End'O'March

I have my usual spring cold and just realized I haven't taken one picture since the men returned from The North Country. So, I'm back to my old standby of mindless chatter interspersed with a look-how-far-we've-come collage.

Today while I writhed around on the couch blowing my nose and re-reading Anna Karenina (instead of teaching), The Guys went to check out the Lutheran preschool across the way. There was an open house from 9-11 a.m., so they biked there and had an enjoyable two hour tour, classroom visit, and playground investigation. Pros: It's open 8:30 - 3:30; they have certified, experienced teachers; it's close to home. Cons: they're not open in the summer; their 3-year-old curriculum involves letters, numbers, colors and shapes (he'll be bored), and they don't let the 2-3 year olds sit in the front of the church during meetings and/or other kinds of gatherings. Apparently as they toured the sanctuary in all its stained-glass glory, the principal was explaining about how all of the kids sit down in the front for important collectives there and then she stated that they didn't allow the 2-3 year old classes to sit down there but rather in the back of the church "just in case a class member needed to leave unexpectedly." So there's dead silence for a few seconds and then, with the first question of the day, in front of eight parents and their kids, The Goose says, "OK. Well, where's the back of the church?"

Not only was my kid the question-asker, but also my husband was That Parent. You know, the one who actually asks (out loud), "What if a student in the 3-year-old class already knows all of their letters, numbers, shapes, and colors? Is there any sort of advanced curriculum?"

The principal's answer: "He can just work on his social skills."

Hmmmm ... for seven hours a day? At those prices they better have a more engaging option than that, but thankfully Husband didn't point that out.

When they returned home, JEB barged in the door and said, "Hi Mom, how are you feeling? We went to check out a new school but I wanna stay where I am for now. Dah-dah's mad at you. Let's play trucks and eat peanut butter!"

(2006)

I'm not exaggerating at all. He is talking like that all the time ... asking polite questions and making all sorts of suggestions nonstop. And now informing one parent about times when the other parent is slightly peeved because of a bike incident: I seem to have a problem with ruining bike derailers because of my inability to appropriately change gears withOUT putting pressure on the pedals while coming up hills with a 30-pound toddler on the back. I have now ruined both my bike and Brian's and so he came in behind JEB in a much less cheery mood. Tomorrow we're dropping them off @ REI for a tune-up. ANOTHER tune-up.

(2005)

In other news ...

Monday night I took (without asking) John's "jambox" from it's rightful place on the floor in the playroom and used it for a listening lesson in Grammar III class. B said that not ten minutes after I left The Goose went in there to play and said, "Where's the jambox?" Amidst all that clutter, he knew it was missing. So then the next night (I had put it back immediately upon arriving home), we were in the kitchen cooking and JEB left the room suddenly. A few minutes later we hear, "IT'S NOT RIGHT BUT IT'S OKAY" by Whitney Houston blaring on the jambox. Not sure how he picked that particular CD, but it was a good excuse to have a family dance party. This was all before I got sick of course.

(2004)

Anywho, that's about all the news I've got. I think it's time for me to return to kleenex, pillows, and Tolstoy, but here's one last picture of him in 2003 that I couldn't resist:

Back from Milwaukee

Well, the guys have returned and just in time. I think Brian has used up an entire case of Foaming Wasp & Hornet Spray in the last couple days.

For more pictures of the trip, click here.

See you on Thursday!

MAMATIME

I miss my buddy. He's up north with the paternals. And I'm here in the house killing wasps (two since 4 p.m.). And tomorrow a couple guys are coming over to pump our septic tank. It's just grand, this life. And when I say "kill," I mean like "it was worth it to spray down half the couch with that poison spray and also break a shoe beating the half-dead poisoned, stinging red monster to a pulp."

My name is Kim and I'm a spheksophobic.

This is probably it for this week since (a) he's not here and (b) when he's not here I like to do really DIFFERENT things ... things you can't do with a 2.5 year old hanging around (like blog on WEDNESDAY instead of THURSDAY) -- I'm telling you it really is just WILD around here.

There were a few good quotes from earlier in the week:

• "Dad tee-teed! Yay Dad! You did it! All by yourself!"
• "I did not scream. I just yelled."
• "Mom! I pooped another big log."
  

We're so proud.

Until next week ...

