4,000 Words

If you don't eat 'em up, I will.

Happy 6th Birthday John-John!

Annual birthday letter forthcoming.

Week 2 of Mopping & Blogging

  Oh me, this week.  How is it that sometimes weeks with a holiday are actually MORE hectic?

We went hiking at Burgess Falls over the long weekend, but I forgot the camera, so you'll just have to imagine how cool the mist was and how close I sat to a snake while nursing the baby on a rock.  Don't have a heart attack, Daddy.  It wasn't poisonous.

After we returned home, John, in a fit of melodramatic boredom, embarked on a huge sorting project involving his 3-year-old shell collection.  The categories were starlingly sophisticated -- vertical-only stripes, grid-line stripes, and smooth tops.  However, now that he has his new Matematicas! at-home workbook, I'm sure there will be less down time. 

I'be been meaning to write about the girl in his class who was Evil for awhile.  For the first few weeks of school, he came home everyday extremely concerned about The Evil Girl.  I kept trying to figure out why he thought someone was evil, so I kept asking, "Why do you think she's evil?"  His answer was always, "Everyone calls her Evil Louise."  So finally I asked, "What does Miss Lash call her?"  Of course his answer was, "Miss Lash calls her Evil Louise too!" 

Eva.  Eva Louise.

Who now goes by "Weezy."

In the world of Sam, sweetness abounds.  I've taken to calling him Samby.  John calls him The Bambo.  Brian uses "Beaner." 

But the poor guy has another ear infection.  I'm starting to worry about the winter.  We're still nursing though I think he would self-wean at anytime.  I'm really trying to encourage it through the cold season, but pumping is such an ordeal. 

My work has been crazy this week, yet I did take several opportunities to smile and make off-color jokes about the slew of unfortunate student names for this semester. 

1. Dorki (Cuban, wants extra work because she's already finished our entire textbook full of exercises)
2. Fartun (Somali, sits by Dorki)
3. Dung (Vietnamese, American name, "Tracy")
4. Ntshit (Ethiopian, pronounced "Nettashett," but can you imagine the first time I called roll?)

At the end of this horrid week, I had to find time to order some portraits of my Samby for our increasing collection of piled-up, unframed pictures. 

Maybe someday John can help me sort through them.

Click here for a slideshow of Our Samby, The Bambo, Beaner, Sambino.

New School Year's Resolutions

Back in the day, I used to do this every Thursday night. I'd mop the floor, and then sit down and document the week.   Somehow I have of late dropped both habits.  Both good habits. 

So tonight in the spirit of New SCHOOL Year's resolutions, I am renewing my committment to my floors and my blog.  I don't want my children to grow up and say to themselves: "What did our mother do in her spare time?  She certainly didn't tidy the house or make scrap books, so what was she doing all those nights we were in bed at 6:30 p.m.?"

Well, let's see.  Mostly, I've been staring comatose at the television watching horrific shows such as The Bachelorette.  That kind of thing makes me feel a lot better about my life.  It makes busy seem SO much better than crazy.  Last night I watched something on CMT about Taylor Swift's 13-hour autograph party.  She wore heels and never sat down.  It inspired me, so here I am.



The boys are thriving these days.  Brian is in a job that he loves, John has bounded into kindergarten fearless and sponge-like, and Sam has settled into his weekday life with Hannah and Elijah (the babysitter and her 10-month old son) with comfort and ease. 

There are so many things I blog about in my head throughout the day ... so many wonderful things in our lives ... waking up to find a kindergartner stomping around half-naked doing math in Spanish ... watching Sam crawl around playing with a croquet ball ... and of course the many stressors of late ... my envy of the nanny's time with my baby, my discovery of rush-hour traffic, my disillusionment with my job, my inability to find time for yoga and hiking and sanity, etc. etc. 


But mostly I have just wanted to write about my love for this little family.  I love how the boys play together -- something I never thought I'd see.  Everyone said they were too far apart ... said they'd never be able to enjoy each other or be close.  I believed them because what did I know? I'm an only child, and I was never the kind to plan exactly how many children I'd have and how far apart they'd be and how old I'd be when each of them was born.  I'm just not detail-oriented in that way. 

And so their enjoyment of each other has bowled me over.  They are so much fun.  They play together for extended periods of time, laughing, making copious amounts of noise and tumbling into various objects and each other.  John hops into the car after school and, if Sam is not with me, immediately wants to know "Where's the Sambino?  He should be with us.  Let's go get him!!!" 

So for those of you who have lately heard me complaining about my job, my commute, my dirty house, my guilt about working, and my lack of appropriate-fitting pants, here's a nod in the right direction.  Tonight I'm going to bed with a clean floor, a clear conscience, and some elastic-waist pajama bottoms.