A few of the gems from Domino this weekend:
We went to watch the Silverado Country Club fireworks on the 3rd. We parked a few blocks away and had to walk through the neighborhood of wealthy homes to get to the golf course. As we walked past one particularly spectacular home, Domino said "Wow! Those people are so rich I bet their door bell goes Cha-Ching!"
As we loaded up for our annual trip to the Antioch water park the excitement was building. Suddenly Domino grabbed the dog and said "Zoe! We are going to the land of blue skies and endless smiles! And I'm not talking about heaven!"
Domino and Rascal were playing some sort of Crabby Patty restaurant game of their own design. Domino started making a TV commercial voice over for their restaurant. I had been tuning out most of what they were saying, but I perked up when I heard "Must be 100 years or older to order! Side effects include headaches, nausea, dizziness and death. But - you're 100 years old, so that's to be expected soon anyway..."
Thursday, July 7, 2011
Tuesday, June 14, 2011
Lazy Days of Summer
I don't know how it happened, but summer is upon me. Late May and early June brought rainstorms and it totally threw off my mental preparations for summer vacation. Normally the weather starts to get nice and I start to wrap my brain around the idea that "summer is coming - school's ending soon!" but this year summer vacation really snuck up on me. Just a week or so ago I was quietly sitting on the couch while the boys were at school, looking out the window, and thinking to myself "How can it possibly be summer vacation in a week when it looks like November outside??"
It's interesting for me to think back to this time last year, when I was in a deep funk about our school closing and full of uncertainty of where we'd end up. All the angry and persistent emails I wrote all summer long to the school district office, insisting they transfer us to a decent school, each day hoping for a phone call or email with good news. Now, the school year has passed and though at times it was filled with angst and frustration, we're all none the worse for wear in our new school.
It's interesting for me to think back to this time last year, when I was in a deep funk about our school closing and full of uncertainty of where we'd end up. All the angry and persistent emails I wrote all summer long to the school district office, insisting they transfer us to a decent school, each day hoping for a phone call or email with good news. Now, the school year has passed and though at times it was filled with angst and frustration, we're all none the worse for wear in our new school.
Domino started his GATE camp this morning. He was very anxious in the car on the way there but as soon as he saw a friend from his class at school he lit right up. They'll be creating a magazine and each child will be writing an article about something that happened a specific year - the year from a penny they each pulled out of a jar. Domino got 1980. And you know what that means he gets to write about?! (I didn't either...) The eruption of Mount St. Helens! It's like a gift from the penny jar gods for my little volcano junkie.
The challenge I face right now is figuring out how to entertain us all on a dime (or a nickel!) this summer. We'll be hitting the neighborhood parks and setting up the water slide in the backyard when the weather cooperates, but I fear far too many hours of Wii video games are in our future. I bought them "educational" Wii and DS games and told them they could play only those games during the week and "non-educational" games on the weekend. How long before I cave on that rule? I give it 3 days. There's only so much nagging I can tolerate and sometimes the Wii is the best babysitter! And I've been known to try and beat them in a round of Mario Kart or two. TRY being the operative word. Rascal is the reigning champion!
Summer vacation also means I need to adjust my routines again to having kids underfoot 24/7. As crazy as my volunteer schedule is at the school during the school year, I still had a few precious hours here and there to go grocery shopping solo, squeeze out a few billable hours of work in silence, do a few loads of laundry without forgetting a load in either the washer or dryer or both, and if I was really lucky catch up on my DVR'd episodes of Glee. Now? All of the above must be done while mediating fights, answering questions, getting boxes off of high shelves, stepping over Hot Wheels and on Legos, insisting they "stop shouting!", "be nice!", "apologize right now!" "are you kidding me??" and the popular "get off the dog and leave her alone!" all while doling out monitored snacks and drinks. Each day I tune out portions of the insanity, but there's a constant noise and distraction level when the boys are home that makes my brain buzz.
Clearly, summer vacation is also taking its toll on the dog. I can't tell if our "indoor dog" is glad to finally see the sun after a strangely cold and rainy late May-early June - or if she's tired of the boys yelling at the TV while playing video games while laying on top of her, poking her in the eyes and elbowing her in the ribcage - and she just needed a quiet nap in the backyard sunshine. Alone.
