Read Across the Living Room

It has just "clicked" in the last few weeks! Dr. Seuss would be proud!

Reading of "The Wig" from Rachel Broderhausen on Vimeo.

And I realize my last few posts have been about Audrey. Mr. 9 yr old doesn't generate so many blog-worthy, heart wrenching posts these days. It's mostly because his stories often don't feel like my stories to tell.

But if you look at this picture (I am almost barfing that I'm posting it), you might be able to tell what my right-footed boy spends most of his waking hours doing. (HINT: Involves a black and white ball, and at school, a muddy field).

If you can't see it, the entire right big toe side of the shoe is blowing out. Lots of kicking, I guess!


And if it's not soccer, it's this...

It's the angle

The Boy has always been a great photographer. He seems to capture angles we don't see from adult height, or maybe he pushes the button sooner because he's not waiting for the perfect pose.

Anyway, he captured some great ones of Papa and NuNu on our last visit.

Papa, relaxing after a long day in the workshop with the kids

NuNu

And her more playful side. Or maybe her "Are you talkin' to me?" face.

Maybe Santa should have brought him a camera for Christmas instead of the horrendous nerf gun.

I took this one, but it was too sweet not to put in here

And I needed the eyeball video camera again, because I didn't catch the best part of NuNu reading the Human Body book with him, and how she explained what your pulse is and how to take it..

My feeble catch before I was spotted.. I have tried, in vain (HA HA, pun only intended after I wrote it and laughed out loud at how funny I am), to explain to him how these videos are so important because NuNu won't be around forever, and he'll want to watch them and remember all the good times, with her and can you hear the Charlie Brown parent voice echoing in his ears? Wahhh-wah-waaah-wahh-waaah-wahhh. Sigh.

Oh, Happy New Year

We started the new year a few days early with a trip to Celebration Lane. Outside Bellevue Square Mall (or Lincoln Square or whatever they call it now), they do Snowflake Lane before Christmas and Celebration Lane before New Year's Day. Local high school drummers dress as toy soldiers and bubble "snow" falls nightly, with lots of music and, just because we're lucky, NOISEMAKERS!!

One of these things is not like the others,

One of these things just doesn't belong.

Can you tell which thing is not like the others, (or which one belongs to the 3 yr old?)

By the time I finish my song?

Ok, I'll spare you the song..

But in spite of the party horn casualty, we really had fun.

Tonsils and all.

I asked them to say Happy New Year, not Aaaaaaaah!

Merry Christmas from our village

to yours. Wouldn't life be simpler if we all had marshmallow Peeps snowmen outside and a graham cracker paddleboat to get around?

Need a new roof? Get out the Jujubes. New fence? Grab the marshmallows.

Not quite the Sheraton gingerbread display, but they're ours and they had fun creating them.

View from the top

Bitty Girl's gingerbread yard decor

They're both such sugar hounds I don't know how they manage to get anything actually glued down. Next year my goal is to start on cardboard so I can actually move them or put them together. Somehow the blue polka dot plates just don't scream "Merry Christmas!"

We're all shopped, mostly wrapped, and ready for Christmas. After a big day of standing in multiple lines with the World's Greatest Daddy, the kids have checked Santa pictures, visiting the gingerbread houses at the Sheraton and riding the holiday carousel off their lists.

Seven

Seven years ago today, I was lying in a hospital bed, water broken but still on bedrest, waiting and waiting, and having no real idea that in just a few short hours, I would meet the most amazing creature who would change my life forever.

I’m having a hard time accepting seven. I read back on my “Happy 6th birthday” post, and evidently I have an annual “hard time accepting the birthday” thing. Although reading the Happy 5th Birthday post showed me we've beaten the Dec 12 curse! But he’s so BIG this year, and doing so many big things. The last year has included: Finishing kindergarten and learning to read, finally losing two teeth this summer, riding a bike without training wheels, really mastering swimming, playing a second year of t-ball and soccer, starting 1st grade and taking taekwondo. He’s taking it all in stride, and while he still doesn’t roll smoothly into new things, it’s definitely getting better.

