Proud Mama Moments

Here we are creeping up on [actually more like bounding toward] the end of the school year, and before we leave it all behind I want to make mention of a few notable items. April and May have been particularly busy and eventful.

Caleb: Starting in December, Caleb participated in the winter drumline. This was new to me, so if you're also wondering what that is, let me briefly explain. It's basically like a marching band field show minus all the wind instruments -- percussion only here -- and is performed indoors. They practiced many hours during the week and on Saturdays, which practice ultimately payed off. They took 2nd place in the state competition for their show titled "Dante's Inferno." If you want a sampling of what they looked like, here's part of it. This is early in the season, so they still had some work to do. Caleb is the lanky hooded figure in the front row on the left side.

Marissa: The last few months for Marissa were filled with basketball and track. She has been practicing with the high school basketball teams and participating in some tournaments with them. Her time to shine, however, was at the regional track meet. She competed in the shot put and 4 x 100 relay. Her relay team came in 4th place. But best of all, she won the shot put for the 8th grade girls with a distance of 32' 11"! And ... even with her busy schedule she has stayed on the honor roll and looks like she'll get a 4.0 this term.

Aiden: It's a good thing we like to watch basketball, cause that's what we do. Aiden finished up the regular season well, winning the championship game for 5th graders, and has since been focused on his traveling team. They had some polishing to do since they hadn't really been practicing together, but after a rough start they picked it up and started playing more like a team. In their most recent tournament, they finished in 1st place for their bracket. For school, he had to give an ancestor report in Spanish [that means using mostly past tense!] and got an A+.

Morgan: It may not seem like a big deal to some, but Morgan overcame some anxiety and trepidation to perform two songs in her piano recital. I tried to convince her to perform an original composition she titled "Follow Your Destiny," but she decided it was too personal to share with an audience. She did a wonderful job and was very poised in spite of her butterflies. She also mastered 214 out of 217 spelling words for the 2nd grade and has lovely cursive penmanship which she practices in very sweet letters to all the members of our family.

So there you have it. Sometimes a mom just has to brag. Better than all this, though, is that they are just genuinely good kids. They help me and are kind to each other. We laugh a lot together. I'm not sure how I got to be so lucky!

I see?

I took a late nap the other day and was accidentally awakened by Morgan. When she apologized I assured her it was just fine and that I needed to get up anyway.

"Why?" she asked.

"I can't sleep all evening long," I replied.

"Oh. And you need to take out your taxes... Wait, I mean islands." The frustration began to mount. "I don't remember what they're called!"

All I can say is that at our house from here on out contacts will be known by a couple new and much more inspiring names.

Happy tears

I told Morgan she was going to have a new cousin, to which she said, "That's so sad!"

Huh? I didn't get this response, so I asked her to explain.

"Because," she said. "Babies are so cute that it makes you want to cry."

Aha! Even though most of the time I can't see it, here's evidence she must be my daughter.

How'd they do that?

I was exercising the other day when Morgan popped in and exclaimed, "TWINS!" Her friend from across the street then peeked around the corner, and this is what I saw:

I would like to know how it is possible to duplicate such a unique and spectacularly mismatched means of self-expression. It's a mystery to me, but they succeeded triumphantly. This outfit represents Morgan's daily clothing choices fairly well. We have mean fights on Sunday mornings in which I insist you can NOT wear purple and pink striped leggings with a black and yellow flowered dress to church. Well, okay. I suppose you can. But only if you let me do something pretty with your hair. And since that's not going to happen ... Point mom!

I had to get a close up of their twinner grins. Morgan lost her top tooth a little prematurely thanks to getting elbowed in the mouth while playing on a neighbor's slip-n-slide. Oh, the hazards of summer!

 

Write on

I admit, I harbor a selfish wish that one of my children will actually like writing and reading. I know I'm supposed to embrace the individuality and unique talents of each child -- and I really do -- but once in a while I wonder why my kids are so not like me. [That is until I have a completely eerie jinks with my 5-year-old.] Now believe me, in most ways it's a good thing they're not like me. But it would be kind of nice if, for example, I didn't have to assign reading as a summer chore just so I can have an excuse to gobble up the pile of books I've picked up from the library.

