Today's special word is either "hormones" or "patience". Either way, it has been a long morning. Don thought about staying home from his men's group because his accountability partner is out of the country, but he decided to go in case there was some need for him to be there. It turned out that he needed to not be here. The girls started a screaming match that required me to get off the cell phone with Don who was driving to his group. (Don and I are usually on the phone with one another if we are not in the same place. I was serious about my claim that we are the most codependent couple in the world.)
Katie had been told to change already because of an ink stain on the leg and a short sleeved shirt I deemed unacceptable because it is 40 degrees outside today. Katie was refusing to change because Erin was "staring at her". Erin was curled up in a ball on the floor having failed to get dressed at all because Katie was trying to "boss" her. I figured this could be a quick fix. I told Katie she could have privacy if she dressed in the bathroom, but that she could not order Erin out of their shared bedroom. I told Erin to get dressed in whatever she wanted to wear, but to do it immediately after making it clear that she could not be made to leave the bedroom by Katie.
Twenty minutes later, Erin is dressed, but she has not brushed her hair and she has no shoes on her feet. Katie has made no progress at all, but she is tormenting her little sister by pulling clothes which belong to Erin off the hangers and dropping them on the floor so that Erin will have to pick them up later. Erin is understandably protesting. I send Erin off with instructions to brush her hair (with shoes and socks in hand) in order to both remove her from the line of fire and get her ready to go. I inform Katie that she will change clothes, pick up the items off the floor, and that I will be telling Zach that she cannot ride to school with him this morning because she is too busy throwing a fit. I also inform her that I can wait all day, but that she will have to explain why she is late to school if she does not get moving. Katie is sobbing, but I need to get Erin out the door.
I drive Erin to school. It's an opportunity to reiterate that Katie does not have the right to toss Erin out of their bedroom. Erin seems satisfied that I understand her problem. We talk about how we are supposed to help others, but that this morning there was no way Erin could help Katie. Instead, Erin needed to just get on with her own responsibilities and let Mom handle Katie's issues. We talked about personal responsibility, and I stated that everybody has their own. Erin said, "Except for babies." Okay then.
I returned home to find Katie curled up asleep on her bed... still wearing the short-sleeved shirt and stained jeans. I contemplated strangling her, but in the end I woke her up by asking loudly why she was not yet changed. The water works resumed and my girl wailed that she did not know what to wear. (We're the recipients of mountains of hand-me-downs and the girls were given new items for Christmas. There is no shortage of clothing.) Instead of pursuing the strangulation plan, I stalked to the hanging rack to offer a couple of suggestions because I can see that she is so overwrought that she won't be getting anywhere if left to her own devices. I then opted to leave the room stating that she could dress in the privacy she had previously requested.
Katie is dressed in long sleeves, but she is still wearing the ink-stained jeans. I do not really care about the stain at this point. She won't be cold which is my primary concern. (I place a hand on her head and pray for her while giving her a much-needed hug. I wish I could do this growing up thing for her.) She is also still intermittently crying. I ask if she has herself "together enough" to go on to class. She says she doesn't know. Since she is already tardy, I figure we will sort this out on the brief drive to school. As we leave our neighborhood she is red-faced with tears streaming and she is gulping air in between sobs that are growing rather than diminishing.
I suggest that we drive around the block so she can regain her composure before she goes to class. I can see her trying to do this in the rearview mirror. I suggest that if she gets upset at school she can ask to call me. She is afraid she will have to explain why she needs her Mommy and start crying at school. (That would not go over well in 5th grade. The girls have started to turn mean with hormones as we have already seen this morning.)
