Category Archives: school

Irony

The irony of being a mommy blogger is that being a mommy often gets in the way of blogging.  For a long while, I wrote blog posts solely during naptime.  Then, I gained a few precious morning preschool hours.  Now, I have plenty of time to write when the kids are at school or camp.

On this steamy, drizzly, dark, and thundery Sunday evening (I’m trying to set a mood here), I’m about to embark on 14 days of camp is over, school is two weeks away, there’s still summer homework to be done, and my sanity is somewhere at the end of the rainbow (I hope) parenting.

Folks, I’m leaning in.  Leaning in hard.  Yes, I’m finally reading Sheryl Sandberg’s best-selling book, and I have oodles to say and write about it!  That is, if it weren’t for the job in which I’m currently totally and completely in the weeds and for which my bosses (my kids) are far better at negotiating than me.

Today, we went sneaker shopping for school.  I bumped into a friend at the store, and as we chatted about this and that, the sales woman overheard us talking about the end of camp. [Insert dramatic music].

She said, “Camp is over?”

I said, “Yes.  Well, there are extra weeks that you can sign the kids up for, but I didn’t.”

She asked, “Why not?”

I thought, I have no fucking idea.  The next two weeks are going to be horrific.  I said, “Well, I should be able to handle this parenting thing for a few weeks.”

Should.  Oh yeah, I’m leaning in all right.

My kids are occasionally self-sufficient.  Sometimes.  Like when there’s a bowl of popcorn between them on the couch and a new episode of “Teen Titans” or “Legends of Chima” is about to start.  Then I might have a few minutes to do something besides vacuum crumbs off the couch or turn over a load of laundry.  Amazingly, though, if I even attempt to sit down at my computer – if my butt even grazes my desk chair – I inevitably hear, “Mommmmmy!”

It’s like magic.  My kids are magicians.  (Riley, especially.)

I sit.  “Mommmmmy!”

I sit again.  “Mommmmmy!”

I sit yet again.  “Mommmmmy!”

You get the idea.

No one gives a crap if I’m on my hands and knees scraping Play-Doh off the floor under the kitchen table, but if inspiration strikes and I want to sit down and write, they know.  Currently, the Xbox Kinect is entertaining both of them for 5-4-3-2…

“Mommmmmy!”

Gotta wrap it up here.

Despite my predicament, I’ve been fairly productive today.  I went for a 2.5 mile run.  I stocked up on groceries.  We successfully purchased new sneakers for school.  I baked banana bread.  From scratch.  I made dinner.  From scratch.  And even though my picky eaters remain picky with a capital “P,” we sat down as a family and ate together.  In the dining room.  With placements.  Without television.  And no one cried.  I shit you not.

(The irony of this blog post is that I wrote it to tell you that I might not have much time to write over the next few weeks.)

What are you up to?

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Filed under camp, motherhood, running, school, writing

The Graduate

What a week!

The convergence of finishing the last week of school, buying and baking teacher gifts, dealing with Terminix (termites having been swarming in my kitchen on and off for two weeks, which has been totally awesome), coping with the stress of summer camp cabin placements, and suffering from some crazy-ass PMS (my apologies) has been about as traumatic as when I went for my 37-week checkup when I was pregnant with Dylan and my doctor told me I had preeclampsia and needed to go straight to the hospital for a c-section, except that Mike and I were supposed to go to his office holiday party that night, I was supposed to get a haircut the next morning, I hadn’t stopped working yet, I’d just eaten a turkey sub (epidural would have to wait 8 hours), I had no bag packed and no birth plan whatsoever, Harry was at Petco getting groomed, and there was a full moon (and thus every Tom, Dick, and Harry was going to have a baby that night).

It. Was. Nuts.

This week has been pretty nutty, too, but in the middle of all the chaos (and PMS-related crying), Dylan, my first baby, graduated from Kindergarten.

diploma

It’s been a monumental year of learning for Dylan.  First and foremost, he learned that recess is the best part of the day.  Less significant (to him, anyway), he learned to read, spell, and add and subtract, and he even knows a little bit about vertices.  That’s right, there’s geometry in the Kindergarten math curriculum.  I predict that I won’t be able to help with his first grade math homework by Thanksgiving.