Maybe it's still too soon to tell. There's a chance Aiden might have a knack for words. He brought home a story he wrote at school that was gobs and gobs of pages long and which I have yet to read through since it was all out of order and completely confusing. Here's a sample from the first page:

If I were a butterfly, I would go to South America, and grow some facial hair, and then I will travel to New York and make the biggest smile, and then put it on Lady liberty and take a picture...

That's an intriguing and entirely random beginning, and I see some creative promise [or something?]. I'll let you know how it ends -- if I ever figure out which page is the end.

I've been getting a kick out of Morgan's budding efforts to express herself with the written word. It's trial and a whole lot of error at this point, but it is highly entertaining.
This morning while I was fixing breakfast, Morgan slapped the following sticky note on my back:

 Care to take a stab at the translation?

Give up?

"I don't like oatmeal." I guess this was her protestation of her cereal options. It also reminded me of another early morning note she wrote a little while ago. This one was actually a conversation which went something like this:

Me: What do you want for breakfast?

Morgan:

nothing

Me: How come?

Morgan:

I am tired

Morgan:

am super tired

Morgan:

and I have to go pee

At this point she left to address the issue. When she returned, I asked if she was ready to eat now, to which she responded:

am still tired.

Fair enough.

All this reminded me of one last thing. For Aiden's 3rd grade spelling, each week he had to take a pretest at home. Then whoever gave him the test was supposed to sign it. Well, one week -- I think this was when I was in Oregon for Spencer's wedding -- everyone was scattered in different directions. Jeremy came home and offered to help Aiden do his pretest. This proved unnecessary, however, as Morgan had already given him the test.

In Spanish.

And signed it.

Complete with a curlicue G.

Yes, we let him turn this in. And yes, his handwriting is barely decipherable. And yes again, those are food and grease spots all over his paper. I think I may owe educators everywhere an apology.

Potty talk

I re-enter the blogging world with a little bathroom humor. I took the kids fishing during spring break last week. We decided to try out a community pond we'd never visited before. On the way, Morgan inevitably felt nature's call. We were getting close, so I made her hold it. We arrived at the pond, and I hurried her out to the restroom. She spied the nice, modern facility and said, "Oh, good. I'm glad it's not a portapoopy."

Delish

Morgan opened the freezer and spied a pair of really old, brown bananas I had stashed for future use.

"Ewww! Mom, there are rotten bananas!"

"I know," I replied.

"How do you know?"

"I put them there."

"Why?"

"So I could make muffins."

"Ohhhhh!" Clarity is a wonderful thing. "Rotten banana muffins."

'Cause, you know, that wouldn't be gross at all!

A few funnies

I've been trying to keep track of some of the funny things I've heard lately, but they're starting to fade. So I'd better record what I still remember before they're gone for good.

Morgan asked me if I went to Kindergarten. I replied, "Yes."
Then she asked if I went to third grade. "Yep."
"Did you go to college?" I did. And it's a good thing, too, as she then extolled the virtues of a higher education.
"In college you learn all kinds of things, like about football, and basketball, and even baseball!"

I finished reading Morgan a bedtime story, and she started to ask for a second.
"I wish I could have have a short, super short story. Like a hundred calorie short!"

Marissa was feeling a bit under the weather and asked for chicken noodle soup for dinner. She got up for a second serving and then ate it standing at the counter. Jeremy asked why she didn't come and sit down. Aiden reasoned, "Maybe it's because she's constipated."
We all looked at him, puzzled, until Jeremy realized, "I think you mean contaminated."

Deja vu

People keep asking me how I like having all my kids in school and what I do with my time. Well, considering days like today, being a mom of school-aged children has not equaled rest and relaxation. I got a call from the office which reminisced a call I received exactly one year ago. This time it went like this:

Office: Anneka?
Me: Yes.
Office: This is Kerri [who also happens to be my neighbor] from the school. Morgan's here in the office. She bonked her head, and she's bleeding.
Me: Okie dokie. Be there in a minute.

When I got to the school, it became clear that this wound was not nearly as dramatic as Marissa's, but it was still bloody and in a difficult place to treat -- right in the back of her head. Add this to her awesome haircut, and she's a sight to behold. I don't think we'll do stitches. Maybe some super glue will save the day.

