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The big English teacher dork in me is so super excited for Jade to be in high school (although she still attends junior high, 9th grade IS high school…). I was chomping at the bit to get ahold of her Language Arts syllabus and check out which novels she would be reading this year. She willingly handed it over:
OH, I exclaimed!!! Romeo and Juliet…. Lord of the Flies….Animal Farm….
My heart started beating faster. Ya know, I explained to her, reading this literature is so exciting. It enters you into a “club” of sorts, the club of “well-read” people. You will become more culturally literate, I tell her. I then go on to tell her story after story of how knowing the nuances of Romeo and Juliet and Lord of the Flies (especially the symbolism of that darn CONCH) will enrich and enhance her life for decades to come. That this is only the beginning of a thrilling literary thrillling thrill ride of thrills.
She looks at me.
And says, “I think I need to go put on some deoderant.”
I think I will take that as an endorsement to just how thrilling classic literature is. So thrilling, one needs to wear deoderant.
Yup.
We made our peace a long time ago that Ty prefers to sleep with mommy and daddy.
I think in Ty’s first week of life, we realized that this kid may sleep with us until he goes to college. No joke. College.
It complicates certain issues, surely, but, it also has its perks.
Last night I turned the light out and turned toward my sound asleep little boy who was starting kindergarten the next day. I looked into his slumbering face and marvelled at his perfection, his long lashes, his scraggly hair. I thought about how I was probably NOT going to cry when I dropped him off the next morning at kindergarten — really — but right now in the moonlight I wanted to memorize his face, what he looked like the night before. I cuddled in, I felt my heart swell.
My heart swelled just in time for Ty’s right arm to swing around and punch me smack in the nose.
His eyes then fluttered open and he said, “Oh, sorry mommy, I thought you were Lily.”
Holding Up "K's" For Kindergarden
Recently we went to my hometown of Yakima to visit family and enjoy the blistering dry heat and desert sun. Going from the Seattle area to Yakima requires going across a mountain pass. The condition of “The Pass” is forever a source of discussion in the state of Washington. Is it snowing? Is there construction? Are there avalanches? Is it backed up with traffic? Upon entering The Pass there is very very very little in the way of civilization until Ellensburg (smack dab in the middle of the state) and some people might argue that Ellensburg does not constitute real cililization.
So, on late Sunday afternoon we headed back, hoping that the kids would rest, the baby would sleep and we would make it home in time to order take out and watch some DVR-ed shows. Most people who travel The Pass stop “at the top” to take in the beauty, stretch, and use the state provided bathrooms. As we passed that last rest area before “the top” I realized that I was cutting it a little bit close in terms of that state provided bathroom. But, hey, I have a teacher bladder and I am sure I can make it.
Then we hit traffic.
Bad traffic.
Backed up for miles, bad traffic.
I am sure we’ll be along shortly. We all thought.
So, to pass the time time (no pun intended) and to take my mind of the every-growing need to pee, I pulled out my camera.
Here is Jade’s vote for our Christmas picture 2010. What is clear to me, is that we need a bigger car.
Entertaining the baby.
After a while I noticed that there were children playing on the freeway. I then started to fear for my bladder.
Facebook updates informed us that we were looking at 10 miles of backups and a possible 2 hour delay.
I looked to my right — only to see a sheer rock face. No hope for a behind-the-tree emergency potty break
I looked to my left — only to see tons of oncoming traffic. This is the one are of The Pass that does not have a center median. No relief there.
I spotted possible salvation parked behind us.
This is one of those times I don’t think I am going to be able to talk Dave into helping out. There is no way he is going to walk up to that camper, knock ont he door, and ask if his wife can use their bathroom. Besides, it might have a serial killer inside, or really mean outdoorsmen.
Luckily, 90 minutes after we stopped, the lane next to us starting moving. The camper pulled in next to us, and then pulled ahead, and as I saw my last hope drive off I shouted, “FOLLOW THAT POTTY!” And we did.
I made it just in time.
Even teacher-bladders have their limit.
Saturday at lunch Ty informed the family that he has an invisible tail.
Ya wanna see?
Well, I will try to see it. It is invisible after all.
He wags his bum at me and says, see it?
Uh, well….
It has very small feathers on it that you need a microscope to see.
It does?
Mommy? When something is invisible can you still touch it and feel it?
I think so. But I don’t really know for sure.
Well, then my tail is also intangible.
Of course it is.
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