Either way, I can totally relate...
Wednesday, March 23, 2011
Nine
Domino celebrated his 9th birthday this weekend. While I was running around like a lunatic trying to get ready for the party, I had a moment of pause while washing dishes, and I remembered events from the day he was born.
I remembered calling the on-call OBGYN and he groggily said "If you're not feeling contractions, stay home until you do." I think he just wanted to go back to sleep. We stayed home and not much happened through the night. Tonester slept and I kept waiting for something. We drove down to the hospital around 10:00 AM, hoping they'd check us in and we'd have a baby soon. They looked me over, strapped the belly monitor on, then sent us on our way declaring "When you're really feeling the contractions, give us a call and come back". I remembered feeling disappointed and pissed.
I remembered how we hung out in Marin near the hospital, not wanting to drive all the way back home to Napa County just to turn back around "when I felt the contractions". We ate lunch at Chili's. We dropped in to my OBGYN's office, hoping he'd give us the go ahead to stay at the hospital. "Go relax at home, call when you feel the contractions. If you don't call by tomorrow morning, we'll schedule you for induction." So we headed home.
I remembered we were home about an hour before I started to feel the contractions. "How exciting! I'm feeling contractions! Isn't this exciting?!" I thought. Tonester announced he wanted to take a shower before we went back to the hospital. While he was in the shower, I felt a CONTRACTION. It was so painful, I jumped up off the couch and ran around my living room - like I could run away from the pain?? The next CONTRACTION had me on all fours on the living room floor. And Tonester was still taking his sweet ass time in the shower...
I remembered eventually making it to the hospital and a lot of deep breathing on the car ride there. I remembered telling Tonester that when the nurse checked me out, if she said I was at anything less than 2 centimeters, I just might kill her. (I'm one of those women in labor) Thank goodness for the nurse's sake, I was at a whopping 3 centimeters. She disappeared to get me "something to take the edge off". She was gone for an eternity. I think she was still pissed at me for threatening her life. I remembered pleading with Tonester to go find her, grabbing on to his wrist and begging, I might have even suggested if he really loved me he would steal some drugs for me from somewhere. He didn't and I told him he was next on my hit list. Eventually the nurse returned and I'm sure she was just as happy to shove that needle of meds in me to shut me up as I was to receive it. Before the meds even kicked in, I called dibs on the next anesthesiologist for an epidural.
I remembered the epidural wasn't the pain free birthing method I expected.
I remembered watching TV for hours "while my labor progressed" while Tonester napped.
I remembered being told to push.
I remembered being told to stop pushing so my OB could get there. I remembered thinking they were nuts.
I remembered there was a blinding burning pain.
I remembered being told to reach down and help pull my baby out of my body. I also remembered saying out loud "Oh my god! This is so alien!". My maternal instincts had clearly not kicked in yet.
I remembered being told it was a boy, and being disappointed for about .32 seconds, and then being thrilled.
I remembered the nurse putting him on my chest and I was a more than a little grossed out because he was covered in blood and goop. Again, maternal instincts not yet functioning...
I remembered being very happy and looking at Tonester like "oh my god - we did it!" I remembered how overjoyed he looked. I remembered how much I loved him at that moment (and still do).
I remembered the room way off in the middle of nowhere we got sent to for my stay because the hospital was under remodeling construction. The nurses admitted they often forgot I was down in that wing by myself. I remembered the crazy heater in the room that nobody knew how to work. There was a thermostat we had turned down to Arctic temperature because there was a furnace against the wall we had zero control over that was set to Tropical temperature that was blowing hot air and rattling 24/7. I remembered the funky pink naugahyde fold out chair, with exposed springs, that Tonester was expected to sleep on. It was wedged firmly up against the Tropical furnace. I remembered giving him a free pass to go home and sleep instead of staying at the hospital with us. I remembered how he got a migraine and threw up all over our car on his way back the next morning and had to turn back around and go home to recover, shower and detail the car.
