Monday, August 18, 2014
Large Fry starts fourth grade there in exactly a week, and she was very scared about having a new school. Fortunately for all of us, one of the ladies in our church, Ms. Vee, teaches at the SMS, and had agreed to give us an abbreviated tour ahead of time. Despite the unscheduled waxing of the lobby floors today, we were still able to get in and look around.
Ms. Vee led us straight to the Red hall, which is where Large's classrooms will be. Large will even get a locker this year. She'll switch between two classrooms, which are right next door to each other.
The school building itself is fairly new. The gymnasium is full-sized and HUGE. Ms. Vee showed us where the art room and computer lab were, as well as the playground area. She explained that, for the first couple of days, all the fourth graders are funneled into the cafeteria as they arrive, and the teachers will lead them back to their classrooms. The end-of-the-day procedures will remain the same all year: walkers and parent pick-up students are released first, then the first group of bus students, and then the last group of bus students. Any students riding buses will go to either the cafeteria or the gym, and find their bus number, and then they're dismissed by buses (this way nobody misses the bus). Large will be riding the bus this year for the first time since first grade.
Large seemed much more at ease after our tour, even though we couldn't see all of the school because of the floor maintenance.
I am feeling better about her new school, but still feeling weird about all this. I don't know that I'm ready for her to be in fourth grade. Hubby laughed at me when we first arrived, because I looked so glum and bereft as I got out of the van.
I'm not so sure I'm ready for the twins to be in second grade, either. They are in different classes this year...another first. Medium has Mrs. Greek, and Small has Large's second-grade teacher.
Heaven help me. They keep growing up.
Sunday, August 10, 2014
I moseyed downstairs in search of something to eat that actually sounded good. I was finally sitting down to eat, and had the kids doing the chores they were supposed to do yesterday, when Large Fry popped into the room.
Wearing, I should point out, a pink shirt with little brown terriers scattered all over it, heavy cotton winter stockings, and a pink tutu with large, shiny sequins. Oh, and white socks with orange cuffs. She's being a ballerina today.
"Mommy, I found a whisker..." She held up a short, coal-black whisker. Koa's. (She's the only one with all-black whiskers.)
"Then throw it away," I instructed. Really, I thought. Do I need to be consulted for this?
"Oh." Large sounded a big dejected. "I thought we could use it for the eye things."
She left the room as I closed my eyes and tried to avoid a literal facepalm.
Large had wanted to use Koa's shed whisker as a false eyelash.
Wednesday, August 6, 2014
Medium came in to our room in the wee hours of the morning, having had a bad dream and needing the security of sleeping with us. I told her to climb on up, and sleepily noted later that Hubby had wrapped his arm around her as they slept (awww).
This morning, Hubby got a call from the church secretary that the internet was out at the office (most likely due to a power outage during last night's storm). He promised he'd be right in. Medium quickly sprawled all over Hubby's side of the bed. He must have given her a look, because this conversation followed...
Medium: My bed!
Hubby: Your bed?
Medium (triumphantly): MY bed!
Hubby: You're crazy!
Medium: You got that right!
Hubby (chuckling): Put that in your blog and smoke it.
Me (sleepily): Oh, yes.
Tuesday, July 29, 2014
Scene: Den, where I am sitting in front of my laptop, when Small returns from the potty.
Small: Where's Medium Fry?
Me: Getting ready for bed, which is what you need to do.
Small: But I was going to sing another song!
Me: You told me you wanted to sing one song. You sang one song.
Small: I wanted to sing three songs!
Me [firmly]: You said you wanted to sing one song. You sang one song.
Small [lip quivering]: But that's not what I meant!
Me: I can't just know what you meant. I have to go by what you said. You said one song. You sang one song. And now it's after 8:00, so you have to go get ready for bed.
Small teared up and slunk out of the room and went whimpering up the stairs.
It's clear that she especially is suffering from lingering overtiredness after our vacation to Florida last week. I insisted on naps earlier today for the twins, but she's still crabby. I can hear her shouting at her sisters upstairs.
I should have imposed an earlier bedtime.
Wednesday, July 16, 2014
...but I don't. Because I promised I wouldn't.
Hubby is out of town this week, on his annual summer mission trip with the teens. The Fries and I have thus spent the last several days out at my folks', and came home today. (Our kitty-sitters are also on the mission trip.) Sis and BIL and their kids are in the States right now, also staying with my folks, so it's been cousin insanity and 11 people (more than half of them kids) in my parents' home.