I pull up to the school, and we walk quickly into the front office. I tell the registrar that Katie will be a little late this morning "because she is 10", and we go back to the truck. (I thank God that Don is at his group because this is not the morning for the most expedient solution to our daughter's behavioral troubles.) I drive over to Starbucks thinking of the times I have met a friend there for a cup of tea or coffee. Katie perks up quickly. She seems to like the idea of a cup of decaf hot tea. (How very grown-up this likely seems to her. It definitely beats the grounding that she will also enjoy after this morning's work and the embarrassment of Zach knowing she threw a fit.) I explain that this is a ritual that I periodically engage in with Daddy, Sylvia, Ally, Denise, or some other friend that never fails as a pick-me-up. (Then again, I get a caffeinated beverage.)
She is now calm enough to talk about what was really bothering her this morning. That would be everything. She is chafing at the level of closeness and lack of privacy in our household. Her brother is weird. She tries to include him socially because he is also one of the friendliest people on earth which sometimes leads to embarrassment. Her little sister is ever-present. Katie is tired of sharing everything from the same bedroom to much of the same clothing with Erin. Erin is seven and the nuances of Katie's pre-teen moods frequently escape her leading to episodes like we experienced this morning. Mostly, Katie is disappointed with her own lack of self-control.
Wednesday, January 30, 2008
Monday, January 28, 2008
Good Game
Today we played a new game. Bella was laying on her side sliding back and forth on the floor in front of the sofa with a paw stretched out underneath it. While I found that mildy entertaining, I figured her little legs just are not long enough to reach whatever she was after. Feeling momentarily merciful, I pulled the sofa out to discover exactly what had caught her eye. Over a dozen ponytail holders were under the sofa. While one or two may have wandered under there after escaping from either my or the girls' hair, I doubt we can accept full responsibility. Bella can. Hair bands are Bella's very favorite toy other than dog tails. (The hair bands are far more cooperative about being played with than the dog tails are typically.)
Don and I agreed that flinging all the ponytail holders in the air at once would be a good idea to get the cat excited. The cat, in true cat form, did not particularly care. Until I kicked one catching her undivided attention. She likes that very much. I kick a hair band so it skitters across the laminate floor at Bella. She entertains me by failing to hit the brakes and crashing into walls and furniture chasing after the hairband. It's a good game.
When the dogs decide to play it becomes a complicated game. It's like soccer, but with hairy four-footed players who have the distinct disadvantage of being unable to get their footing as they pick up speed. Hee-hee. This is my kind of game. We add to the challenge by putting another rubber band into play. Bella alters the play to more closely resemble "Monkey in the Middle" by playing from atop furniture the dogs are not allowed to climb. The dogs give up easily and decide to nap. Bella discovers a power cord to chew on requiring me to put the furniture back in place before the cat fries herself. I think it is her way of indicating that the game is over.
Don and I agreed that flinging all the ponytail holders in the air at once would be a good idea to get the cat excited. The cat, in true cat form, did not particularly care. Until I kicked one catching her undivided attention. She likes that very much. I kick a hair band so it skitters across the laminate floor at Bella. She entertains me by failing to hit the brakes and crashing into walls and furniture chasing after the hairband. It's a good game.
When the dogs decide to play it becomes a complicated game. It's like soccer, but with hairy four-footed players who have the distinct disadvantage of being unable to get their footing as they pick up speed. Hee-hee. This is my kind of game. We add to the challenge by putting another rubber band into play. Bella alters the play to more closely resemble "Monkey in the Middle" by playing from atop furniture the dogs are not allowed to climb. The dogs give up easily and decide to nap. Bella discovers a power cord to chew on requiring me to put the furniture back in place before the cat fries herself. I think it is her way of indicating that the game is over.
Denial
Ahhh. This week we hit Peter's denial of Christ in our study of John. There is Peter standing ready with a sword to defend Christ; yet, that is not the way the scene plays out. Instead, Peter is halted by Christ, Malchus gets to keep his ear, Jesus chooses to submit to arrest, and the text comes to Peter's denial of Christ--- not once, but three times over the course of one night. I am no different than Peter. I fumble for my sword ready to race into battle when that is not the way needed. "Here I am Lord--- I am READY!" The truth is that I am not ready. I am a work in progress. I am sometimes overeager, and sometimes too hesitant.