I remembered how I couldn't easily lift the baby in and out of the bedside bassinet on my own because of my stitches. I didn't want to bother the nurses so that first night I slept with him swaddled in between my curled up legs like a baby bird in a nest. I remembered that I didn't sleep much that night. I remembered that would be the first of a year full of sleepless nights.
I remembered how all our family and friends came to meet our beautiful son. New grandmas, aunts, uncles, cousins and great family friends.
I remembered how someone commented he smelled like maple syrup. I don't recall if I admitted at the time it was because I had dripped maple syrup on his head from the hospital pancake breakfast I ate while I tried to simultaneously breastfeed him and manage the remote control of the TV. Just a few hours old and I was already trying to multi-task...
I remembered dressing him in his "coming home" outfit we had picked out months before and shoving his little body into the carseat for the car ride home. I thought we were injuring him trying to push and pull his little arms through the seatbelt straps. I remembered Tonester driving 10 miles under the speed limit the entire way home as I sat in the backseat with our son. I remembered being OK with that.
I remembered arriving at home, plopping down on the couch and thinking "Wow. Now what happens?"
All those memories flooded my mind in waves while standing there washing the dishes. It's amazing that an event that took place 9 years ago is as vivid and crystal clear in my brain today as the day it happened. Especially since my Mommy brain is so tired after 9 years that I can't even remember what I had for breakfast this morning. I do know that it wasn't pancakes.
Domino, I love you. You've filled the last 9 years with happiness, laughter and crazy trivia. You've kept me on my toes, you're worn me out, and you've made my heart soar. I couldn't love you any more or be any prouder of you than I am. Every day.
Oh yeah, and I'm sorry about the maple syrup on your head...
xoxo,
Mom
*****
I remembered the feeling of realization that my water broke. It was about 1:30 AM and I thought I was wetting the bed and couldn't stop. A scary feeling either way.I remembered calling the on-call OBGYN and he groggily said "If you're not feeling contractions, stay home until you do." I think he just wanted to go back to sleep. We stayed home and not much happened through the night. Tonester slept and I kept waiting for something. We drove down to the hospital around 10:00 AM, hoping they'd check us in and we'd have a baby soon. They looked me over, strapped the belly monitor on, then sent us on our way declaring "When you're really feeling the contractions, give us a call and come back". I remembered feeling disappointed and pissed.
I remembered how we hung out in Marin near the hospital, not wanting to drive all the way back home to Napa County just to turn back around "when I felt the contractions". We ate lunch at Chili's. We dropped in to my OBGYN's office, hoping he'd give us the go ahead to stay at the hospital. "Go relax at home, call when you feel the contractions. If you don't call by tomorrow morning, we'll schedule you for induction." So we headed home.
I remembered we were home about an hour before I started to feel the contractions. "How exciting! I'm feeling contractions! Isn't this exciting?!" I thought. Tonester announced he wanted to take a shower before we went back to the hospital. While he was in the shower, I felt a CONTRACTION. It was so painful, I jumped up off the couch and ran around my living room - like I could run away from the pain?? The next CONTRACTION had me on all fours on the living room floor. And Tonester was still taking his sweet ass time in the shower...
I remembered eventually making it to the hospital and a lot of deep breathing on the car ride there. I remembered telling Tonester that when the nurse checked me out, if she said I was at anything less than 2 centimeters, I just might kill her. (I'm one of those women in labor) Thank goodness for the nurse's sake, I was at a whopping 3 centimeters. She disappeared to get me "something to take the edge off". She was gone for an eternity. I think she was still pissed at me for threatening her life. I remembered pleading with Tonester to go find her, grabbing on to his wrist and begging, I might have even suggested if he really loved me he would steal some drugs for me from somewhere. He didn't and I told him he was next on my hit list. Eventually the nurse returned and I'm sure she was just as happy to shove that needle of meds in me to shut me up as I was to receive it. Before the meds even kicked in, I called dibs on the next anesthesiologist for an epidural.
I remembered the epidural wasn't the pain free birthing method I expected.
I remembered watching TV for hours "while my labor progressed" while Tonester napped.
I remembered being told to push.
I remembered being told to stop pushing so my OB could get there. I remembered thinking they were nuts.