It’s also been a big year of growing.  Literally.  On graduation morning, I discovered that his pants were a smidge too short.  (Oops.)

dpants

And figuratively.  Dylan has grown this year in ways that will help make him a decent, caring, and giving adult.

A few days ago, Dylan told me about a boy at school who played soccer too rough at recess.  He purposely kicked kids in the legs and threw the ball at Dylan and his friend’s faces.  I said, “That kid sounds like a real piece of…a real piece of…”  I paused for a moment to choose my words wisely when Dylan piped in with, “…shit.  He’s a real piece of shit.”

Isn’t it adorable how we finish each other’s sentences?

Yes, shit is a bad word.  Yes, Dylan said it.  Out loud.  But, we have an understanding.  Helping him recognize the qualities of a good friend – kindness, honesty, trust, empathy, and responsibility – in others and within himself has been backbreaking work this year, and if a little bit of tough (or “shit”) talk helped me get through to him, then so be it.

Dylan had a tough time with one particular boy in his class this year.  I did everything I could to intervene, but no matter what I said or did, Dylan repeatedly made himself vulnerable and got hurt over and over again.  He just didn’t get it.  He didn’t understand that the kid wasn’t a good friend, and it was infuriating!

Let’s face it.  Dylan’s going to encounter mean people at every age and stage of his life.  I’m all grown up (or an “Old Lady” as Riley so lovingly calls me), and I still meet mean people and struggle with friendships – with knowing when they’re authentic (or not), knowing when they’re healthy (or not), and knowing when to hold on to them (or not).

I want to empower Dylan to make smart decisions about with whom he makes friends (and, thankfully, he has some fantastic ones), but that’s a lot for a six-year-old to handle, especially after spending his toddlerhood in an “everyone is your friend” bubble.

A few weeks ago, Dylan came home from school upset because a kid tossed one of his Ninjago swords into the bushes.  I told him that I felt really bad about the situation, but I reminded him that, in the end, he was responsible for his own toys.  I asked him, “Why did you let this kid play with your toys in the first place?”  Silence.  Then crying. “Is this kid a good friend?  Does he care about your feelings?  Does he care if you get hurt?”  More crying.  “Does he care enough about you to be responsible with your toys?  Does he look out for your best interests?”  And more crying.

I lost it.  I said (or perhaps shouted), “Dylan, I have a secret to tell you.  Some people in this world are mean.  I’m all grown up and I meet mean people all the time.  So does Daddy.  It’s sad and it’s disappointing, but some people are just not nice.  Some people are just…they’re just shitty, and this kid at school who threw your toy in the bushes seems like a real shit.  You’re going to meet mean and shitty people all the time, so you have to try your best to surround yourself with nice people who truly care about you.”

Did I go too far?  Probably.  Did I curse a lot?  Yup.  Did I break his innocent little heart?  I think so.  But, did I finally get through to him?  The look on his face told me Y-E-S.

It took almost all of Kindergarten, but Dylan is finally beginning to understand what it means to be a good friend, and I can’t think of a more important lesson for him to carry through his life.

This has been a year chock-full of changes for Dylan, including his pants size!  Fortunately, he’s held on tight to his passion, imagination, and irrevocable ability to live with his big, beautiful, beating heart on his sleeve.  Last year, Dylan announced on his Pre-K graduation video that when he grows up he wants to be a popcorn maker.  (He does love popcorn.)  A year later, he’s a few inches taller, a lot smarter, and gobs wiser, but he’s the same little dreamer, only now he occasionally says “shit,” and per his Kindergarten graduation ceremony slide show, when he grows up he wants to be a sticker book seller.  (He does love sticker books.)

Dream big, Pickle!

m&d

Mama In The Picture!

Off to first grade…

offtofirstgrade

(And off to Pre-K for the little guy…)

Congratulations to all of your graduates – big and small!

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Filed under motherhood, school