Most recently, hesitation reared its ugly head in speaking up to call the magazines that my daughter's friend brought into our home what they are--- gossip. (I don't want to embarrass my daughter, but the Bible addresses gossip as well as my responsibility as a parent in training my child. This is not a gray area.) I asked the girls about the magazines specifically pointing out a basic definition of gossip. Katie was not embarrassed, but she did get the point. Her friend remained oblivious, but the magazines were stowed back in the girl's duffel bag once Kate's loss of interest was shown. As it turned out, I did not have to embarrass Katie to fulfill my role as her teacher, and I did not choose fitting in with a pair of pre-teens over training my daughter and avoiding gossip.
It's in these everyday situations that I most identify with Peter. I didn't sell out Christ for a gossip magazine and inclusion in a Saturday night sleepover. That's good, but it is unlikely to be the last time I find myself faced with acknowledging Christ in this sort of small detail. Will I choose to read Newsweek instead of People next time I am sitting in a waiting room killing time? Will I choose to keep my mouth shut next time one of my lovies comes up with something I find to be questionable or wrong?
Most recently, hesitation reared its ugly head in speaking up to call the magazines that my daughter's friend brought into our home what they are--- gossip. (I don't want to embarrass my daughter, but the Bible addresses gossip as well as my responsibility as a parent in training my child. This is not a gray area.) I asked the girls about the magazines specifically pointing out a basic definition of gossip. Katie was not embarrassed, but she did get the point. Her friend remained oblivious, but the magazines were stowed back in the girl's duffel bag once Kate's loss of interest was shown. As it turned out, I did not have to embarrass Katie to fulfill my role as her teacher, and I did not choose fitting in with a pair of pre-teens over training my daughter and avoiding gossip.
It's in these everyday situations that I most identify with Peter. I didn't sell out Christ for a gossip magazine and inclusion in a Saturday night sleepover. That's good, but it is unlikely to be the last time I find myself faced with acknowledging Christ in this sort of small detail. Will I choose to read Newsweek instead of People next time I am sitting in a waiting room killing time? Will I choose to keep my mouth shut next time one of my lovies comes up with something I find to be questionable or wrong?
Saturday, January 26, 2008
Erin Interview 1
Everyone can use a little of Erin's perspective. You won't get it here though.
Mom: Today you tasted German food. What did you try?
Erin: I tried... schnitzel.
(Erin and I disagree about my typing her responses word-for-word. Erin does not like that.)
Mom: What did you think?
Erin: It tastes good. (Mom, what are those dot dot dots?)
Mom:They show that something has been left out.
Erin: *silence*
Mom [repeats this question several times]: Will you eat it again?
Erin [finally]: Yes
(Interview comes to an end because Erin does not want her words typed.)
Mom: Today you tasted German food. What did you try?
Erin: I tried... schnitzel.
(Erin and I disagree about my typing her responses word-for-word. Erin does not like that.)
Mom: What did you think?
Erin: It tastes good. (Mom, what are those dot dot dots?)
Mom:They show that something has been left out.
Erin: *silence*
Mom [repeats this question several times]: Will you eat it again?
Erin [finally]: Yes
(Interview comes to an end because Erin does not want her words typed.)
Evan Interview 2
Evan's an interesting guy. One interview can hardly do him justice.
Mom: If you were an animal, which one would you be?
Evan: Probably, uhhh... I'd probably say a tiger, or like a leopard. Some kind of bog cat... hahahahah, Mom! You said "bog cat".
Evan will no longer be available for this interview. He made an slight error in judgment. His sister returned home from a "spa party" with an elaborate hairdo. The boy chose to offer what he thought was a tremendous compliment to his sister. He said she looked "like Padme"... as in Natalie Portman in Star Wars. Oh, dear.