I remembered there was a blinding burning pain.
I remembered being told to reach down and help pull my baby out of my body. I also remembered saying out loud "Oh my god! This is so alien!". My maternal instincts had clearly not kicked in yet.
I remembered being told it was a boy, and being disappointed for about .32 seconds, and then being thrilled.
I remembered the nurse putting him on my chest and I was a more than a little grossed out because he was covered in blood and goop. Again, maternal instincts not yet functioning...
I remembered being very happy and looking at Tonester like "oh my god - we did it!" I remembered how overjoyed he looked. I remembered how much I loved him at that moment (and still do).
I remembered the room way off in the middle of nowhere we got sent to for my stay because the hospital was under remodeling construction. The nurses admitted they often forgot I was down in that wing by myself. I remembered the crazy heater in the room that nobody knew how to work. There was a thermostat we had turned down to Arctic temperature because there was a furnace against the wall we had zero control over that was set to Tropical temperature that was blowing hot air and rattling 24/7. I remembered the funky pink naugahyde fold out chair, with exposed springs, that Tonester was expected to sleep on. It was wedged firmly up against the Tropical furnace. I remembered giving him a free pass to go home and sleep instead of staying at the hospital with us. I remembered how he got a migraine and threw up all over our car on his way back the next morning and had to turn back around and go home to recover, shower and detail the car.
I remembered how I couldn't easily lift the baby in and out of the bedside bassinet on my own because of my stitches. I didn't want to bother the nurses so that first night I slept with him swaddled in between my curled up legs like a baby bird in a nest. I remembered that I didn't sleep much that night. I remembered that would be the first of a year full of sleepless nights.
I remembered how all our family and friends came to meet our beautiful son. New grandmas, aunts, uncles, cousins and great family friends.
I remembered how someone commented he smelled like maple syrup. I don't recall if I admitted at the time it was because I had dripped maple syrup on his head from the hospital pancake breakfast I ate while I tried to simultaneously breastfeed him and manage the remote control of the TV. Just a few hours old and I was already trying to multi-task...
I remembered dressing him in his "coming home" outfit we had picked out months before and shoving his little body into the carseat for the car ride home. I thought we were injuring him trying to push and pull his little arms through the seatbelt straps. I remembered Tonester driving 10 miles under the speed limit the entire way home as I sat in the backseat with our son. I remembered being OK with that.
I remembered arriving at home, plopping down on the couch and thinking "Wow. Now what happens?"
*****
All those memories flooded my mind in waves while standing there washing the dishes. It's amazing that an event that took place 9 years ago is as vivid and crystal clear in my brain today as the day it happened. Especially since my Mommy brain is so tired after 9 years that I can't even remember what I had for breakfast this morning. I do know that it wasn't pancakes.
*****
Oh yeah, and I'm sorry about the maple syrup on your head...
xoxo,
Mom
Wednesday, March 16, 2011
Wordless Wednesday (with a few words...)
Tonester and I surprised Domino with an early birthday gift - a mini bedroom makeover. We have a busy official birthday weekend planned and Mallory will be staying with us in Domino's room, so we decided to set the room up a few days early so he would have a chance to be the first to enjoy it.
His favorite new thing in the room? The new desk and chair. He immediately announced he wanted to do his homework right away to test it out. And here he is still enjoying it 2 hours later...
Man I love that kid.
Sunday, February 27, 2011
This Was Not The Results I Was Expecting
Not too long ago, I gave Rascal one of those purple plaque tablets. You know the ones - you chew on them and they turn the plaque in your mouth purple so you know where your tooth brushing needs improvement. After a few moments of chewing there was the big spit and reveal. Rascal's mouth was PURPLE. With globs of purple saliva hanging out, leaning over the sink drooling purple drool, his teeth clenched together and his lips pulled back in a strained smile Rascal simply stated (as clearly as anyone can with a mouth full of purple spit) "This.IsNot.TheResults.IWasExpecting." I can't remember the last time I laughed that hard.
Also not the results I was expecting? Our homemade Valentines. They looked great but were a huge mistake. Here's why...
