Sunday, August 30, 2009

Adorable Refresher II

Adorable Refresher: noun. A certain thing a child does or says that is so cute, you remember right then and there how much you love them.

Read part I here.

It was a year ago almost to the day when Philosopher Child (then having the name of Monkey Son #1) came to me and told me that he wanted to marry me, and then, realizing that I was spoken for, said he wanted to find someone like me to marry.

First off, young girls of the world--cringe! Whichever of you my son marries, he will be comparing you to me! *Insert evil laugh here.* OK, but seriously, I'd probably be an OK mother-in-law. But I digress.

Recently Philosopher Child came to me and said, "I have two girlfriends. But I don't know which of them I'm going to marry."

I looked at my 5-year-old with the most joyful disbelief. I grabbed his hand, and dragged him down the hall to Husband. I laughingly told Philosopher Child to repeat what he just said. And he did. Husband and I thought it was a hoot!

And the real kicker? I doesn't know either of the girls' names.

Tuesday, August 25, 2009

Patient Anger

Patient Anger: noun. The anger you feel even when you are trying hard to give someone the benefit of the doubt.

First off, a thousand apologies for leaving my blog for so long. Truth is, I didn't really leave for that long, and I actually finished this post a while ago and thought I had posted it. But I only saved it. My bad. Now on with our story.

Philosopher Child's classroom is about as far away from the school entrance as you can get. So, like so many other parents of kindergarteners, I walk him to class. On one such day, I had just dropped him off to class, barely on time, and was on my way out of the school while pushing Viking Toddler in the stroller.

When the final bell rings, a few adults close the gate across school's main entrance. The final bell was ringing as I was hurrying to the gate. A woman there was yelling for the kids on the other side to hurry up and get in, then started closing the gate. I called for her to wait. She saw me, but closed the gate anyway, and merely pointed me to another exit.

Part of me wants to think, well, the gate open/closing times are probably very controlled and she had to close it immediately. And then part of me thinks, come on. I'm a few feet from the gate, pushing a toddler in a stroller that's more obstinate than he is, and you, instead of waiting a few seconds, decide to make life just a little harder. Really?

Thursday, August 20, 2009

Don't you love apron giveaways?

OK, to be honest, I'd love them a little more if I won them. But this one particularly interests me because if you win, you get to choose which apron you want! Woot woot!

Interested? Hop on over to this post on The Apron Godesses blog and enter!

Friday, August 14, 2009

Viking Irony

Viking Irony: noun. Any irony perpetrated by Viking Toddler.

OK, so this is me specific. But feel free to remove the "viking" from the front of the word and add your own child's name. Feel better? Feel included?

Good. Moving on.

This was Philosopher Child's first week of school, although kindergarten didn't start until Thursday, so he's really only gone two days. Anyway, at the end of the first day, he was playing in the living room with Viking Toddler. I suppose his recent school activity gave him a boost of confidence, since he yelled out, "I'm stronger than any baby!"

Viking Toddler's answer to this was to immediately run at and latch on to Philosopher Child and take him down. Grabbed him around the waist (which is shoulder height on Viking Toddler) and tackled him to the floor. Keep in mind, Viking Toddler is just over half the size of Philosopher Child.

OK, so I know that Viking Toddler probably didn't tackle his brother because of what he said, especially because I doubt he knows what the word "stronger" means. It was just funny that he decided to play football without the football part at that moment.

And then he tried to do it again moments later. Who's Mommy's little viking? Now play nice with your brother.

Thursday, August 13, 2009


Eduguilt: noun. Guilt felt over any aspect of a child's education.

Today is Philosopher Child's first day of school. He was dressed before we even got up, even if we had to remind him that he was missing a few things.

We made it a family activity to take him to school this morning, which is a mere few blocks from our house, and though he was excited to go to school, he complained the whole way that his backpack was too heavy. To be fair, he did have one of those insulated lunch pails and a full 32oz bottle of water in it. He is unaccustomed to wearing a backpack that isn't empty or in the shape of Cookie Monster. Still, he was very happy with his Cubs backpack even if it was heavy.

He didn't cry when the teacher told all the parents that it was time to go and the children were in good hands. He gave a happy wave, thrilled to be sitting in a seat just his size at a table that had his name written out in happy letters. He was surrounded by what he calls his kids, or his friends that he can't remember the names of. You've never seen a more content child.

And the guilt begins.

Am I doing the right thing by sending him to public school? I already saw in his kindergarten testing that he is more likely to maintain he can't do something if he finds it mundane. Maybe I should have done homeschool. After all, he is starting to read already, and in kindergarten they will first learn what letters look like. His an independent learner. Am I doing the right thing for him?

And then there was this coffee meeting for new parents. I've already been to 4 meetings at the school dealing with everything from registration to how lunch works to where he stands from an academic point of view. Husband and I opted not to go, but oh, did I feel guilty about skipping out! What if I'm missing something important in the meeting? Or maybe it's just a meet and greet.

I'm looking at the option of homeschooling in case he doesn't do so well in this environment. I've talked to a few people close to me about the subject. Of the three close women I've spoken to, one said I'm right to have my concerns. Two basically said I'm probably concerned over nothing. In any case, our first action would be to talk with the teacher if any problems come up. She seems very open and reasonable. Homeschooling is a last resort for us (not that homeschooling is a bad thing at all!), but two of the close people that I talked to seem to be concerned that I am about to yank him out of school before it's even started.

I'm a mommy. I'm allowed to be concerned. That's my view.

But I'm also not irrational.

Monday, August 3, 2009

They're doing it again!

Yes, dear friends, it is that time of the week again. The wonderful gals over at The Apron Goddesses (TAG) are giving away a super funky fantastic apron. It's a lovely little retro-inspired number. If you love aprons (I do!), pop on over and read how you can enter to win.