Mom: If you were an animal, which one would you be?
Evan: Probably, uhhh... I'd probably say a tiger, or like a leopard. Some kind of bog cat... hahahahah, Mom! You said "bog cat".
Evan will no longer be available for this interview. He made an slight error in judgment. His sister returned home from a "spa party" with an elaborate hairdo. The boy chose to offer what he thought was a tremendous compliment to his sister. He said she looked "like Padme"... as in Natalie Portman in Star Wars. Oh, dear.
Mega Mom
It's thirty-something degrees and we are going for a walk. The dogs need to go out, so we will take them out. It's not really about the dogs though. It has more to do with the Mighty Mega Mom burgers we had for dinner. (The kids named them. The mighty meganess is a quarter pound of beef in patty form with Cavendar's and a smidge of barbecue sauce to give it a bit of Momness, and it prevents the kids from asking for Mickey D's.) We calculated that even with homemade burgers and sugar-free buns, our meal still packed more calories than Don could comfortably ignore. (Not so much a problem for me. I don't care. I was excited about eating.) That's the real culprit behind our walking. Walking burns calories which in turn prevent our yummy, fattening dinner from sticking with us in the form of a spare tire and the inspiration for "Baby Got Back".
Last summer I was totally on board with counting every last calorie we consumed and burned. I am obsessive with details, so we were likely pretty accurate in the accounting. We also dropped over a hundred pounds between us that have stayed off through the holidays and quitting smoking--- neither of which is known for helping maintain weight much less weight loss. At this point, I am pretty happy with my shape. It works for me, and the pronounced pear-shape is the result of producing the herd of children who refer to me as "Mom"... or at least the middle one who chose to grow transverse instead of up and down. Barring surgical intervention, this is my body. It's working pretty well at the moment, so why complain?
My spouse wants to stay as far from his previous weight of "too much" as possible. He's got this very cool habit of drawing a line in the sand and staying as far from the line as possible. He does not like to walk the line. I appreciate this since folks who walk the line have a tendency to slip over it more easily than those who stay way back. So I try to maintain a balance between the southern cooking I love and the healthy, low-cal meals that will allow us to not wear elastic-waist pants. I only sometimes make fun of my precious spouse's need to go on five walks a day, and then usually just because I do not want to be included. He's going to keep us both in far better shape than I would if left to my own devices. (Said devices would be heavily weighted toward York peppermint patties.)
Last summer I was totally on board with counting every last calorie we consumed and burned. I am obsessive with details, so we were likely pretty accurate in the accounting. We also dropped over a hundred pounds between us that have stayed off through the holidays and quitting smoking--- neither of which is known for helping maintain weight much less weight loss. At this point, I am pretty happy with my shape. It works for me, and the pronounced pear-shape is the result of producing the herd of children who refer to me as "Mom"... or at least the middle one who chose to grow transverse instead of up and down. Barring surgical intervention, this is my body. It's working pretty well at the moment, so why complain?
My spouse wants to stay as far from his previous weight of "too much" as possible. He's got this very cool habit of drawing a line in the sand and staying as far from the line as possible. He does not like to walk the line. I appreciate this since folks who walk the line have a tendency to slip over it more easily than those who stay way back. So I try to maintain a balance between the southern cooking I love and the healthy, low-cal meals that will allow us to not wear elastic-waist pants. I only sometimes make fun of my precious spouse's need to go on five walks a day, and then usually just because I do not want to be included. He's going to keep us both in far better shape than I would if left to my own devices. (Said devices would be heavily weighted toward York peppermint patties.)
Friday, January 25, 2008
Development
The other day my pregnant pal made an apt comparison between her gravid state and my focus on Poland. (I had expressed concern that I would be useless for the next four months if I remain focused on Poland.) She likened that "hyper-focus" to the overwhelming awareness of new life as soon as pregnancy is confirmed. A whole future springs into one's awareness with initial notification. We each have a date seared into our minds that divides time into sections of "before", "after", and "when".