As for what I do now that all my kids are in school? Let's just say that being a mom is a 24-hour job, no matter what phase you're in.

P.S. When I brought Morgan home from school, I let her watch a movie. She chose Beauty and the Beast, so of course I had to sing along. "Mom," she said. "Your singing is not helping my head." Oh, blast!

It was one day bound to happen

Before - 1st day of school

I was in the bathroom one morning last week when Morgan knocked on the door. I opened it to her smiling face, hair bedecked with an assortment of clips.

"Oooh!" I appropriately cooed. "How pretty! You did such a good .... wha-a-a?"

I spied something amiss. I looked closer. Oh, the horror! The hairdo was NOT pretty. The clips were disguising bangs clipped ever-so-efficiently to the scalp. I responded with the stupidest question a parent can ask, repeating it several times as if the answer would miraculously change.

"Morgan, what did you do?!?"

She knew immediately that she could no longer show off her work with pride and ran crying to her room. I persuaded her to come out eventually, myself a mixture of laughing, crying, and scolding. I discovered the extent of the damage as chunks of hair fell into my fingers, but somehow collected myself enough to take a couple of pictures.

As you can see by her refusal to look at the camera, her shame was complete. I dragged her from her hiding place in her bed to take her to the salon to see how we could remedy the 'do. She kept her blankie securely covering her head until the nice lady at the salon coaxed it off and previewed the damage. Her first suggestion was a pixie cut, but I couldn't bear it. So we opted for pulling some hair from farther back to create the illusion of bangs and then evening up the back in a little a-line. Considering what she was given to repair, I think the end result was all right. We can work with it -- at least for the next three to four months while her bangs grow back.

A Little Healthy Competition

We had a lovely Easter today, celebrated in part with our traditional jellybean hunt. When I was growing up, my parents -- er, the Easter bunny -- would hide jellybeans all over the house for us to find. I'm not sure how the tradition started, but I suspect it was just too wet and rainy outside to have a typical egg hunt. Anyway, we decided to do the same for our kids, and I get a kick out of the whole thing. This morning the hunt was tapering off, so I started scouting out some of the stealthier spots to see what might have been missed. When I'd spot one, I'd summon the hunters, who would swarm around until it was sniffed out. At one point, Morgan found the jellybean, grabbed it up, and cried, "Heh, heh, heh, SUCKERS!"

Um, so kids... how about a talk about the reason we celebrate Easter?

I'll Have Some Milk With That

The other day Morgan said, "I wish cookies had seeds."

"Really?" I asked. "Why?"

"Then I would take them [the seeds] out and eat them [the cookies], and then I would put them [the seeds] in the dirt and we'd have a cookie tree!"

Yes, please.

And speaking of wishes, here's a quote from the most recent book I read, Summer of the Monkeys by Wilson Rawls:

"... I do believe that any wish you make can come true if you help the wish. I don't think that the Lord meant for our lives to be so simple and easy that every time we wanted something, all we had to do was wish for it and we'd get it. I don't believe that at all. If that were true, there would be a lot of lazy people in this old world. No one would be working. Everyone would be wishing for what they needed or wanted."

"Papa," I asked, "how can you help a wish?"

"Oh, there are a lot of ways," Papa said. "Hard work, faith, patience, and determination. I think prayer and really believing in your wish can help more than anything else."

Commentary

On my housekeeping skills:

While Morgan was at preschool on Friday I vacuumed the house. She came home, took one look, and said, "Whoa! What happened to the carpet?!?"

Is a clean floor really that much of a novelty? My head is hung in shame.

Since I need some validation every so often, here are some additional jobs I did Friday.

changed and washed the sheets on the downstairs beds
cleaned the bathrooms
washed the towels
swept and mopped the floors
washed the sliding glass door
scrubbed several surfaces in the kitchen, including the fridge, dishwasher, oven, sink, pantry door, walls, baseboards, and back of the stove
re-mopped portions of the kitchen and entry after the kids came home from school with muddy shoes
organized the food storage
fixed dinner

If you were curious, I did not get a shower.

Oldies and Birdies

Aiden was playing Pacman on the Playstation today and said incredulously,

"Mom, it's AMAZING! These games were made in the 1990s. . . and they're still fun!"

Remarkable!