One of the things that I hate about our new school is the total lack of communication tools shared with parents. I am used to schools with class rosters with phone numbers and emails, and for whatever reason, our new school feels it's a violation of people's privacy to distribute any information about families. It's ridiculous. There are a couple of kids in both Domino and Rascal's classes that they'd like to have playdates with - but those kids are "daycare" kids. The parents barely stop their cars in the loading zone outside the school in the morning for drop off, and the kids are shuffled to the Boys & Girls Club after school until the parents come get them after work. It makes it impossible to communicate with anyone that you'd like to have a playdate with their kid.
I thought I had outsmarted the system. I had the boys put our phone number on the Valentines we made. The kids would bring them home, the parents would see them and think "Hey, what a cool Valentine! Would you like to have a playdate with that boy? You would? Great! Let's call him right now!" Except that's not how it went down...
A couple of days after Valentines, the phone rang with a young voice asking for Domino. "Success!" I thought to myself, giving myself a pat on the back for my brilliance. Finally, there's a glimmer of hope to make friends outside of school. We've waited for so long. Why didn't we give out our number sooner?!
I asked for the boy's name, and he said Sammy. I passed the phone over to Domino but was very confused. There's no Sammy in his class. Who is this kid on the phone for my son?
Domino talked to him for a bit and I grew more and more concerned. The conversation was pleasant enough - but I quickly realized that Domino had NO IDEA who the kid was on the other end of the phone. This was NOT going the way I planned. At that point I shut down "operation make a new friend". What the heck just happened??
I interrogated Domino. Who is this kid? How did he get our number?? Who did you give your Valentines to??? All of Domino's answers were to be expected "I don't know. I have no idea. Just to the kids in my class."
And then the phone started ringing. I answered and got no response so I hung up. A few minutes later, same thing. Over the course of the next 2 hours I fielded about 20 similar phone calls. I even looked into getting Caller ID just so I could call this little sh*t back and tell his parents off. Who in the world lets their kid use the phone unsupervised?!
Cut to the next day, repeat.
And again the following day.
And again the day after that.
After a bit of detective work, I figured out who the boy was and spoke to the school guidance counselor about the problem. Thankfully, we've had phone silence ever since.
Tonester is furious with me and thinks it was the stupidest idea in the world to give out our number to everyone. I'm flabbergasted that this has exploded so negatively. How could such a simple thing of trying to make friends with classmates go so horribly wrong??
I still have no clue how this boy got our phone number. My guess is he goes to the Boys & Girls Club with others in Domino's class and when kids were going through their Valentine loot, he probably swiped the Valentine and the rest is history. It is a pretty cool looking Valentine....
I feel like I'm standing in front of the mirror with a mouth full of purple spit. This.IsNot.TheResults.IWasExpecting.
Also not the results I was expecting? Our homemade Valentines. They looked great but were a huge mistake. Here's why...
One of the things that I hate about our new school is the total lack of communication tools shared with parents. I am used to schools with class rosters with phone numbers and emails, and for whatever reason, our new school feels it's a violation of people's privacy to distribute any information about families. It's ridiculous. There are a couple of kids in both Domino and Rascal's classes that they'd like to have playdates with - but those kids are "daycare" kids. The parents barely stop their cars in the loading zone outside the school in the morning for drop off, and the kids are shuffled to the Boys & Girls Club after school until the parents come get them after work. It makes it impossible to communicate with anyone that you'd like to have a playdate with their kid.
I thought I had outsmarted the system. I had the boys put our phone number on the Valentines we made. The kids would bring them home, the parents would see them and think "Hey, what a cool Valentine! Would you like to have a playdate with that boy? You would? Great! Let's call him right now!" Except that's not how it went down...
A couple of days after Valentines, the phone rang with a young voice asking for Domino. "Success!" I thought to myself, giving myself a pat on the back for my brilliance. Finally, there's a glimmer of hope to make friends outside of school. We've waited for so long. Why didn't we give out our number sooner?!
I asked for the boy's name, and he said Sammy. I passed the phone over to Domino but was very confused. There's no Sammy in his class. Who is this kid on the phone for my son?