Images flit through my hopes and dreams of what might be. Those images will coalesce into a fixed image over time, but for now the image is a gray blur much like the old Polaroid* photographs that ejected from the camera wet with a gray square centered on the picture to develop over the next few minutes until the image was set. The particular photo developing is one that includes faint images of Lisa and Shelley, but I cannot know who else might be in that shot. So I will wait for the time to come that I will be able to clearly see the who, when, where, and how that will all fit into praying for Poland.
Images flit through my hopes and dreams of what might be. Those images will coalesce into a fixed image over time, but for now the image is a gray blur much like the old Polaroid* photographs that ejected from the camera wet with a gray square centered on the picture to develop over the next few minutes until the image was set. The particular photo developing is one that includes faint images of Lisa and Shelley, but I cannot know who else might be in that shot. So I will wait for the time to come that I will be able to clearly see the who, when, where, and how that will all fit into praying for Poland.
Thursday, January 24, 2008
Adventure
After looking up Polish recipes on-line yesterday, I was ready for a little bit of culinary adventure today. Sylvia suggested German fare for lunch at the Bavarian Grill. Sylvia is well-traveled enough to be able to vouch for authenticity and explain the differences I might see in Polish fare. I am not an adventurous eater, so this was a major leap for me.
The plate of assorted salads made of entirely recognizable cucumber, green bean, tomato, cabbage, and beets was a reassuring start. Sylvia had ordered all sorts of nifty things. I can now say I have tried and like spaetzle, schnitzel, and something that was a sausage. We topped off our meal with black forest cake and coffee.
Sylvia attempted to help me with the correct pronunciations of the foods we had eaten. Languages are just not my strong suit despite the incredibly fun words. I was very taken with a word that started with an "L" that we saw on some signs. It meant airport, but I don't remember what it was exactly. Sylvia suggested that I attempt languages like German or Spanish for my fledgling forays outside of English.
It was an entertaining afternoon with Sylvia sharing her experiences and me just soaking it in. I'm not quite ready for herring and sour cream together or travel outside the suburbs yet, but we're making progress!
The plate of assorted salads made of entirely recognizable cucumber, green bean, tomato, cabbage, and beets was a reassuring start. Sylvia had ordered all sorts of nifty things. I can now say I have tried and like spaetzle, schnitzel, and something that was a sausage. We topped off our meal with black forest cake and coffee.
Sylvia attempted to help me with the correct pronunciations of the foods we had eaten. Languages are just not my strong suit despite the incredibly fun words. I was very taken with a word that started with an "L" that we saw on some signs. It meant airport, but I don't remember what it was exactly. Sylvia suggested that I attempt languages like German or Spanish for my fledgling forays outside of English.
It was an entertaining afternoon with Sylvia sharing her experiences and me just soaking it in. I'm not quite ready for herring and sour cream together or travel outside the suburbs yet, but we're making progress!
Equality
I walked into the girls room to tuck them into bed to be informed by Erin that Katie was crying and would not say why. Katie attempted to brush aside her tears as "hormones" only to find that Mom was not going to buy that reason. Katie was working herself into a fine tizzy over the unfairness of her life. Erin had joyfully related her great fortune in having been treated to an ice cream cone while her sibs were out at their evening activities. Katie somehow missed the opportunity to be glad for her sister's good fortune. Thanks to the burden of a green-eyed moster, the child spiraled into misery as she proceeded to pile up a list of missed treats. She literally wailed her final woe. (In case you are curious, Evan & Erin ate the last pieces of chocolate bread at Christmas while she was taking a nap.) I tenderly brushed Katie's hair back from her face, wiped away her tears, and promised to be sure to ground her next time I find it necessary to impose restriction on one of her siblings. The water works dried up as the sniffling burst into a cough that sounded suspiciously like laughter. Erin chose that moment to proclaim that, "Mom and Dad don't treat us all the same because we are not all the same!". I gave both the girls a hug, pointed out that while we do not give them each identical perks and treats, neither do they have to share one another's disciplinary actions. Point made, I kissed both girls Good Night and headed off to bed.