Starting first grade was so much easier than kindergarten, after the initial transition of a new teacher and not having all his friends in his class. He knew where to go and what the school routine was like, what recess and lunch were like, the office staff (and yes, he’s visited them a few times this year already!). And he can read—oh, can he read! It just clicked at the end of the school year and now he’s reading everything. Street signs (a la NuNu), the sports page, the directions on his homework which he then does independently, Audrey’s books, my email and Facebook (eek!). He reads silently to himself sometimes, and I just stare at him in amazement! He loves math too, and while he’s still far too busy to sit down and write much, the fine motor part of writing is much easier now.

Maybe it’s just me. Maybe it’s that he’s rocketing past me and away from me in so many ways, and that’s the part that’s hard. He tells me “no kisses” when I take him to school, and seriously rolled his eyes at me one day when he saw me peeking in his classroom window. I’m sure his thought bubble said, “OMG my mom is so weird. Look at her out there looking at me. Go away, mom!”

The other day I said something sappy like, “Do you know what I was doing seven years ago today?” and he actually let me start telling him the story of being on bedrest and my water breaking and going into the hospital. Then in the middle of the story, he interrupted me to ask if I knew the score of the Philadelphia game. Hmmmph.

Example #1 of ways he’s way past me: Sports. The boy is turning into a sports mini-encyclopedia, just like his daddy. He is constantly spouting off stats, wanting to know which team is ranked in which place in the top 25, who won the game, who’s the best player, who’s the worst team in each league, and he knows the players’ names and numbers. And while he’s still a fair-weather fan who likes to root for the team with a winning season, I feel a deep love of the Huskies coming on, just like his daddy.
Example #2: Taekwondo. We started a class at the YMCA, and he loves it. I was overwhelmed just watching, but he’s clicked with it and really learned the moves. Up until this point, I could follow along with his soccer and baseball, but now, he’s beyond me. It’s a different world, with “yes ma’am” and “no sir” to the instructors, although we could use a little more yes ma’am at home, that’s for sure. But it’s something about the white uniform and the serious concentration and the way he has just learned by watching (the “fake it ‘til you make it” instruction is given a lot in class) and not by ME SHOWING HIM. Pat has gone with him to class a lot, and helped him with some of the moves, but really, he’s just a student in a class learning from the instructor. And that’s such a big kid thing.

He is an amazing big brother. His little sister adores him, and with good reason. He plays along with her bossy little games, watches her preschool cartoons, and sometimes with a wink and a whisper from me, will let her think she’s winning. He is so proud to play the “big kid.” His class had a Thanksgiving feast, and he let her come sit in his lap while the class was watching a video—later he told me he was kind of embarrassed, but I saw how proud he was. Of course they wrestle and fight and tease, but they also snuggle and play and laugh. Lots of laughing around here—usually about poop or other bodily functions or something silly that involves throwing a ball inside way too hard.

Seven. He has so much ahead of him, and I’m so proud of the boy he’s becoming. I just can’t quite figure out how he got from there

and there

to here.

Happy Birthday, Big Seven.

Somehow Seaside Survived

Danger Girl, out for a spin on the Promenade at Seaside.
Many unsuspecting vacationers thought they were just out for a stroll on a cloudy August morning.

(cue foreboding music...)

Little did they know they barely escaped being mowed down by a pink Princess Huffy with rainbow streamers. At least the training wheels rattle so you can hear her coming!

Did you catch the absolute GLEE in her eyes as she sped up (doing her "magic trick") and whizzed past us? You might have missed it because of her extreme speed. Yes, we really had to run to catch up.

We are in trouble. Very soon. Capital T.

And on the Danger flip side... The Boy, perfecting his tricks. Guaranteed to make his mother's, grandmother's, and great-grandmother's heart skip a beat.

Like sands through the hourglass

Who are these big kids and what have they done with my babies?

Bitty Girl got a haircut and suddenly she's not so bitty.

(and who looks just a wee bit like her big brother?)

The Boy lost his first tooth

and then his second one a week later!

The Tooth Fairy is tired, and Mama isn't quite sure how we got here so fast.

Snap! go the apron strings

Tonight I’m snuggling w/The Boy before bed, and it’s hot, so I’m wearing a tank top. His arm must have brushed against my underarm, because suddenly, he says, “What was that?”