With a few nights away from home, no Hubby, not my own bed, and no Mika to come snuggle with me at night, I haven't slept well. The drive home was tiring, even if it was only an hour.
So I made a decision. I was lifting the Amish Summer tech ban for the afternoon. They've gone mostly without tech since Sunday evening anyway. I needed a nap. I fixed everybody lunch, and sent the kids up to the living room to watch TV while I dozed in the den.
When I woke a little while ago, I figured I still had some time before I needed to tell them to get ready to go so that we can go back to the VBS at a church near Gramma and Poppa's tonight (they've gone the last two nights with Roo and A-man). Large and Medium were watching TV. Small was not.
"Where's Small?" I asked.
"She's upstairs," Medium said.
I followed what I thought was the sound of water being turned on hard and rapidly turned off.
The girls' bathroom. Of course. Which they all know they're not supposed to play in.
I peered into the room and saw no one. "Small?" I asked.
"I'm hiding back here."
I walked to the back of the bathroom, and found her tucked between the toilet and the huge cupboards by the sink.
With her electric Dora toothbrush.
And there's the "water" sound.
She was also holding a black marker cap.
And her eyelids were black.
"Where's the marker?" I demanded. She leaned out and pointed over to the counter between the sinks. I took the cap and put it on the marker. "What's on your finger?"
I grabbed her toothbrush and studied it. "Is there lotion on your toothbrush?"
"Yes," she mumbled.
She shrugged her shoulders.
"Well, you've ruined your toothbrush. You know this is not a toy. Why did you put lotion on your toothbrush?"
"No. That's not good enough. You show me what you were doing with the lotion and your toothbrush."
Small held the toothbrush up to her cheeks, as if she was applying makeup.
I frowned. "I'm very disappointed in your choices."
I walked down the hall to my own bathroom, struggling not to giggle. I sent a text to my best friend and called Small to my bathroom.
She saw my phone. "Don't take a picture," she begged.
"I won't." I ripped open an alcohol prep pad and wiped at her eyelid.
"Will we still get to go to bible school tonight?"
I'd said they had to behave. "Yes."
"What if my sisters see what's left on my eyes?"
I finished with the second prep pad on her other eyelid. "Well, that's the price you pay for drawing on your eyelids with marker."
Her lip quivered, and I tipped her chin up so she could see me. "Are you mad?"
"I'm disappointed," I said. "I love you. Please don't draw on yourself with marker, okay?"
She went back downstairs and watched TV from the stairs.
But, oh, a picture would have made this post perfect!
Monday, June 23, 2014
...except maybe his wife.
It's VBS week at our church. (I'll bet you never would have guessed!) Hubby, as youth pastor, is sort of under the auspices of the Children and Youth Commission...and that group is responsible for putting on Vacation Bible School every year.
That means Hubby usually is pretty heavily involved. He helps emcee the start and end every night, and he teaches the 5th grade class. (Handy, that. The 5th graders will be the next ones to graduate up to youth group in the fall when they start 6th grade.)
This year, I sort of got...well...not quite "voluntold." It was more "volunbegged." Given my choices between tech crew and helping teach 5th graders...Auntie J, video tech, at your service. For the hour or so between the end of the Start-up Stampede and the beginning of the Tail End (I kid you not; that's what they're called), I am blessedly left to my own devices.
Namely, working on the crib cover for my one-year-old niece Noodle (previously mentioned here as Na).
However, I had a question for Hubby, so I scooted over to his class, which is up here on the second floor near my digs in the sanctuary balcony.
He introduced me to his class (four girls and one boy), and advised the boy, J, that I was not to be messed with.
"That's right," I said with mock severity. "I'll kiss you."
That is, I should point out, my favorite threat for keeping preteen and junior high boys in line. I just haven't had cause to use it in awhile. Hubby laughed. "It's been a long time since I've heard you say that."
I asked him for a minute of his time, and it was the girls who started timing me! I looked at Zym, who goes to our church and knows me well enough. "I'll kiss you too!"
That stinker kept counting. Must be her father's influence.
I got what I needed, and by then, J had joined in the countdown. There was only one thing to do.
I smooched him on the cheek. Loudly.
I haven't lost my touch. He was on the floor in seconds, trying to wipe it off his cheek, using the carpet.
I grinned and leaned over him. "I promise I got my cootie shot this week."
He was still saying, "Ewwww!" when I left the room.