Wednesday, January 23, 2008
We're on!
This morning I went up to the church to meet with my friend Abigail. I don't think either of us actually had an agenda. She walked me upstairs to see if we could track down the Missions guy for our church. We couldn't because he was in a meeting. She introduced me to a man who seriously resembled a slightly more youthful Papa. This fellow was just the right person to talk with this morning. He was able to describe "prayer walking" to me. It's pretty much what I thought, and I cannot do it from home. He described his own experiences with God's provision while travelling in China.
He also filled me in on the news that I will probably need more than a passport to travel. I very much appreciated the explanation of what a visa actually is, as well as the instructions on how to get one! I was pretty excited about the $100 check I have been given toward this sort of expense since the visa will cost an additional $100 on top of the fees already paid to get the passport. I'm starting to wonder if there might be some sort of pyramid scheme in documents. Better still, the lady who will help me with the visa once my passport comes in is none other than one of the volunteers I worked with from the Katrina Relief Distribution Center two years ago!
I headed out to the car looking forward to lunch. Who should come through the door to the stairwell, but the Missions pastor I was actually looking for to begin with this morning. He had his lunch in a take-out bag and only 15 minutes to his next meeting. Rafe still agreed to sit down with me. I explained in brief that I have no idea what I am doing. As soon as I mentioned Abigail, he let me know that he had just run into her while picking up his lunch and she had mentioned me. He listened, asked a few questions, and took a phone call from his next appointment who was running late. I will be back in contact with Rafe as we go forward. I headed out to the truck with a warning to be wary of spiritual warfare.
At home there was an e-mail from Shelley saying that Jack & Joan have given the trip the "Go!" Whoopee! Not that I was in any real doubt, but I am definitely going to Poland! She is asking that Lisa and I start hunting scripture references in preparation for the spiritual warfare sure to come. I'm still feeling kind of swept up, but I am becoming less jittery as we go along. It makes a huge difference to have met our host, and Shelley sent a photo tour of Poznan, too.
He also filled me in on the news that I will probably need more than a passport to travel. I very much appreciated the explanation of what a visa actually is, as well as the instructions on how to get one! I was pretty excited about the $100 check I have been given toward this sort of expense since the visa will cost an additional $100 on top of the fees already paid to get the passport. I'm starting to wonder if there might be some sort of pyramid scheme in documents. Better still, the lady who will help me with the visa once my passport comes in is none other than one of the volunteers I worked with from the Katrina Relief Distribution Center two years ago!
I headed out to the car looking forward to lunch. Who should come through the door to the stairwell, but the Missions pastor I was actually looking for to begin with this morning. He had his lunch in a take-out bag and only 15 minutes to his next meeting. Rafe still agreed to sit down with me. I explained in brief that I have no idea what I am doing. As soon as I mentioned Abigail, he let me know that he had just run into her while picking up his lunch and she had mentioned me. He listened, asked a few questions, and took a phone call from his next appointment who was running late. I will be back in contact with Rafe as we go forward. I headed out to the truck with a warning to be wary of spiritual warfare.
At home there was an e-mail from Shelley saying that Jack & Joan have given the trip the "Go!" Whoopee! Not that I was in any real doubt, but I am definitely going to Poland! She is asking that Lisa and I start hunting scripture references in preparation for the spiritual warfare sure to come. I'm still feeling kind of swept up, but I am becoming less jittery as we go along. It makes a huge difference to have met our host, and Shelley sent a photo tour of Poznan, too.
Evan Interview 1
Mom: So, Evan... what do you think of me going to Poland?
Evan: I don't really know. I think I would like it better if I could come.
Mom: Do you know why this is such a big deal? Do you know where Poland is?