I inspected, and it’s not that bad – I think I just didn’t shave this morning. I explain that it’s where I need to shave under my arms and he looks completely astonished.
“You have hair under there?”
I am slightly baffled as to why this is shocking to him, do the “we are mammals” talk, and We talked about Daddy’s whiskers and how he’ll have them on his face someday.

I told him how if I didn’t shave, it would look like Daddy’s armpits.
I wish I had a picture of his face—completely repulsed and slightly heartbroken. It’s not like he has trouble finding fault w/me, but I think it goes against the Mommy smooth skin for cuddling thing.

His exact words, “That is totally disgusting.”

Then when I went back in there a little later, he said, “Mom, next time you come in my bed, could you wear a shirt? That was gross.”

I complain all the time about how he’s too attached to me, so maybe I should throw away my razor.

But I was a little sad to see him think I was totally disgusting.

Wait until holding his hand or kissing him goodbye falls in that same category.

Multi-Faceted Man and his secret sidekick

It's a new superhero...

He can be serious and scary... especially when he's graduated to doing tight figure-8s on the backyard court.

(notice the Steelers outfit, Auntie Em and Uncle Brian?)

post-Sounders soccer game

And then his lighter side..

posing for the photographers

entertaining his adoring public with jokes at the Willows

Not to be outdone...

Super Secret Diva Girl - no photos please...

Otherwise they all look like this.

Milestone #2: CHECK!

Here's what The Boy crossed off the list today.

Don't mind the fact that this shot down our street, complete with VW Bus and unweeded house, looks like we live in Trashville. The other direction really does look nicer.

Dad got quite a workout as well. And because The Boy gets his dogged determination from his father, he rode this morning, this afternoon, and this evening.

I won't be surprised if he's poppin wheelies and riding one-handed by Monday.

More like the beginning

I witnessed something amazing tonight. When you wait for something for a long time and it happens gradually, right under your nose, sometimes you don't expect to be hit smack in the face with the wonder of it.

After a busy day, with The Boy's last day of--gulp--kindergarten, an early morning run to Fred Meyer for emergency rubber chickens for Pat's Field Day, coffee/cocoa with Bitty Girl, end-of-school lunch at McDonald's (I know, don't judge me, it's what he chose), and the afternoon at Field Day, I did not have high hopes for the evening. Pat was gone at his staff party, and somehow I managed to get dinner on the table and The Boy showered.

The promise of stories in Mommy's bed found them both under the covers with their book choices. I wish I had a picture - it was beautiful.
The Boy picked up a book from my nightstand and... (wait for it)


started to read it out loud. It was Little Oink, a gift from Auntie Emmy, and he's heard it a few times before. And I knew he could read. He's been reading for months, in bits and pieces, various words on the page or little beginning reader books from his book bag at school.

But as I stood across the room watching him, so confidently reading the words, stopping only occasionally to spell one for me to help him, I could see it happening, the neurons and synapses firing with connections. He didn't give up like he often does, and this book has words like "savored" and "relished". His eyes lit up when he started to spell "because" and then realized he knew it!

HE CAN READ!

I have so many fantastic memories of reading and stories and being curled up with a book. And while this enthusiastic bundle of boy has so many of my characteristics, I often find myself "not getting him." So watching him read a book with delight filled me with joy and familiarity and such a grown-up sense of connection.

Way to go, my boy. You have so much ahead of you, and we are excited to be along for the ride.
And while it may be more "Captain Underpants" and Batman comic books than Little House on the Prairie or Boxcar Children, the light in your eyes is something I understand.

Except when you're laughing at the poop jokes. That part, only your father understands. Thank goodness you have each other.

I just made...

The last school lunch of the year.

And just like every other lunch, we have one turkey & cheese sandwich, crusts cut off, half a kiwi, thermos of milk (usually chocolate), a fruit leather, a strawberry yogurt tube, and rice crackers. What can I say, the kid likes to know what to expect. His dad takes the same lunch every day too.

And don't forget the note on the napkin, although I have been instructed NOT to write "I love you" anymore. Too mushy.

Every time I read those little "How to spice up your child's lunchbox" articles, I let out a snort that is part envy, part wonder. Do kids really eat pita chips and hummus, raw pepper slices, quesadillas, or SOUP for school lunch??

We'll just enjoy our summer of turkey sandwiches at home. At least I don't have to make them the night before.