Domino talked to him for a bit and I grew more and more concerned. The conversation was pleasant enough - but I quickly realized that Domino had NO IDEA who the kid was on the other end of the phone. This was NOT going the way I planned. At that point I shut down "operation make a new friend". What the heck just happened??
I interrogated Domino. Who is this kid? How did he get our number?? Who did you give your Valentines to??? All of Domino's answers were to be expected "I don't know. I have no idea. Just to the kids in my class."
And then the phone started ringing. I answered and got no response so I hung up. A few minutes later, same thing. Over the course of the next 2 hours I fielded about 20 similar phone calls. I even looked into getting Caller ID just so I could call this little sh*t back and tell his parents off. Who in the world lets their kid use the phone unsupervised?!
Cut to the next day, repeat.
And again the following day.
And again the day after that.
After a bit of detective work, I figured out who the boy was and spoke to the school guidance counselor about the problem. Thankfully, we've had phone silence ever since.
Tonester is furious with me and thinks it was the stupidest idea in the world to give out our number to everyone. I'm flabbergasted that this has exploded so negatively. How could such a simple thing of trying to make friends with classmates go so horribly wrong??
I still have no clue how this boy got our phone number. My guess is he goes to the Boys & Girls Club with others in Domino's class and when kids were going through their Valentine loot, he probably swiped the Valentine and the rest is history. It is a pretty cool looking Valentine....
I feel like I'm standing in front of the mirror with a mouth full of purple spit. This.IsNot.TheResults.IWasExpecting.
Saturday, February 5, 2011
Eight Versions of Crazy
I just read a piece at Alpha Mom about kids and homework. Go ahead and read it. I'll wait....
I sit somewhere in the middle on this topic.
I review homework each night. I help and walk through the problems if necessary (and lately I've been having to refer to Google to help Domino with his 3rd grade math homework) and I make sure they understand what they're working on. Teachers used to be able to give their students this one-on-one attention, but current classroom sizes make that nearly impossible. I am the only one-on-one educational time my kids will likely get during the day and I better make the most of it.
I get irritated when I see kids come in to school with over the top projects -- like the kindergarten leprechaun trap that looks like something that would appear in Lord of the Rings. Or the massive paper mache dinosaur shaped mailbox supposedly made by a 6 year old. Or the Egg Drop container that has clearly not been built by a 5 year old, but has been designed and built by someone with a degree from MIT. Or when the child wins the award for the new jog-a-thon slogan and she announces "My dad is the best at rhyming!". It is obvious the child had zero involvement in the project with the exception of bringing home the assignment instructions.
BUT...
The view isn't quite so clear from my high horse.
I have been guilty on more than one occasion of taking over a project or two. For example, you should see Domino's 100 day of school project from his kindergarten year...
Kids needed to bring in 100 of something. One came with 100 Cheerios in a baggie, another came with 100 stickers on a piece of paper, and another came with 100 Legos in a box. What did Domino bring? At the time, Domino was a huge NASCAR fan so he wanted to bring 100 of his Hot Wheels cars. I convinced him that he would lose those, so I painstakingly researched photos of NASCAR cars, searching out photos of each car with their numbers 1-100 on the side, and printed out each car to exact dimensions. "We" got a huge roll of butcher paper and Domino glue-sticked the cars in numerical order - well, at least up until about #34 when he got tired of the project and me nitpicking where he was placing each car on the page - and the end result was a 50 foot roll of paper race track with cars glued in numerical order. A very cool looking 100 day project, but I was guilty of a hostile homework takeover. Lesson (sorta) learned.
This week is Valentine's. Both boys need to bring in Valentines for all of their classmates.
I dutifully went to Target and picked out FOUR boxes of Valentines, 2 for each boy, selected each box based on the boy's likes as well as the kids in their classroom. I must have spent a good 20 minutes in the Valentine section, mulling the merits of shiny foil Transformers style versus Clone Wars with pencils, Phineas and Ferb with tattoos versus an unknown brand with silly bandz. Valentines come in packs of 24 these days and since the manufacturers haven't gotten the memo about the increased class sizes of 28+, an additional box was necessary for each boy. I showed them the Valentines I spent so much time picking out and was met with a tepid response at best. It wasn't the "THAT'S AWESOME MOM!" I was hoping for...
