’s been a big week.
Teacher gifts were made. We like to give a token of appreciation to all those involved, even assistants and custodial, so I think we ended up making twenty gifts in all. Thank goodness I came up with this simple solution.
Wednesday night we prepared for the Annual Egg Drop, where students try to create a vehicle that insures the safety of a raw egg as it falls from the roof of the school. Neko and I spent the evening refining concepts and dropping them from the loft. Sure, it was one step away from prepping something for FedEx, but there was lots of talk about how to properly cushion something for an inevitable blow. Her ultimate product: an egg inside a plastic container filled with cotton balls, placed inside a cardboard box filled with balls of yarn.
Thursday night brought the graduation ceremony where Neko could barely hold it together. Public performance is one of her least favorite things, plus the week had been filled with angst about saying goodbye to Kaili, her big kid partner since kindergarten. When the ceremony was over, she didn’t even want to stay to see her friends. She got a hug from Kaili, grabbed a cookie and told me she wanted to go home. As we started our drive, I looked in my rear view mirror to see her, head against the window, sobbing.
I so love this part of our school, that the big kids are like family. Kaili has been a rock for Neko these past two years, the big sister she doesn’t have. I've made promises of babysitting and ice skating dates, but that doesn’t seem to help the fact that she won’t see her on the playground next fall.
Even though it was late, we spent some time in the hammock, holding chickens, talking about the night and watching the bats emerge for the night. “That was really hard for me,” she said quietly. “I know,” I replied. “And I am so proud of you.”
Today was the picnic and egg drop. The rain stayed at bay, the mood was light, and Neko’s egg made the fall intact. The day ended with no tears, but the inevitable buzz of adrenaline before falling into bed.
I’ve never run a marathon, but I think I might know what it’s like when you cross that finish line. Summer…here we come.