Now that's old

While in the car today, we passed a cemetery. Out the window, The Boy saw an elderly man walking across the grass with flowers in his hand. We discussed how he was probably going to put flowers on someone's grave, maybe his wife's or friend's.

The Boy says, "Or maybe his mom. Or his grandma, or his great-grandma, or his great, great, great, great, great, great, great, great, great, great, great, great, great, great, great, great, great, great, great, great, great, great, great, great, great, great, great, great, great, great, great, great, great, great, great, great, great, great...

At this point I get sort of irritated and say, "That's enough greats, I get it."

And he says, "Just a minute, I'm almost back to Jesus."

I lost count, but he was probably fairly close. It was a lot of greats. And he's funny.

The final stretch

Today The Boy celebrates the end of kindergarten. Friday is the official last day of school, but today is the ceremony.

He decided to start the party a day early by calling a 2nd grader a jackass on the bus yesterday. Because another friend told him he wouldn't be his friend UNLESS he called the bigger kid a jackass. Lovely. He lost Pokemon card privileges for the week and got a nice dose of "If someone tells you to do something you know is wrong..." but I promise I didn't ask him if his friend jumped off a bridge, would he follow?

But back to my nostalgia. The end of kindergarten. Excuse me while I get a tissue.

He has had an amazing year. He had a fantastic teacher, who in spite of being about to give birth any day, has managed to make it through the year. She is kind and understanding and puts up with an energetic class that includes many livewire boys.

This year the Boy learned to read, to write, tons of math concepts like addition, subtraction, partners of 10, teen numbers, all about isopods (bugs like those roly poly bugs), sea life, riding the school bus, took two field trips, had recess with big kids, played on a soccer team, played an entire t-ball season without breaking his arm, and learned how to appropriately use "asshole" and "jackass" in a sentence.

He made new friends, STILL hasn't lost a tooth, learned all about Bakugan and Pokemon and how everyone has been to Disneyland except for him. Oh, he learned how to say something "sucks," too. As in "You suck because everyone else in my class has been to Disneyland but me."

In September, writing was an excruciating task that he would speed through as quickly as possible. Now, if he's motivated and interested in the subject, he'll write a 10 page book. And by motivated, I mean that NuNu offered to pay him 50 cents a story.

We're ready for summer, but not before we celebrate an amazing year of milestones.

Congratulations to our boy. We are so, so proud of you. But we could do without the curse words.
Pictures from the "graduation" ceremony...

They read out loud their pictures of "What I liked best about kindergarten." Almost every kid said P.E. the field trip to the beach that was 2 weeks ago, or making gingerbread houses. You gotta love kindergarteners. I'm sure his teacher is wondering why she bothered with all that useless math and reading, or even being nice to them.

Thanks to Grandma and Papa for coming!

reluctantly posing with his annoying mom

Showing Grandma his memory book

And from the trip to Baskin Robbins later - waffle cone double scoop!

Navy Monsters

“It’s a chapter book, Mom. That’s why there aren’t many pictures.”

At first glance, it just looks like one of his many drawings.
But it’s a giant leap for The Boy.

During choice time at school (read: ON HIS OWN with NO DIRECTION), he wrote this book today. It follows some games they were playing at recess.

Navy and Monsters - cover (in color)

Page 1: Navy fights monsters all around. Army comes to help me to fight monsters.

Page 2: Navy fights a very old man. Navy kills monsters

Page 3: Mountain cracking. Navy trying to stop it. Everybody is trying to hold it up.

Page 4: Navy is helping to save the people.

Page 5: (We even have dialogue!) “Hooray for Navy,” they said. Everybody is happy today.

If he works slowly and with help, he can really sound out most words.

But I was completely floored that I could actually read some of these words and understand what he meant. He could read it back to me too.

The letters aren’t the most exciting part, though. It’s the fact that he did this voluntarily--wrote a 5 page book with lots of words and no pictures.

Congratulations to my young author. Maybe he'll guest post soon.

Speaking of elephants

Name that book…

The Boy was trying to describe a book that one of his classmates lost from the school library:

You know that story Around The World, where the kid has the yellow hat? And he walks with the elephants and the balloon gets stuck in the tree and he falls in that purple stuff? And there’s swirly colored stuff on the cover and it comes up like a volcano, but just a little bit up, and the guy is on top of it with the yellow hat.