... so I became "that mom".
"I can whip up some quick Valentines off the internet", I thought. "I can get some really cool graphics from one of their favorite video games. It can't be hard to come up with some catchy Valentine's phrases. They'll love what I come up with! They'll be the cool kids with the cool Valentines!"
Five hours later and about $50 worth of printer ink, I now have this to show for my Saturday afternoon.
I made EIGHT different styles because I'm just that crazy.
Tomorrow I will battle with the boys to scissor and glue stick, fold card stock, and address 30 Valentines each.
I'm sure if they knew the workload that lies ahead of them with these new homemade Valentines they would have responded more favorably to the Target ones. Maybe that's the lesson they're supposed to learn.
I sit somewhere in the middle on this topic.
I review homework each night. I help and walk through the problems if necessary (and lately I've been having to refer to Google to help Domino with his 3rd grade math homework) and I make sure they understand what they're working on. Teachers used to be able to give their students this one-on-one attention, but current classroom sizes make that nearly impossible. I am the only one-on-one educational time my kids will likely get during the day and I better make the most of it.
I get irritated when I see kids come in to school with over the top projects -- like the kindergarten leprechaun trap that looks like something that would appear in Lord of the Rings. Or the massive paper mache dinosaur shaped mailbox supposedly made by a 6 year old. Or the Egg Drop container that has clearly not been built by a 5 year old, but has been designed and built by someone with a degree from MIT. Or when the child wins the award for the new jog-a-thon slogan and she announces "My dad is the best at rhyming!". It is obvious the child had zero involvement in the project with the exception of bringing home the assignment instructions.
BUT...
The view isn't quite so clear from my high horse.
I have been guilty on more than one occasion of taking over a project or two. For example, you should see Domino's 100 day of school project from his kindergarten year...
Kids needed to bring in 100 of something. One came with 100 Cheerios in a baggie, another came with 100 stickers on a piece of paper, and another came with 100 Legos in a box. What did Domino bring? At the time, Domino was a huge NASCAR fan so he wanted to bring 100 of his Hot Wheels cars. I convinced him that he would lose those, so I painstakingly researched photos of NASCAR cars, searching out photos of each car with their numbers 1-100 on the side, and printed out each car to exact dimensions. "We" got a huge roll of butcher paper and Domino glue-sticked the cars in numerical order - well, at least up until about #34 when he got tired of the project and me nitpicking where he was placing each car on the page - and the end result was a 50 foot roll of paper race track with cars glued in numerical order. A very cool looking 100 day project, but I was guilty of a hostile homework takeover. Lesson (sorta) learned.
This week is Valentine's. Both boys need to bring in Valentines for all of their classmates.
I dutifully went to Target and picked out FOUR boxes of Valentines, 2 for each boy, selected each box based on the boy's likes as well as the kids in their classroom. I must have spent a good 20 minutes in the Valentine section, mulling the merits of shiny foil Transformers style versus Clone Wars with pencils, Phineas and Ferb with tattoos versus an unknown brand with silly bandz. Valentines come in packs of 24 these days and since the manufacturers haven't gotten the memo about the increased class sizes of 28+, an additional box was necessary for each boy. I showed them the Valentines I spent so much time picking out and was met with a tepid response at best. It wasn't the "THAT'S AWESOME MOM!" I was hoping for...
... so I became "that mom".
"I can whip up some quick Valentines off the internet", I thought. "I can get some really cool graphics from one of their favorite video games. It can't be hard to come up with some catchy Valentine's phrases. They'll love what I come up with! They'll be the cool kids with the cool Valentines!"
Five hours later and about $50 worth of printer ink, I now have this to show for my Saturday afternoon.
I made EIGHT different styles because I'm just that crazy.
Tomorrow I will battle with the boys to scissor and glue stick, fold card stock, and address 30 Valentines each.
I'm sure if they knew the workload that lies ahead of them with these new homemade Valentines they would have responded more favorably to the Target ones. Maybe that's the lesson they're supposed to learn.
Wednesday, February 2, 2011
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