Oh the daffodils! It's Spring!

He picked 'em and vased 'em and placed 'em on this table, which he then moved around the yard to various locations, checking to see which promoted the best flow of chi as based on feng shui principles.

You know, backyard chi. Duh.

Anyway ... tonight it's just pictures, so click here.

A New Obsession

Well, we have officially abandoned the obsession with 'P' and have moved on to 'A.' At intervals throughout the day he stops me and points and says, "Mom, there's an A" as if it's a blood diamond.

And then there are shovels and dirt and the garden project. I just put a folding chair out there and watched them. This is what I heard:

B: John, don't get behind the pickax.

J: OK Dah-dah. Look! A big BOULDER!

K: Really? Bring it over here and let me see.

J: No no Mom. No put the amela on the boulder. (translation: Don't take a picture with the CAMERA.)

K: OK, I won't. But I still would like to see the boulder.

J: Oh yeah. Hey Mom. You need some gravel?

I got two handfuls in my lap.

We're (they're?) building a garden. Here's proof:

What you can't see is my blue folding chair with a water bottle and a stack of Classification Essays beside it.

And also the state has decided to paint our house. The outside only, luckily. The last effort to paint the inside involved a prison crew (before we moved in) and clearly there was no warden around because they dripped paint all over the wood floor. But the strangest part is that even though it didn't matter what my answer was, they asked for my input. And I said that I liked the color: Tulip Poplar (appropriately, that's the state tree and there's one in our front yard). But I didn't know that they meant that that was the color (khaki-ish) for the ENTIRE house ... the bricks, the gutters, the eaves, the columns, the doors, the window panes, and the shutters. So that's a little bothersome, but I am handling it rather well, I think. Just to be sure though, I have an appointment with my therapist tomorrow.

And the painters themselves are the most interesting part. I know all about their personal lives since I have been home all week on Spring Break. They all smoke. One of them has a seven-year old and is addicted to Playstation. The older one doesn't think they should talk about their alcohol consumption while at work. The one who only comes sporadically has tried twice now to give me advice about our French doors (which have been duct-taped shut for 2.5 years). I tried to tell him that we don't really worry about structural issues since we don't own the house. He asked if we rented. I explained to him that it's part of the employment package as a park ranger ... either you live on the park or you get a housing stipend.

Then I said, "It's like a little perk, you know, a job benefit."

To which he replied, "Not much of one if you ask me."

Me: "What do you mean?"

Him: "Well, I been to Davie Crockett State Park up in Lawrenceburg and their lake is at least four times as big as this one here at this park and you can even fish there. You know they love Davie Crockett up there in Lawerenceville. Even though they had to kick him out on account of he didn't pay his land taxes. That's why he moved out west and got involved in politics. Hmph. Davie Crockett."

At this point I just turned around, walked upstairs, and attempted to dye my hair back to it's natural color.

It didn't really work.

And then when I went back downstairs, Playstation asked me if I worked. As if going to Mommies in Motion and then eating lunch outside on the patio isn't work! I told him yes that I was a teacher and I was on spring break. He asked what grade and I told him college. So he said, "Oh, you're a professor then well lah-dee-dah." And now he uses the word "well" instead of "good" everytime we have a conversation ... even when an adverb isn't appropriate. I started to tell him that I studied about that in sociolinguistics class ... about how people overuse certain forms so that they can sound "RIGHT" when really it just shows that they have no understanding of the correct form. But somehow, it just didn't seem appropriate at the time. He also informed me that there is a wasp nest the size of the Taj Mahal behind the upstairs bathroom shutters (which are now khaki, just like the bricks around it and all the window panes -- not that it matters). It just keeps getting better.

So that's all the news in these parts. I have had the most relaxing week of slowly making progress with school work and the house (check my Flickr account for pictures of our new mantle decor and TV stand), and I have even managed to call around to more preschools. It's looking good for the Lutheran place across the way. We'll see how he does on their entrance/placement exam. If it's not a good test then we have a Presbyterian back-up plan.

Y'all just pray that they ask him about the letters 'A' or 'P' (as he says, "Like 'pop' and Go Dog Go! by 'P.D. Eastman').

Fall Creek Falls

Clearly, I'm on Spring Break, with all these non-Thursday postings. I'm doing this in an effort to avoid the one million tasks that I have assigned to Spring Break Week.