I couldn’t place it.

He even told me where to go look in the bookcase.
I knew it immediately. Do you know it?

Elephants


the balloon



and the purple stuff






Got it yet?






And finally, the swirly colored volcano with the yellow-hat guy standing on top.








Oh, the things I could do if I had that memory.

At least it wasn't an f-bomb

The whispers started on Monday morning.
There was talk of it on the bus.
It got lost in the bustle of dinner and my arrival home on Monday evening.

But today, after school, out it came.

"Mom, do you know what an ass-halt is?"

It's a good thing I was prepared from Monday.
Monday one of his classmates came in from recess and tattled to another kid's mom that her son said asshole on the playground. I was just waiting for it to (no pun intended - eew) trickle down.

Monday night there was some whispering about someone saying it on the bus, but we shushed it in front of Bitty Girl and it didn't come up again. She already says poopy butt and butt head - I couldn't tolerate more from a 2 1/2 yr old.

So, you are asking yourself, how did I react to this question? He only gave me about 2 seconds to respond before he told me it was a butt hole.

My response?
Dude, if you're going to say it, say it right.

I told him that it was ass-HOLE, and that ass was another word for your bum, so it was really talking about a butt hole. And if you called someone an asshole that it meant you thought they were really not nice or a jerk. And it wasn't a nice word and that he would get in trouble wherever he used it. Especially at school or around his sister. So I didn't want to hear it.

It was inevitable.
My dad got his mouth washed out with soap when he was a kid for saying, "I can see your asshole" when his sister bent down to pick something up.

And the much-retold story from my mom's childhood was my grandma saying, "Must you say asshole? Can't you just say ASS?"

Weekend in review

We had a short weekend getaway to Lake Chelan. I know - in the WINTER? Our big plans of some bunny hill skiing were changed at the last minute because we finally--like a month after everyone else figured it out--realized that Lake Chelan has had NO SNOW for 2 months.

But Mr. Boy-who-is-not-very-flexible was very good when we broke the news. We made big plans for bowling and maybe a movie and candy store and lots of swimming.

So here's how it went..

Saturday: SuperDaddy took each kid swimming. Separately. While I did a dinner run, because that's what happens when you arrive at 5 pm after a 3 pm lunch and realize that if you all go swimming, some small people are bound to be screaming hungry right.at.bedtime!

Much too late to bed Saturday night, after attempting to let both kids sleep in the hide-a-bed. Pack n play to the rescue!

Sunday: Fantastic hotel breakfast. This is a serious free breakfast, with an dedicated breakfast room with waffle station, eggs, cereal, muffins, juice, yogurt.

Then family swimming. Warm indoor pool, but cold run back up to the room on the outside breezeways of a hotel really meant for summer.

look who thinks he's some sort of swimsuit model

but is really sort of a swim monkey?

Bowling at Chelan Lanes

Action shot - PBA, here he comes!

Bowlers

No photos were taken of the minor meltdown that occurred in front of the substitute candy store. Seems that the candy store they visited in 2007 is no longer open, and although we found another store and purchased some candy, Mama opened the wrapper AT THE WRONG TIME. And that would be the 6 yr old's meltdown. Bitty Girl was too busy stuffing her face with chocolate to worry about having a fit.

Recovery and calming down was had by all, quiet hotel games were played, and we had dinner out.

Night swimming for the chlorine-logged boys, early bedtime for Ms. Pack n Play.

Monday: KIDS SLEPT UNTIL 8:00 am! More breakfast, SuperDaddy swims again with both kids. I did help get them showered and dressed.

Grand total for swimming:

Daddy - FIVE

The Boy - Four

Bitty Girl - Three

Mommy - One ( don't know how I even pulled that one off - married to a swimming angel)

Stopped in Leavenworth on the way home for a quick candy store and hat store trip.

Why we didn't ask one of the million tourists to take our picture, I don't know.

Mama and the drama-ettes

Stone Cold Bitty Girl...

who finally decided to smile when her brother left to take a picture.

But your reward for reading all the way through are the best two pictures of the trip...

A little time to get centered...

and a big brother who will hold your hand.