Evan: I don't know. Isn't Poland like far up north or something?
(Interviewer takes a timeout to search maps for the boy. We compare the size and location of our home state to Poland.)
Mom: Now that you know where Poland really is, what do you think?
Evan: I'm not too sure I want you to go because it's a whole continent away. It would probably really run up the phone bill with calling a lot. Plus, it would be hard to find good times to call.
Mom: Poland is 7 hours ahead of us. That means it is currently just after...
Evan: 2:00... uh, Mom, shouldn't you be driving me to school right now?
Mom nods, finishes typing.
Evan: I don't really know. I think I would like it better if I could come.
Mom: Do you know why this is such a big deal? Do you know where Poland is?
Evan: I don't know. Isn't Poland like far up north or something?
(Interviewer takes a timeout to search maps for the boy. We compare the size and location of our home state to Poland.)
Mom: Now that you know where Poland really is, what do you think?
Evan: I'm not too sure I want you to go because it's a whole continent away. It would probably really run up the phone bill with calling a lot. Plus, it would be hard to find good times to call.
Mom: Poland is 7 hours ahead of us. That means it is currently just after...
Evan: 2:00... uh, Mom, shouldn't you be driving me to school right now?
Mom nods, finishes typing.
Sleepless & the Superstar
Okay, well, sleeping less anyway. (That may have something to do with the psychotic purring ball of fluff set on reducing my feet to ribbons. Bad Bella needs no sleep tonight, and I am her chosen playmate for the evening.) Erin was up earlier just as I was starting to feel sleepy. She was upset about _______. (I am still waiting for an answer to that, so I can't help you.)
She needs her rest because she is the Superstar of the Week which entails lots of paying attention to Erin. Today she took in her carefully selected photos of her family and pets. She is also this week's game expert. That means she explains how to play a game she brings from home to her classmates. Said game is available for play during centers. She will also be reading an excerpt from a book. (It is supposed to be a "prepared" reading, but I'm not worried about it. She'll do just fine since reading and cartwheels are two of the things she does best.) She also has the opportunity to put an unknown number (between 22 and 100) of items into the estimate jar. She wanted candy. (I obeyed the state guidelines last year about not sending in sweets to school. I would like to note that I was the only parent to do so. Three guesses how thrilled my kids were with passing out little bottles of bubbles or temporary tattoos when the other kids were supplying gigantic cupcakes with mounds of fluffy rainbow-colored icing... and sprinkles.) We gave her 65 chocolate hearts, but because I am up in the middle of the night she now has 64. She would be wise to get the estimate jar far from her chocolate-loving mommy. Too bad that the little duckie who brought me to full wakefulness and my "second wind" just at bedtime is currently snoring away oblivious to the untimely disappearance of one of her candies.
She needs her rest because she is the Superstar of the Week which entails lots of paying attention to Erin. Today she took in her carefully selected photos of her family and pets. She is also this week's game expert. That means she explains how to play a game she brings from home to her classmates. Said game is available for play during centers. She will also be reading an excerpt from a book. (It is supposed to be a "prepared" reading, but I'm not worried about it. She'll do just fine since reading and cartwheels are two of the things she does best.) She also has the opportunity to put an unknown number (between 22 and 100) of items into the estimate jar. She wanted candy. (I obeyed the state guidelines last year about not sending in sweets to school. I would like to note that I was the only parent to do so. Three guesses how thrilled my kids were with passing out little bottles of bubbles or temporary tattoos when the other kids were supplying gigantic cupcakes with mounds of fluffy rainbow-colored icing... and sprinkles.) We gave her 65 chocolate hearts, but because I am up in the middle of the night she now has 64. She would be wise to get the estimate jar far from her chocolate-loving mommy. Too bad that the little duckie who brought me to full wakefulness and my "second wind" just at bedtime is currently snoring away oblivious to the untimely disappearance of one of her candies.
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)