On Sunday we visited Fall Creek Falls, where the tallest waterfall east of the rockies is housed. Gawjuss.

The Beckers

The Beckers
Originally uploaded by lparham10.

From Lemon's camera. Yes, I'm crosseyed.

moot, Moot, MOOT! I meant MOOT, not MUTE!

This disclaimer is related to Frenchy's visit because as an avid reader of the blog and fellow English major, she of course noticed my glaring misuse of the word "mute." And as soon as she said, "You know how you wrote that something was a ..." -- before she even said the word, it immediately occurred to me and I yelled like a crazed woman: "MOOT MOOT MOOT like MOOT court, not MUTE!" This is just unthinkable and completely embarrassing.

Do forgive, dear reader.

Prayers, Count Nouns, Spring Break, Preschool Applications, Folding Lessons, & Superfood (i.e., no unity or coherence)

John, do you wanna say the blessing tonight?

"God the father. Apple cider. School pictures. Fire. AMEN! Hooray! Muscles!"

And thus the food was blessed. Normally he thanks God only for apple cider and Seiya and Mana (his, um, I think two-time Japanese babysitters, who asked--at their last visit--if they had to stay before we went out bowling one night). Yes, you have to actually stay when you are babysitting. Anyway, tonight we were astonished to discover several other personality traits from his prayers: narcissism, pyromania, and a predisposition for steroid use.

And maybe I’m pushing him too hard, but I really think that he is showing lots of promise as a linguist. He is able not only to understand but also talk about the difference between singular and plural (and possibly even count and noncount nouns). For example, the other day we were reading The Water Hole by Graeme Base and when we got to the part about the moose around the water hole, I said, “Hey, what’s the plural of ‘moose’?”

His reply: “Orange.”

In other news, next week is my spring break (but not the Goose’s) … can you say
V-A-C-A-T-I-O-N ? ! ? !

We’ve got a fun-filled week planned: Frenchy over the weekend, a visit to a waterfall on Monday, a dentist appointment (yes, even after two root canals you still have to go back twice a year and give them more of your hard-earned money), picking up school pictures, grading papers, and researching preschools because we have already missed about 62 application deadlines. He won’t ever get into Harvard at this rate.

So today I looked into a prestigious parochial school where they have these cute plaid uniforms (a plus!) and they actually had an early admittance timeline, a placement-test date, and various other mark-your-calendar events such as when the acceptance letters went out: acceptance letters for children of siblings (late January), acceptance letters for non-sibling children (late February), and acceptance letters for commoners (late March). The fee for Monday, Wednesday, and Friday from 9 a.m. to 2 p.m. = $7,988 for the academic year.

Right.

We, apparently, are not even commoners, so it's a mute point. And anyway, there’s nothing wrong with his current setup, unless Mama gets a full-time gig for the fall, and then we may need some longer hours. Plus, he’ll be three in September, and his current school doesn’t have a music or foreign language program and that bothers me. However, it appears that having a monolingual, tone-deaf child can save you about $5,828 per year, and who can say that's not totally worth it?

In other news …

Today we spent the afternoon with Rachel, a four-year-old folding & chopping expert.

I told them to stand side-by-side and say cheese ...

Rachel was able to provide some much-needed instruction in folding various items -- including shirts ...

and blue blankies ...

She can also chop broccoli like nobody’s business. With her help, I was able to prepare an entire delicious, low-fat meal of vegetable-tofu stir-fry with peanuts while The Goose napped. When he awakened, they played kitty cats for some time while I did various household tasks (note to self: siblings can’t be all that bad even though there are none in his future. NONE. I don't have even one iota of a baby bug (unlike these people: braver-than-me #1 and braver-than-me #2)). And NEWFLASH! There’s nothing wrong with Only Children. We are all perfectly well-adjusted individuals who adore sharing and tend to be successful (and usually cute).

And now ...

I'll leave you with a lesson in how to drink Odwalla Superfood:

First, hold up the bottle and show everyone how proud you are to be drinking a combination of apple juice, peach, mango, wheat & barley grass, spirulina, soy lecithin, and Jerusalem artichokes ...

Next, take a big ol' swig ...

Finally, smile big and say, "Got Superfood?"