Other randomness. . . Morgan has been nesting lately. She found my stash of Easter eggs and has been building little nests of blankets and pillows all over the house. I found her watching t.v. the other day perched atop one of her nests, and she gave me a little peek at the colorful assortment of eggs she was incubating. Then a little while later she came soaring through the kitchen, flapping her arms, and said, "I'm teaching my little ones how to fly." My little ones. Ha, ha!

Scene III Act II

Setting: Dinner table. Family discussing events of the day, which includes something naughty done by Morgan. Morgan appears increasingly upset by conversation.

Morgan: This is the part where I cry!

Sobbing ensues. Exit Morgan. Door slams. Dog barks.

End scene.

In other news, we succeeded in making the most fantastically perfect ebelskivers tonight. I think bragging is appropriate for the occasion. It's only taken us 15 1/2 years to figure them out. I think my favorite part of the meal, though, was Morgan calling them "apple skeeters." It just hit my funny bone.

Going Green

We've had a challenge lately with energy conservation -- or in other words, turning lights out. I got tired of reminding Aiden in particular to turn off his lights, so I started threatening that we'd remove his light bulbs if he kept leaving the lights on. I guess he's used to empty threats, cause it didn't seem to make a difference.

So we followed through the other day. Morgan watched Jeremy taking the light bulbs out and was just dying to tell Aiden all about it. Jeremy told her to be quiet and let Aiden find out for himself. This was more than Morgan could handle. She showed us just how smart she is by going to Aiden and saying, "Can you help me turn on your light?"

Aiden earned his light bulb privileges back, and it has been like magic. He's come to me several times just to let me know his lights are off. Brilliant! And if it doesn't last, I suppose we can always try this . . .

If Walls Could Talk

I was mid-shower today when Morgan began pounding frantically on the door and yelling, "Mom! Mom! Mom!" This sounded different than the standard daily interruptions, so I asked what was the matter. "The handle is broken and the water is pouring out!! I can't turn it off!!!"

Okay, now what do you envision here? Then add to that vision the fact that just earlier this year we had a toilet overflow which resulted in a bathroom floor redo and downstairs closet ceiling restoration. Water flooding, seeking the lowest point, saturating surfaces only to manifest itself in horrible, fuzzy, slimy, foul ways when you least expect it. What would you do?

Disregarding my mid-shower status, I turned off the water, haphazardly flung my towel around me, tore open the door, issued an abrupt command: "Move!" and ran, the ends of my towel flailing unheeded behind me. I could hear the water running in the sink, adding desperation to my flight. Around the corner, and

nothing. Yes, the water was running full blast, but it was happily draining with not a sign of disaster in sight. I sagged in relief, issued another command: "No more water for you!" and followed my trail of soggy footprints back to the abandoned shower.

So can you guess how many lucky stars I thanked today? In honor of our holiday around the corner, here's one at least. I am grateful for solid walls and closed doors.

. . . and More on the Topic

Here's today's Morganism that made me literally guffaw.

Jeremy: Morgan, you're so smart.

Morgan: Just don't call me a fart cookie.

Oh, man!

So Fecial

Morgan has a few lingering speech difficulties. One of them involves the "sp" sound. I personally love it, especially when she says words like "sparkly." Who can resist something farkly? Or spider/fider. That's another favorite. Anyway, Marissa was trying to help her say "sp" today. It went something like this.

Ma: Say "spoon"

Mo: Foon

Ma: Say "s"

Mo: Ssss

Ma: Say "p"

Mo: P

Ma: Say "sss - p"

Mo: Sss - p

Ma: Say "spoon"

Mo: Pah - foon

Oh, it will come. But until then, I will savor every farkly and fecial thing.

Proof of Affection

Jeremy likes to tease that I must not love my children very much since I didn't post their back-to-school pictures on my Facebook wall. I beg to differ. It's just a symptom of my conflicted relationship with social media. But since I do love my children and like to show them off a little, here they are on their first days of school.

Caleb, 7th grader












Marissa, 5th grader












Aiden, 2nd grader












Morgan, preschooler












Have you noticed how the first day of school marks the passage of time more than most things? While I held myself together better this year than last after sending these sweet pieces of my soul away, I look at these pictures and feel gentle twinges in my heart. I guess even at my age I'm bound to have a few growing pains.